Sticks and Stones (26 page)

Deuce merely rolled his eyes and sank back into his chair. “Shall we talk about dinner, then?” he asked wryly.

Z
ANE
pushed through the brush, having escaped from the campsite to smoke after Earl and Deuce called it a night. He stopped maybe twenty-five, thirty yards back down the yellow-brick road and off the path a little ways, shook the cigarette out of the package, and lit up before leaning his head sideways against one of the trees he’d taken shelter under. He looked out into the dark, trying not to think, trying to shrug off the tension.

God, he was twitchy. After dealing with a long hike up into strange territory, the treasure hunters and their booby traps, Earl’s repeated verbal jabs at Ty, the capture and showdown, and then the stressful walk to the camp, Zane’s strongest instinctive response—besides wanting to curl up in a ball and protect his head—was to try to calm and comfort his partner. Ty would let himself be coddled when he was hurting when others couldn’t see. But Zane doubted anything he could do at this point would help, if Ty would even let him try. It was frustrating.

Zane knew one thing: that sure as hell wouldn’t happen with Earl around. Zane had never seen Ty react to anyone like he did to Earl. Zane had never even imagined Ty had it in him to behave the way he did around his father: sedate and quiet and eager merely to follow orders.

It was obvious that Earl Grady had been hard on his sons growing up, but it had been clear from the start that Ty and Deuce loved and respected him a great deal. They boys seemed to be more a product of tough love rather than abuse. And the Gradys hadn’t struck Zane as a family that bickered and sniped to hurt each other until Earl had called Ty a coward.

The anger still flamed through Zane at the mere thought. The sheer audacity it took to even
think
that was stunning. And the fact that Ty had so obviously taken it to heart just because his father had been the one to say it made Zane want to hit something. He couldn’t help but wonder if Earl was being cruel because he was reacting in some way to Zane’s presence. Had he picked up on their relationship? Was he taking it out on Ty because he’d realized what they were doing and disapproved? Zane sighed and shook his head. He was pretty sure he was just being paranoid, and he knew he shouldn’t brood over things he couldn’t change. Leaning his head back, Zane blew a long column of smoke up into the air.

A twig broke somewhere in the darkness as someone moved behind him. Zane tensed and had one hand immediately on his gun as he whirled around.

“Don’t shoot me,” Ty requested quietly as he materialized out of the darkness. Zane relaxed and huffed at him, taking the cigarette from his lips. “Those things’ll kill you,” Ty said softly as he moved to sit on a fallen log near Zane. He stared out over the dimly moonlit valley below them.

Zane’s lips quirked a little, and he relaxed back against the tree as he looked down at his partner. “I’m still expecting bullets anytime now.”

Ty sighed with a hint of the downtrodden to him and nodded in agreement. He looked down at one of his boots and pulled a stick from the tread of it. They stayed quiet for a few minutes, with Zane gazing down at him. “How are you holding up?” Zane finally murmured.

Ty merely shrugged and looked off into the distance. There wasn’t really much to stare at, as dark as it was. It was obvious from the line of his shoulders that he was not going to talk about his father or his feelings or much of anything else. He rarely did.

“I’m starting to think that we’re better off at work than we are on vacation,” Zane mentioned after a few more quiet minutes.

Ty was silent for a moment, but then he lowered his head and snorted. He chuckled ruefully, the sound loud in the still, cold night.

Zane smiled as he finished his cigarette and stubbed it out carefully on an exposed rock before he put it back in the slightly crumpled pack. “Next time we should tell Burns to send us on a case somewhere miserable. Fate would mean we’d be safe there.”

Ty nodded in agreement as his laughter trailed off. He didn’t seem to have much of anything to say, and Zane wondered why he’d sought him out. He stared off into the mountain blackness without moving again. It felt like a moment that deserved a beer or two, even though Zane knew he wouldn’t have been drinking.

Finally, Ty looked over at Zane and sighed. “Got any more of those cigarettes?” he asked quietly.

