Cut & Run (52 page)

The sound of the sirens was closer now, and through his closed eyelids Ty could see the changing light and dark that told him the flashing lights were on top of them. There was a sound of squealing tires and the smell of burning rubber. He raised his head and opened his eyes, knowing the impact should have come already. He turned and looked out the cracked window at the yellow blur of the cab as the driver turned at the last minute, spinning out right beside their wrecked Ford on the highway. He turned out of the spin, gunned the engine, and headed off in the other direction. Several squad cars gave chase, flying by the wreck of their vehicle in a blaze of light and sound.

The driver knew he couldn’t finish them off and still get away. He had chosen to fight another day, and he’d left Ty and Zane alive to do it.

When Ty shifted, Zane opened his eyes to blurrily see the cab retreating and police cars stopping around them. He started to shake. Shock.

He was going into shock. His arm was already numb, and the pain was still shooting up into his shoulder and down his back. His side was screaming and he couldn’t feel his leg. “When we get out of this car I am kicking your ass,”

he rasped.

Ty didn’t respond. He was already climbing through the roof and holding up his badge and his empty gun, handle first, calling out the code for an officer down.

ZANE sat in the back of the ambulance with a blanket over his shoulders and lap as the EMT worked him over. He stayed put, cowed by a tiny woman who barked at him when he’d tried to leave without medical treatment. All he’d allowed was an IV of clear fluids, and he’d checked the bags. What she was doing hurt like hell (he’d also insisted on no painkillers after a very few words with her about the past addiction record) so he was focusing hard on what was going on away from the ambulance.

Ty stood talking with some of the cops. Luckily, they’d not given him any trouble, none that Zane saw anyway. The EMT found another broken rib and Zane hissed, jerking away instinctively.

“Doing okay, Special Agent Garrett?” the EMT asked.

“Still here,” he answered hoarsely after pulling away the oxygen Cut & Run | 317

mask. His eyes were still glassy and glazed with pain.

“Feeling light-headed again?” she asked, pausing in her examination.

“Just get it over with, huh?” he said weakly, leaning his head sideways against the wall.

“I told you already, I can’t do anything more for you here. You’re going to have to go to the hospital and—”

“Just do whatever you have to do,” Zane interrupted. “I have to be able to use that arm.” It
would
be his right arm. He swallowed hard. “Set it and do whatever.”

The EMT stared at him silently. When she spoke, her voice was thin.

“You know how much you’re going to hurt?”

Zane turned his chin so he could look at his mangled arm and then at her. “Yeah, I know. Just do it.”

Frowning deeply, she got to her feet and climbed into the ambulance with practiced ease. Zane just closed his eyes. He was going to pass out; he knew it. When he opened his eyes again, he found that Ty had finally managed to break away from the cops who’d been asking him questions and was making his way hastily toward the ambulance.

He glared his way past a man who tried to stop him, and he came up to Zane with a twisting sensation in his gut. He could take pain himself, but he couldn’t take watching other people go through it. Especially not people he cared for.

“Why haven’t they drugged you yet?” he asked Zane in outrage.

Zane pulled the mask away to answer, but the EMT beat him to it.

“He declined pain treatment,” she said, voice clearly disapproving.

“Well, fuck that, give it to him anyway,” Ty demanded with an impressive scowl.

“No,” Zane said sharply. “You pump me full of something strong enough to help, and I’ll be out of commission for two days and then suffering another week of cravings.”

“A local won’t cause drug cravings, moron!” Ty shouted angrily.

Zane merely shook his head stubbornly.

The EMT looked between them, scowling heavily. “Special Agent Garrett, please reconsider,” she asked, voice soft. “The pain from the broken bones is just going to grow worse; you’re already well in shock. And your 318 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

partner is right. I can give you a local for your arm and it has nothing to do with—”

Zane looked up at Ty and shook his head, cutting her off. “Go make arrangements for a car,” he rasped to his partner. “You didn’t listen before.

Listen now. Go and come back.”

“Fuck you,” Ty huffed. “Give him the drugs,” he told the EMT.

“I can’t give him the drugs if he doesn’t consent,” the woman said helplessly.

The corner of Zane’s mouth turned up triumphantly, although his eyes drilled into Ty. But he was still shaking slightly.

