Ball & Chain (Cut & Run 8)

There was a bang and crash from the kitchen, and voices began to echo up the steps. Zane and Kelly both stood and started toward the stairwell, shining flashlights down and holding their guns at the ready.

The first person to come into sight was John English, a frightened child in each of his massive arms, clinging to his neck. He raised his head when the lights hit him.

“You found them, they’re all safe?” Zane blurted, lowering his weapon.

English nodded and continued up the steps. Frost and Park followed behind him, the two older boys between them. The kids were all smudged with dirt and spiderwebs, their clothes dusty and covered in some sort of white rock dust. But they were all safe.

English and his Snake Eaters headed for the dining hall, where they could reunite the children with their parents. Deuce and Ty were having a harder time mounting the stairs, mostly because Deuce was clinging to Amelia and refusing to use the hand railing to help him up the steps, and Zane instantly recognized Ty in the throes of a very real panic attack.

He and Kelly darted down the stairs to assist.

Deuce refused to let his little girl out of his arms, so Kelly helped him up the steps, taking his weight.

Once Deuce and Amelia were in safe hands, Ty slid down the stairwell wall and refused to move. Zane knelt in front of him, setting his light on the step above them.

“You’re okay, doll,” he whispered. He gently touched Ty’s cheek.

Ty gasped in breath after breath, shaking his head. He wouldn’t open his eyes, so Zane simply leaned in and kissed him. Ty wrapped his arms around Zane’s neck, clinging to him, unable to even speak.

Zane didn’t know how he’d made it out of those walls without breaking down completely. He slipped his arm around Ty’s waist and hefted him to his feet. “Come on. Big and open upstairs.”

Ty’s fingers dug into Zane’s shoulder as Zane helped him up the steps. As soon as they made it out of the stairwell, Ty let go of him and awkwardly lowered himself to the ground with one hand, flattening out on the cool marble. He pressed his cheek to the floor and stroked his fingers over the tile. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he cooed to it.

Zane barked a laugh before he could stop himself. “Nice to see I was missed.” He bent and put a hand on Ty’s head. “Are you okay?”

Ty nodded jerkily, finally opening his eyes. “We found her.”

“I noticed. Come on.” Zane helped him off the ground and headed for the bench where Kelly was once again sitting. Ty’s steps were wobbly, but he seemed to be shaking the panic off. He always did.

Zane sat next to Kelly, and Ty stood for a second, his brow knitted in confusion. “What are we doing?” he asked.

“Waiting for Nick,” Kelly answered. He pointed at the door.

“Is he okay?”

Kelly shrugged. “He is. I wouldn’t put bets on Jockie Fraser, though.”

Ty looked from him to the door again. “Nick’s in there with him?”

“Getting information,” Kelly provided.

“Oh no. No, no,” Ty murmured. He started for the door.

“Ty, we gave the man a chance to talk,” Zane called after him.

“It’s not Fraser I’m worried about!” Ty shot over his shoulder.

The door opened before Ty could reach it. He stumbled to a halt in front of Nick. Zane and Kelly both lurched to their feet. Nick stepped out, glancing around the hall and at Ty. He met Kelly’s eyes, then Zane’s, and beckoned them in with a jerk of his head.

“We need Earl, too,” he said quietly.

Zane frowned in confusion, but turned and called for Earl to join them. They followed Kelly into the room, closing the heavy door behind them.

Jockie Fraser was slumped in the chair. His face didn’t look any worse than it had when they’d left him in here, but since it had already looked like he’d gone a round with an MMA fighter, that wasn’t saying much.

His hands, still tied to the arms of the chair, were quite obviously broken. Zane had no doubt there were other injuries they couldn’t see.

Nick walked up to stand beside and a little behind Fraser’s chair, and Fraser winced away from him with a whimper. Zane stared at him in morbid fascination.

“Tell them what you told me,” Nick ordered.

“The man who hired us,” Fraser gasped. He licked his lips and took shallow, rasping breaths like he couldn’t get enough air. “His name was Burns. Richard Burns.”

Chapter 12

Nick had known the name would cause a shock wave, but he was so eager to get the hell out of that room and away from the man he’d been questioning, he hadn’t cared about what sort of responses to expect.

Ty remained motionless, staring at Fraser with the sort of blank expression that said he was rapidly playing through all the possible reactions in his head to find the most appropriate one. Zane and Kelly both made noises of confusion and disbelief. And Earl turned on his heel, storming out of the room under a cloud of curses.

“Bullshit,” Ty finally whispered.

Nick lowered his head and started for the door, brushing past Ty as he went. He didn’t intend to be here for the second round of questioning.

Ty grabbed his elbow and frowned. “Are you okay?”

Nick glared at him. “Next time you need help, you call Digger.” He stalked out of the room before Ty could respond, and sought out the darkest, most remote corner he could find, treading into territory of the house he hadn’t explored. He didn’t care, though; he just needed to get away from that room and get the blood off his hands. His back hit the wall of the alcove he’d found, and he slid to the ground, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and curling his fingers through his hair.

The captain who’d strolled through camp one day fifteen years ago had plucked Nick from the canteen and told him he had extra duty for him. When Nick had learned they wanted him to train with CIA interrogators, he’d flat out refused, insisting he wasn’t cut out for that sort of thing. They’d told him that was the very reason they’d chosen him.

Well, f**k them. Nick had been right. He wasn’t cut out for it.

The scuff of a bootheel alerted him to someone near, and he raised his head. His night vision was still ruined, but it didn’t matter. The beam of a flashlight swept across his bare feet.

“Nick?” Kelly whispered. He came closer, the flashlight remaining on Nick’s feet instead of climbing higher. All Nick could make out was Kelly’s silhouette. He knelt and handed Nick a bundle. “I got you a change of clothes. Are you okay?”