Zane slowly raised an eyebrow. He got the pack out of his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, sliding it between his lips. After another moment, he had it lit, and after inhaling once, he offered it to Ty.

Ty shook his head as he reached out and took the cigarette. Instead of stubbing it out and flicking it away like he usually did when he took one of Zane’s cigarettes, he took a long drag of it and handed it back to Zane wordlessly.

After a few heartbeats, he reached out and took it again, keeping it this time.

He was silent, unmoving as he sat with his elbows propped on his knees and his head cocked to the side, only occasionally putting the cigarette to his lips.

Zane didn’t know what else there was to do. He’d learned that sometimes the best thing to do with Ty was to wait. Sometimes his partner needed time to work up to what he wanted to say, and sometimes he never said anything at all. So Zane kept quiet and sat down heavily next to him, facing the opposite way so their shoulders brushed as they sat, extending his legs, and lightly prodding the swollen cheekbone under his black eye with one long finger.

“How’s it feel?” Ty asked him softly after several minutes of sitting in silence.

“Hurts like hell,” Zane admitted. The aching throb in the whole side of his face was his pulse. He’d be really colorful for the next several days.

Ty looked over at him with a sympathetic frown. He was the only one who had remained uninjured through the whole ordeal; even after the can bomb, the grenades, the beating he’d taken, and the skirmish, he’d come out with just a bruise or two from the punches he’d taken. He didn’t even have a scratch on him. Zane wondered if Ty was adding a bit of survivor’s guilt to all his other current problems. He watched him worriedly. Ty didn’t deserve this.

Ty lowered his head again and blew a stream of smoke down toward his feet. “You sure it’s not broken?” he asked mildly.

Zane shut his eyes and made himself unclench his jaw, because that just made it hurt even more. “No,” he muttered.

Ty turned his head to look at him, examining him in the darkness. It was hard to make out his features, so he probably wasn’t seeing many of Zane’s, either. After a moment, he nodded and looked away. “We’ll get it checked out when we get back,” he said softly.

Zane nodded. He knew better than to think that was the last he’d hear about it, but for now, he sighed. “It’ll help when I can get some sleep,” he said quietly. It was getting ridiculous how much he was saying and thinking that lately.

Ty glanced at him as he blew smoke to the side. “Still with the nightmares?”

“And then some.”

“You stopped seeing the shrink?” Ty asked carefully.

Zane’s nose wrinkled as he peered out into the darkness. “I had a disagreement with the Bureau therapist in Miami.”

Ty was silent, mulling it over. “Like a… personal disagreement?” he finally asked.

“I suppose you could call it that,” Zane said as he sank his cold hands into his jacket pockets. “I thought therapy was supposed to help you recover. It wasn’t.”

Ty looked down at his feet and back at Zane doubtfully. “Why didn’t you talk to me about any of this?” he asked in confusion. “I was getting so pissed at you,” he admitted as he looked away again.

Zane winced. “I don’t know. I knew I’d be changing therapists anyway since I was moving to DC, and I guess I figured you’d tell me to suck it up. I was really hoping I’d just get over it, but….”

Ty glanced at Zane, seeming as if he wanted to say something. He hesitated, starting and stopping several times before he finally took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry I haven’t been a better partner to you, Garrett.”

Zane blinked at him in surprise. “What makes you say that?” This was an odd mirror of the conversation he’d had with Deuce a few nights ago.

Ty exhaled another long stream of smoke and shook his head again. “I backed away when I knew you needed help,” he answered in a low murmur. “I should have stuck with you, whether you wanted me to or not. You’re not a quitter, good or bad,” he said wryly as he handed Zane the half-smoked cigarette as evidence.

“Yeah, well,” Zane drew out. He had no idea what to say to that, but he was relieved to finally get an answer to why Ty had been drifting away from him in DC. Ty simply nodded and looked down at his feet again. Zane huffed quietly, took a last drag off the cigarette, and ground it out on the rock underfoot. He studied Ty’s profile. “You’re a great partner,” he added quietly.