“He’s severely injured,” Ty argued calmly, looking at the woman intently. “He’s not mentally capable of making the decision,” he said pointedly.

Her eyes narrowed and she looked from him to Zane and back.

“What? The hell I’m not,” Zane said hoarsely. “What are you trying to do to me?” he demanded of Ty.

“I’m trying to keep you out of the fucking hospital,” Ty snarled.

“Give him the shot,” he told the woman. “You know if he goes catatonic from the pain you’ll just have to do it then,
and
take him to the hospital,
and
shoot me because I’ll have to kill someone.”

“Ty, goddammit, we have things we have to do. I can’t be stoned out of my mind for an hour, much less a day—“

“A local wouldn’t do that!” Ty interrupted in frustration.

“What if that son of a bitch comes back after … what the
hell
?” Zane stood up in a rush and his head snapped around as the EMT stepped back, pulling an empty syringe from the IV feed line.

Ty pointed at her and gave a triumphant little, “Ha!”

“Now, Special Agent Garrett, you’re exhibiting strong symptoms of shock,” she said soothingly, laying her hand over the IV shunt in his arm, making sure he didn’t yank it out. Her eyes shifted from Zane’s badly broken arm again over to Ty. “You need to sit down right now. I’ve given you a sedative and something to help with the pain.”

Zane took two steps right up into Ty’s face. “You can’t do this to a partner and expect there to be any lev … level of tr—trus….” His knees started to give out as he blinked slowly.

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Ty took him by his good arm and eased him toward the stretcher he had refused to use before. “We’ll talk about trust later, Special Agent Garrett,” he cooed as he forced Zane down.

Wobbling as he sat back down, Zane’s eyes glazed. “Ty,” he said pleadingly as he sagged against the stretcher, laying out flat as Ty and the paramedic moved his nearly limp body. “Don’t.”

Ty held him down until he was certain Zane wouldn’t thrash around when released. “I’m sorry,” he murmured as his hands slipped away once Zane’s eyes closed. He looked up at the EMT and sighed dejectedly. “Thank you.”

The woman smiled, but looked nonplussed. “I can’t believe he’s not out cold. We should take him to the hospital.”

“Can’t do the hospital,” Ty told her softly. “Not safe there.”

She nodded as if she understood, then looked between them thoughtfully. “So he’s your partner?” she asked carefully.

Ty nodded as he looked back down at Zane, not even catching that there was more than one meaning to the question. “We’re working a case,” he answered distractedly as he pulled out his badge and showed it to her. The action was completely habitual. “Been a bad one,” he murmured quietly.

The EMT glanced at the badge. “So he’s your partner at work,” she clarified.

Ty looked over at her and blinked stupidly. “What?” he asked in confusion.

The woman smiled a little. “I asked if he’s your partner
at work
.

You’re looking a little wobbly yourself. Why don’t you sit down, Special Agent….”

“Grady,” Ty supplied as he frowned. “Yes, he’s my partner
at work
,”

he echoed, still confused by her interest. “I don’t need to sit down,” he added stubbornly.

“Okay,” she said. “I just thought you might want to stick around. He should be out for about thirty minutes. He’s still going to hurt when he wakes up, though. He told me about why he didn’t want the drugs.” She gave him an even look. “Who are you to him to countermand his decision?”

“I’m his partner,” Ty answered defensively, beginning to bristle a little under the scrutiny. “You knew as well as I did that he wouldn’t be able to take it. Common sense trumps alcoholism every day of the week, Sunshine.

320 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

He’ll thank us later.”

“But you know it’s more than alcoholism, right?” she asked as she instructed another EMT to set Zane’s arm and wrap it up while he was out.

“That’s why you’re so protective,” she continued as she took Ty’s arm and pulled him gently away. “Of your partner.”

Ty was getting annoyed and beginning to suspect that she could tell he hadn’t exactly made it out of the car without injuries either. He could feel the urge to bark at the woman and he stamped it down, just hoping to get away without being doctored. “What’s your point, Princess?” he asked.

