Touch & Geaux (Cut & Run 7)
“That was you, huh?” Shine nodded and Ty chuckled, even more breathless and hoarse than before. “Is this a bad time to talk about how I f**ked your sister?”
Shine backhanded him hard enough to tilt the chair.
Gaudet sneered. “You got a smart mouth on you, boy. Always did. Shine’ll fix that right up, though.”
“He better hurry,” Ty managed to say. He gulped for air, trying to force himself to hyperventilate. He had to be convincing.
Gaudet bent in front of him, narrowing his eyes. He waved at Shine. “He’s having one of those damn allergy attacks,” he said, disgusted. “I told you not to use that damn powder, boy, now he’s gonna die before he can talk!”
“How in the hell are we supposed to search an entire neighborhood of ruined houses?” Owen hissed.
Zane pulled out a top shelf bottle of whiskey and didn’t offer to share.
Nick sat beside him and leaned close so no one else would hear him. “You want to go easy on the hooch, Garrett?”
“What’s it to you?” Zane whispered. He stared at the tabletop, unable to get Ty’s face out of his mind.
“You’re sitting here drinking when Ty’s in trouble. That doesn’t seem like the Zane Garrett I met.”
“That man died last night.”
“I get it,” Nick said. “He lied to you.”
Zane glanced at him then looked away quickly. The last person he wanted to talk to about this with was Nick O’Flaherty. Hell, the man was probably standing in line waiting for Ty to be single.
“You know what, Zane, he lied to us too. In fact, I don’t know a single person Ty hasn’t lied to, including himself.”
Zane huffed and took another drink of whiskey. “You must be one hell of a loyal bastard.”
“He’s earned it.”
“Has he? Has he really earned that from you, O’Flaherty? Because I thought he’d earned it from me too, and then I found out the truth. I found out he uses things like love and loyalty as tools.”
“You have no idea what love and loyalty mean to him if that’s what you really believe.”
“No?” Zane took a gulp of whiskey. “Why don’t you educate me then, O’Flaherty, because you know him so f**king well.”
“I know Ty’s not all there,” Nick said, tapping his temple with a finger. “He has always been a step away from the wrong path. One screw comes loose, and he’s gone. The only thing keeps him on the side of the righteous is his loyalty. His sense of purpose. You take that from him? And you’re looking into the eyes of a monster.”
Zane glanced at Nick, surprised by how hard the words hit him.
“So you question his motives. You question his tactics. But you be damn sure you know what you’re doing before you question his loyalty.”
“Two days ago, I was trying to decide how to ask him to marry me,” Zane whispered. “Tonight I’m trying to figure out if I can even love someone like him.”
Nick was silent for a long while, long enough for Zane to drain his glass. Then he leaned closer. “You ask yourself if you’re in love. You’re not asking the right question.”
Zane laughed bitterly. “What’s the right question?”
Nick pressed a finger onto the table. “Would you bust him out of prison?”
“No,” Zane answered immediately.
Nick sat back, eyebrows climbing high. “No?”
“No,” Zane said again. He poured another glass, gritting his teeth. “I wouldn’t let him make it to a cell.”
“How is that not enough?”
Zane glared. “Look, I know you’re the team mother or whatever, but stop. I’m not part of your team.”
Nick tilted his head. “You are now. And I know if Ty were here, he wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
Zane slammed a hand on the table and grabbed Nick’s shirt collar. “Well Ty’s not here!”
Nick didn’t retaliate or try to break his hold. He just put a hand on Zane’s shoulder. “So help me find him. And I’ll help you break him out of jail.”
Zane wanted to lash out, to shout again or to shove him away. But it was nearly impossible to remain angry and sullen under Nick’s calming influence. Besides, Ty needed them. He let go of Nick’s shirt and sat back. Nick reached slowly for the bottle, giving Zane a chance to stop him; Zane shook his head and stood up, running both hands through his hair. “Just put it where I can’t find it.”
Liam cleared his throat loudly. “Now that that crisis has passed, can we focus here?”
Zane glowered at him, but Liam merely leered in return.
“Okay, we can narrow it down,” Digger said. He took out his combat knife and gouged a deep line across the table. “This is the canal. When the levees broke, the barges in the canal and the storm surge took out most of the houses alongside it. What’s left in these first few blocks,” he said, slashing the table into a grid, “is nothing but empty lots or rebuilt homes.”
Zane studied the grid closer. “So we can narrow it down.”
Digger nodded.
“It wouldn’t be near the canal then, nor would it be near businesses or large thoroughfares,” Zane said.
Digger scratched his cheek with the large knife, then marked the approximate areas Zane had mentioned. “Also, most of the houses with no one living in them will still have markings on the sides.”
“What sort of markings?”
“A spray-painted X. Little markings in each quadrant. They were used when rescue crews went through the houses to show when they were there, which crew it was, what sort of dangers there were. And the body count.”
Zane nodded, wincing. He remembered Ty talking about the rescue efforts he and others had been involved in after Hurricane Katrina hit. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the horrors.
“Some of those houses still have their markings. Means the owners haven’t been able to return to rebuild. Or they ain’t coming back. We find a marked house with a vehicle near it, I guarandamntee you that’s our spot.”
“So we can find him,” Owen said. He was standing behind Digger’s chair, unable to sit still.
“We don’t even know if they have him,” Nick said. “If the Colombians got him first, he’s dead.”
“And if he got away, he’s sitting in a casino, drinking a cocktail in front of a security camera,” Zane said.