Cut & Run (60 page)

We were buried.” He leaned back against the wall. “I called in a couple times.

They wouldn’t tell me anything about you,” he growled.

Ty glanced at Zane sideways, really looking at him for the first time.

“You’ve been shot again, haven’t you?” he asked in resignation.

Zane didn’t try to lie. He just let his eyes drop. Ty nodded and looked away, the swirling in his stomach nearly unbearable.

“Did you get your head on straight?” Zane asked. The elevator stopped and the doors opened.

Ty stood there, looking out into the parking deck with a sort of distance to his expression that was fairly common lately. “No,” he answered softly.

Zane swallowed, hurting. He reached out and blocked the door open and waved Ty through.

366 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

Ty walked past him with his head down again, hands in his pockets as he headed for his car. Suddenly, he stopped and looked up, inhaling deeply.

“You did have a choice,” he murmured.

Zane halted in place. He’d considered the other option. Once.

Fleetingly. “No,” he said clearly. “I didn’t want to give up on seeing you again.”

Ty’s eyes wandered along the cement ceiling of the parking structure, his back still turned as he considered Zane’s answer. “But it wasn’t worth it to leave,” he finally murmured, as if talking to himself.

Swallowing on the pain, Zane closed his eyes for a long moment.

When he spoke, it was a rasp. “We can still cut and run.” His shoulders tightened. “But now we don’t have to.”

Ty stood there for another moment before turning slowly to look back at Zane. He looked at the leather and the fresh scars, letting his eyes carry over them pointedly. “You didn’t listen to a damn thing I told you,” he said softly. “Did you?”

Zane flinched, and true regret was clear on his face. “No,” he said miserably. “Not for awhile. I wasn’t….” He huffed. “I wasn’t … there,” he said weakly, waving at his head.

“You shouldn’t have to be
there
to be careful,” Ty growled in response. “It’s common fucking sense, Garrett!” he shouted suddenly, his voice echoing through the structure.

Nervously licking his upper lip, Zane winced and straightened his shoulders. “What do you want me to say, Ty?” he asked. “It won’t change it.”

“I want you to say you’re sorry,” Ty demanded stubbornly. “And I want you to tell me how pissed you are at me for leaving when I did!”

“I was so angry I saw red for weeks,” Zane admitted. “Even though I knew there wasn’t a goddamn thing you could do about it,” he went on, voice getting louder as he allowed the emotion to break through. “I was furious with the Bureau for chucking me back into hell, and I was pissed with myself for letting them. For a while, the best thing I could come up with was hoping an injury would land me back in the fucking hospital,” he growled, incensed, his eyes flashing. “I would have done anything.
Anything
to get back to you. I can’t say I’m sorry for that.”

Ty exhaled slowly, calming. “Better,” he said softly with a nod.

Shaking, Zane took a couple steps toward Ty, set a hand on his chest, Cut & Run | 367

and pushed him hard against the concrete pillar behind him. “That’s all you have to say?” he demanded, the fury still clear.

Ty moved suddenly, shoving Zane away before grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him forcefully, right there in the parking garage.

Zane reeled back a couple steps as Ty’s weight hit him. He got his balance and grabbed both of Ty’s upper arms, taking those steps forward again and pinning Ty against the wall. It was a gloriously violent kiss that he poured all his anguish and anger into.

Ty gripped him mindlessly, not even concerned about the possibility of the security cameras catching them as they took out the past five months of frustration on each other. Finally, he shoved at Zane roughly, gasping for breath. When pushed, Zane turned and stalked a few steps away. He stood there, trying to get his breath, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m not sorry,” he muttered as he dragged a hand through his short hair.

Ty rested his head back against the concrete wall and closed his eyes.

“I am,” he whispered.

Zane’s emotions played openly across his face. He wasn’t even trying to hide them. He was hurt, he was confused, and he was scared. “What for?”

he asked, voice aching. He couldn’t bring himself to move again, to rejoin Ty four strides away.

“Leaving,” Ty answered as he opened his eyes again.

The frustration and anger faded as Zane took a good long look at him.

He looked like hell. He was tan enough that it spoke of time in some exotic location, but the arduous past five months fairly clung to him. His eyes were flat and tired, his face was scruffy, and even though he’d slept, he still looked haggard. Three of the fingers on his right hand were badly broken and bandaged. The smoke of the expensive cigars he smoked was strong enough for Zane to smell without trying.

Zane considered barking at him for not taking care of himself, but it just wasn’t in him. After so long apart, he didn’t want to hurt anymore.