The woman’s eyes flashed. “Honestly? I’m trying to decide if you care enough about him to take care of him after this. He’s going to be a mess for a couple days, at least. Broken bones all over, the sedative and his reactions to it. Seemed to me you were worried enough that he might be more than
just
a partner. Maybe a friend?” She stood and straightened, not bothered at all that she was more than a foot shorter than Ty. “Now. Tell me what I want to hear, or I’m shipping him off to Lenox Hill. And unbutton your shirt; I see bruising,” she demanded as she pointed at his neck.

“What do you want to hear?” Ty asked as he pulled the top of his shirt together to hide the bruising from his seat belt, his frustrated voice going slightly higher than it normally did.

“Grady?” a soft voice called from amidst the crowd of police, firemen, and EMTs. Ty turned distractedly to see Henninger making his way precariously through the crowd.

“Hold on,” he said to the man with a dismissive wave of his hand, looking back at the woman.

“Are you going to take care of him?” she asked bluntly. “Or do I need to find someone else?”

“How about a fucking doctor? That’s what he needs, right?” Ty asked in exasperation.

“What the hell happened?” Henninger asked as he jogged up to them.

“Jesus. Is he dead?” he asked as he looked down at Zane.

The woman shook her head, face hardening. “Go take care of your business, Special Agent Grady.” She turned away and joined the other paramedic in tending to Zane’s more severe wounds. They worked on the arm, one holding a preformed brace as the other wrapped his now-set arm into it.

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Ty fought back the urge to reach out and throttle the infuriating woman. He looked down at Zane and his features softened unconsciously as he watched them lift him carefully to wrap his ribs tightly. “How long is he going to hurt?” he asked as Henninger stepped closer and peered down at Zane as well.

Zane was jostled as the stretcher was moved around, wheeling him toward the back of the waiting ambulance. The agent didn’t even protest as they moved him, just sluggishly stared into nothing when he should have been unconscious. “He’s going to hurt for a while. A week, at least. Two is more likely. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s three or four. He’s dislocated his shoulder, broken two bones in his forearm, cracked four ribs, had his brain rattled around in his skull, and his hip is badly bruised,” she said grimly.

“Looks like his knee may be out, too. He’s a mess. I don’t know how he expects to operate without painkillers.”

“So he’s out of commission,” Ty muttered with a defeated look at Zane as they moved him.

She shrugged in answer.

“But how…” Henninger started, but glares from both Ty and the EMT shut him up.

Ty was torn. He’d already stepped over the line by forcing the anesthesia on Zane, though why the EMT hadn’t just done a local he couldn’t guess. She obviously knew more about it all than he did.

Should he call Burns and let him know Zane was out of service? He certainly wouldn’t be much good to the case now. Perhaps Ty should have Burns send someone new in. Or he could keep going on his own until Zane recovered, although he knew he couldn’t do this alone. He wasn’t as smart as the killer. He didn’t know what to do, and the indecisiveness was as annoying to him as it was uncharacteristic.

“Garrett can’t work like that. You’re going to have to call in and have him taken off the case,” Henninger advised as he watched Ty think it over.

“A case is the last thing Special Agent Garrett should be worrying about,” the EMT offered.

“Hmm?” Ty asked them both distractedly. “How did you get here, anyway?” he asked the young agent with sudden annoyance.

“I was waiting to meet you, heard about this mess over the radio, and got a bad feeling about it since you were late. When you got later, I decided to drive up here just in case and I saw
you
standing by the wreck,” Henninger 322 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

answered defensively. He glanced to the EMT uncertainly, and she rolled her eyes and walked the few steps to climb up into the truck with her patient.

“Look, Grady,” Henninger continued. “Catching this serial is more important than keeping Zane Garrett on the job.”

Ty was shocked that he almost found himself agreeing with the sentiment. He blinked at the man and then looked over at Zane, who was obviously struggling with the effects of the drugs. “You ever been asked the question ‘Who would you choose to save? A hundred strangers or one family member?’” he asked softly.

Henninger drew back in surprise and a hint of concern. “No,” he said cautiously. “But I’d answer a hundred strangers. That’s our job.”

“That is the noble answer, isn’t it?” Ty murmured as he looked back at Zane.

“We have a responsibility. If that’s noble, then….” Henninger shrugged, frowning as he noticed Ty’s attention wavering. “You know it’s the right thing to do,” he insisted.