Ty had been looking at his feet diligently, but then he glanced up, a flash of surprise in his expressive eyes. He studied Zane for a moment before nodding. “Likewise,” he whispered.

Some of the tightness Zane had been feeling in his chest since he talked with Deuce relaxed. That wasn’t something Ty would lie to him about just to make him feel better. That was one of the good things about having a partner who was so brutally honest and blunt. When he said something good, Zane knew he meant it.

“I’m working on it,” Zane said just as quietly. When he closed his eyes, he saw that shotgun going off and a shot tearing into Ty’s back as he crumpled forward into the dirt. He blinked his eyes open and reminded himself silently that he’d been in time to stop that from happening.

They sat in silence, feeling the chill settle in the air and listening to the soothing sounds of the mountain. Ty finally lifted his chin slightly and breathed in deeply. “I know how hard it is after you pull that trigger,” he said quietly. “If you need to talk about it….”

Zane very carefully did not turn his chin toward Ty. The very words he’d spoken told Zane several things: Ty was surprised that Zane had shot the man—even though Ty’s life had been at risk—that he thought it had to have been a difficult choice for Zane to make, and that he believed his partner was suffering somehow over taking a life. For a moment, Zane felt a pang of loss for the man he’d been years ago, a man who’d agonized after killing a murderer in the line of duty.

That man was long gone.

Zane sighed softly. Ty thought he was a better man than he really was. Zane wanted him to think that for at least a little while longer.

Ty glanced over at him, looking at him in a way Zane had never seen. He seemed to be contemplating Zane’s reaction, trying to decide how to categorize it. Then he reached out slowly, taking hold of Zane’s shirt and pulling him until their noses almost touched. He turned his head slightly, almost brushing their lips together. Zane could feel the prickle of Ty’s grown-out whiskers against his lips.

“Next time you’re struggling, you tell me,” Ty said quietly. “Don’t care what it’s about. That way I don’t have to guess what you need from me.”

Zane’s lips pressed together hard, and he swallowed with difficulty, not wanting to pull away from Ty even an inch. “I don’t want you to think I can’t back you up,” he said, their lips brushing as he spoke.

“When I think that, you’ll know it,” Ty promised, and he leaned away from him just enough to be able to look him in the eye. “It’s twice now you’ve saved my life,” he reminded in a gruff voice. “Time you stopped thinking of yourself as the weaker half.”

Zane spent a moment studying Ty’s face, his eyes so close, their lips so close. “I’ll try,” he whispered.

Ty nodded, but he didn’t let go of Zane’s shirt, nor did he move away from him.

“You’re pretty damn strong yourself, Ty Grady,” Zane said softly, raising his hand to touch Ty’s scruffy cheek gently. His beard had grown to nearly a full one. It suited him somehow. Zane thought maybe
anything
would suit Ty. Ty snorted in amusement and released Zane’s shirt. “Strong enough to take care of yourself,” Zane added pointedly.

Ty rolled his eyes. “You think I could have taken care of myself after being shot in the back with a twelve gauge?” he posed.

“That’s why I killed him,” Zane said bluntly.

Ty nodded, still looking into Zane’s eyes unwaveringly. He smoothed down the material of Zane’s shirt that had bunched under his hand and looked away almost regretfully. “That’s why I said thank you,” he pointed out.

“There aren’t many things left that truly scare me, Ty,” Zane said softly. “But that’s one of them.”

“What is?” Ty asked without looking back at him. There was a hint of dread in his voice as he stared devotedly at the ground.

Zane looked at him longingly, the words on the tip of his tongue: Not being in time.
Losing you
. But just the sound of Ty’s voice carried a warning; they were too close to a line neither of them wanted to cross.

“Hell freezing over because you actually said thank you,” he tried instead.

The tension in Ty’s frame ebbed some as he looked at Zane, and he seemed almost relieved to accept the out, as weak as it may have been. “Well,” he said after a moment. “Quit being a scaredy-cat,” he advised in an almost gentle voice.