Slowly his feet moved, taking him closer to Ty until he stood less than an arm’s length away. Zane couldn’t stifle the sigh, and he resisted the urge to reach out and touch. “I thought you were supposed to get
better
on convalescent leave,” he murmured.

“Maybe I had some unfinished business to tend to first,” Ty responded wryly, his voice low and hoarse.

368 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

“Christ,” Zane muttered. “We’re both such a fucking mess.”

“I worried about you,” Ty admitted.

Zane sighed and lowered his head, looking up at Ty from under lowered brows. The proximity alone was easing his pain as much as anything.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Why the hell didn’t you come home?” Ty asked, letting the anguish leak through.

“The same reason you walked away,” Zane whispered.

“ ’Cause you didn’t know anything about black-market orchids?” Ty asked weakly.

Zane’s laugh was choked, but it was still a laugh. “Allergies?” he offered, trying to dip his head to meet Ty’s gaze.

Ty lifted his chin and made eye contact. “I still drink,” he blurted.

“And I still smoke illegal Cubans. And I still take barmaids home and fuck them when I start thinking about you too much.”

The slight humor left Zane’s eyes, replaced with a carefully guarded look. He hadn’t touched a drop. He hadn’t touched a pill. He hadn’t touched a cigarette, because that was what Ty had wanted. And he couldn’t bring himself to touch anyone else. It was the only way he had to stay connected to Ty, to convince himself that Ty might still want him when they finally met again. “Is that supposed to scare me away?” he finally asked.

“Needed you to know,” Ty answered quietly.

Zane nodded slowly. “And what do
you
need to know?”

“You still want me around?” Ty asked after a moment of consideration.

“Yeah,” Zane said softly, not yet touching like he wanted to. “Do you still want me?”

“Yeah,” Ty breathed, the word barely audible.

Zane let out a pent-up breath and looked away. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested as he reached for Ty. The sound of one of the elevator doors whooshing shut made Ty jump imperceptibly. Zane jerked his hand back, then he nodded and looked around them; he’d forgotten they were in the goddamn parking garage. “You’re going to have to check out a car or get a cab,” he said apologetically. “I’m on the bike.”

“I drove my truck,” Ty murmured. “I didn’t figure my new partner Cut & Run | 369

would want to drag me home,” he said with a slightly sly smile.

“Damn it. I wanted to get you on the Valkyrie,” Zane muttered.

“Not a chance in hell,” Ty answered instantly. “I got those things out of my system a decade ago.”

Zane rolled his eyes and stepped back. “Shit, Grady. I gave up drinking, drugs,
and
smoking for you. I am not giving up my motorcycle.”

Ty grinned slowly, a hint of the former mischief entering his eyes.

Zane crossed his arms stubbornly, sulking.

“Well, that’s unbecoming,” Ty murmured as he reached out and took Zane’s elbow. “Ride with me,” he suggested with a smirk that faded into a smile. “We can catch up on the ride home.”

“Fine.” Zane gave a put-upon sigh and started to walk alongside him.

“But we’re coming back for the Valkyrie.”

“Whatever you say, Hoss,” Ty muttered agreeably.

Zane’s smile was big and silly. “So. Baltimore, huh? Think I can find any action there?” he asked as Ty led him to an old green and tan Ford Bronco.

“Maybe,” Ty answered seriously. “When the Ravens lose you can find any number of drunken people wandering the streets, looking for mindless physical comfort. And the two times the O’s won last year were pretty exciting.”

“Are you a Ravens fan?” Zane asked as he opened the passenger side door. He paused as he looked at the passenger seat and the door that he held onto, stilled by a spark of irrational fear that caught him every time. It was why he rode the bike almost exclusively now. Logic be damned, the motorcycle felt safer than a car. “I mean, are you a … a f-football fan?” he forced out, unconsciously rubbing at his right arm as he made himself get in the truck.

Ty glanced over as he heard the stutter. “The Ravens were named for the story by Poe, you know,” he said as he watched Zane. They both had their scars, inside and outside. He could see that now.

Zane met his eyes and slowly relaxed. “No,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know that.”

“I bet there’s a lot you don’t know,” Ty told him with a small, teasing smile.

370 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

The corners of Zane’s mouth turned up. “Yeah. There is,” he agreed.

Once they were out on the road, Ty reached over and slid his fingers through Zane’s tentatively. His thumb rubbed absently over the wedding ring Zane still wore, then he squeezed his hand and kept his eyes on the busy road, not mentioning the ring or all the complications their new partnership might entail. Ty took his eyes off the road long enough to look over at Zane and smile crookedly. “It should be easier to sleep tonight,” he said softly instead.

“Yeah. It will.”

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372 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux