Cut & Run (7 page)

Cut & Run | 35

“Fish.” Zane shrugged. “Okay, we can find a place. Unless you already have something in mind?” He really didn’t care. He’d eat anything. It was just the cocktails that got him in trouble.

“We’ll walk,” Ty suggested as he attached an ankle holster and checked that his backup was loaded. He dragged out his shoulder holster and did the same, then slipped his beaten leather jacket on and flexed his shoulders experimentally with a frown.

“Strap’s twisted,” Zane offered. He walked over and reached up under the jacket to flip the buckle so the strap laid flat along the back of Ty’s shoulder. Ty turned his head wordlessly and raised his eyebrows as Zane stepped into his space and fucked around with his weaponry.

Now, Zane wasn’t a stupid man. He’d seen Ty tense earlier at a slightly perceived threat. It wasn’t ignorance on Zane's part, getting so close without being invited. But he wanted his new partner to know that he wasn’t afraid of him. That he wasn’t
quite
the paper-pusher he made himself out to be.

Zane straightened the length of strap and pulled Ty’s jacket back down to cover it. “Let’s go. I could eat a whale,” he said absently, already warring within himself. Had he truly wanted to telegraph a message? Or had he simply taken advantage of the chance to touch the hard muscles he’d been seeing?
Danger zone, Garrett.

Ty cleared his throat and followed silently. Not many people had the nerve to step into his reach and touch him without his permission or some sort of forewarning. Either Zane really didn’t give a shit—which was contrary to his demeanor and actions—or he had no clue how dangerous Ty really was.

The third option was the most frightening; that he knew what Ty could do to him and he wasn’t concerned. Either way, it left Ty slightly unsettled as they went in search of food.

THEIR hotel was located just a block or two from Little Italy, and they had no trouble finding a restaurant there, which seemed to suit Ty just fine. Zane followed along as they were led to the table, eyeing the bar across the room with an internal sigh. He sat down at the table and immediately opened the menu.

Ty, however, left the menu in front of him and turned to the waitress with a grin. He went about ordering his Guinness and dinner with a series of 36 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

well-honed innuendo and rakish grins that had the girl giggling at him as she moved away.

Zane ignored what was becoming his partner’s customary behavior.

Sitting back, he reflected that maybe they should have kept looking for a different restaurant. One with televisions. Here, there was nothing to do but look at each other.

As he sat, Ty was observing the other patrons in the restaurant idly, noticing things about them that most people didn’t notice. His training forced him to take in who looked anxious, who seemed to be waiting for someone, who was wearing a coat too large for them that might conceal a weapon, who looked out of place. The list went on and on. “So,” he huffed as he looked back at Zane. “What now?”

“As opposed to what then?” Zane said, leaning back in his chair.

“You had the plan, remember?”

“You hijacked it with dinner,” Ty pointed out as the little waitress came back and slid Ty’s drink onto the table. “Thank you, darlin’,” he drawled as she passed by. He took one long draw from the bottle, then glanced around and placed his palm flat on the opening of the bottle before turning it upside down. He patted himself down with the beer like someone would have done with a bottle of cologne, taking another gulp every now and then as he smeared some on his neck and chest and finally rubbed his hands together and patted down his scruffy face.

Zane just watched, stirring lemon into his tea, shaking his head.

“That’s a waste of good beer. You should have ordered some shit like Bud Light.”

“Do I look like I drink Bud Light?” Ty sneered before downing what was left of the beer. He raised his hand and called over the waitress again.

“You think the girls are going to be able to tell the difference?”

“You underestimate their prowess,” Ty laughed as he leaned back and stretched his hands over his head. The waitress sidled over and Ty smiled at her. “Bring my irritating friend here a Bud Light, would you, sweetheart?”

She repressed a snort and gave Zane a nod before turning away again.

“No,” Zane said sharply, voice quite firm. “That’s not necessary.”

She turned around and raised her eyebrows in question. Ty pursed his lips and then smiled, shaking his head and gesturing for her to bring it anyway.

Cut & Run | 37

“Your
irritating
friend has no interest in a beer, Grady,” Zane ground out.

“It’s not to drink,” Ty responded with an easy smile.

Zane relaxed slightly, though he was still frowning. “Then what do you plan to do with it?” he asked suspiciously. Ty merely waved a hand at himself in answer. Zane rolled his eyes before he could stop himself and really wished Ty had waited until after dinner to “freshen up.” It would be bad enough walking around with him without smelling it all through dinner, too.

The waitress brought the ordered beer and smiled at Ty flirtatiously as she passed by. Zane watched her thoughtfully and wondered if Ty really was charming or if he was just good-looking enough to pull it off. Either way, it irritated Zane already.

Ty slid the bottle across the table and waved a hand. “You can wait

’til after we eat, if you like,” he offered charitably.

Eyes narrowing, Zane looked at Ty, then the bottle, then back at Ty.

“Oh,
hell
no. One of us smelling like a drunk is
plenty
.”

Ty merely shrugged. The man wasn’t going with him without playing the part. Whether he did it voluntarily was not Ty’s concern. It might even be fun to douse him down, Ty pondered with a smile.

“So,” he leered as he leaned his elbows on the table again. “Tell me about
your
hookers. You don’t seem the type,” he said with a pointed look at the wedding band on Zane’s finger.

Zane willfully ignored the beer bottle. “And what is my type?” he asked in a clipped voice, his left hand curling into a loose fist before he pulled it off the table and settled it out of sight, hiding the ring. He wondered how many new insults Ty could come up with. It really was a game to him, apparently, and it made it more difficult for Zane to maintain his stony reserve.

Ty snorted in response. “Yeah, okay,” he responded in amusement. “I guess you would need to pay someone to tolerate you.”

Letting the insult pass, for more reasons than the truth of it, Zane prodded back instead. “I’m sure you have a very well-formed and detailed profile ready to throw out there, proving how lacking I am.”

Ty’s eyebrow rose and he leaned forward. “Have you read my file?”

he inquired curiously.

38 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

“In what time, since we’ve been together practically the entire past thirty-six hours?” Zane asked sarcastically. “That’s not to say I didn’t think about having it pulled.”

Ty narrowed his eyes, then let it go as a coincidence. “Profile of you, huh?” he drawled with a smirk instead.

“Despite your insistence on being an utter asshole, you are undeniably educated and highly trained,” Zane said, drawing on the minute clues and data he’d been gathering about Ty to make a strong guess. Number-crunching, as it were. “So, I’m betting you’ve assessed for threat, judged for education, gauged strengths and weaknesses … yes. A profile.”

“Your logic is irrefutable,” Ty complimented, still grinning. “I do have one,” he answered with a matter-of-fact nod. “I’m still waiting for you to change it.”

Zane’s interest in the line of conversation dissipated, as did any life or spark in his dark eyes as his expression went hard again. People were always expecting him to change. “Very charitable of you,” he said curtly.

Ty shrugged. “You want me continuing to think you’re a candy-ass content to ride a desk, that’s fine with me. Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance, though,” he warned as he leaned back in his seat again and glanced to his right as someone moved too quickly in his peripheral vision. He watched them suspiciously for a moment in silence, the sudden tenseness filtering through his entire body.

“There’s nothing I can do to change your opinion,” Zane said sourly, not even noticing the change in Ty’s demeanor. “Besides, it’s not too far off.”

His tone had turned decidedly bitter, and Zane took a long drink of his iced tea to get the annoyance back under control.

“Ah, I hear a past bubbling forth,” Ty responded with a point at Zane as he pulled his attention away from their fellow diners. “There’s another thing I don’t wanna talk about.”

“I’ve got no desire to hear violins wailing, anyway,” Zane snapped.

Ty laughed joyously and nodded. “That’s better,” he said approvingly.

Zane’s nose wrinkled as he reined in his temper yet again. Something about Ty brought out the parts of him he tried to hide from the light of day.

Surely, this was headed for disaster. “There were four,” he muttered before thinking better of it.

Cut & Run | 39

“Four what?” Ty asked in apparent confusion.

Zane cleared his throat in annoyance and glanced around them.

“Hookers,” he said through gritted teeth.

“All at once?” Ty asked with a mocking sort of wide-eyed innocence.

“Not all four, no,” Zane said under his breath.

“Shame,” Ty drawled with a smirk. “Why?”

Zane sighed inwardly. “One of them was busy with a john in the other bed,” he said as he lifted his glass to call for a refill. That had been one hell of a night—what he remembered of it.

“That’s fascinatingly kinky,” Ty drawled flatly. “But I meant why hookers,” he corrected with an impish grin. “Paying for it usually means you’re doing it to get out frustrations, not enjoy it.”

“Or being too drunk off your ass to know otherwise,” Zane pointed out, taking another sip of tea.

Ty raised his eyebrows and inclined his head in interest. “Are you a drunk?” he asked directly.

Zane’s lips twisted in wry amusement, and he took a drink of tea rather than answering.

“Well, that should make any firefights we get into interesting,” Ty drawled sarcastically. “Sorry, boss, I aimed for the middle one!” he cried softly as he squinted and raised his hand and waved it in front of him, mimicking a man who was seeing double as he tried to aim.

Zane’s eyes were flat and emotionless. “I don’t drink anymore,” he said after a long pause.

“Meaning?” Ty prodded slowly. “What, you’re a
recovering
alcoholic
?” he asked with sarcasm lacing the words.

Trying very hard to push down a sudden desire to commit homicide, Zane’s eyes narrowed and began to glitter with anger. He should have known Ty would disrespect even this. “Alcoholics don’t recover,” he said sharply as he pushed out of his chair. “I’ll be back,” he muttered, heading to the front door.

“I know they don’t,” Ty called after him without getting up. “They must not have a sarcasm translator in Cyber,” he muttered to himself with a roll of his eyes.

40 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

Zane heard him but was too angry to turn around. He had to calm down or he’d lose his grip on his well-practiced control. He pushed out the doors and onto the sidewalk, walked a few yards away, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and lit up, watching the foot traffic go by as he cooled off.

Left behind in the restaurant with several patrons glancing at him curiously, Ty simply shrugged and reached for a breadstick to gnaw on. The alcoholism thing didn’t mesh with the mental profile he’d created of his new partner. He’d have to reconsider after his task tonight.

Taking his time with the cigarette, Zane jammed the butt out when he was done and tossed it in a trash can outside the restaurant before heading back in. The salads were on the table, and he sat down and started eating without saying a word.

“Bit of a temper, huh?” Ty greeted as he chewed. “That’s a good idea,” commented the man who was notorious for losing his temper in explosive ways. “To walk away like that.”

Zane grunted in answer as he ate a few bites of salad, deciding if he wanted to answer. “Had to learn,” he finally said as he nabbed a breadstick.

“Were you a cop?” Ty asked him in return, his mind making leaps and bounds of logic as he continued to chew.

“Are we playing twenty questions now?” Zane asked. “No. I was never a cop.”

“I ask ’cause big city cops are usually plagued by drinking and anger problems,” Ty informed him. “And I assume they started and were taken care of before you were in the Bureau because you wouldn’t have stayed in after developing them. Military?” he asked dubiously.

Zane had to smile a little as he looked up and saw the wheels turning.

“Not military. You get two more guesses.”

“Funny, I had you pegged for Air Force,” Ty drawled with a shake of his head and a smirk.

A sharp bark of laughter escaped Zane before he could repress it.

“Unfortunately, my candy-ass image is only recently cultivated. I’m pleased that it’s so convincing,” he said, not at all brightly. He still wanted a drink, and his itchy hands and parched throat were getting worse. “You’re military, of course.”

“Marines,” Ty offered as he looked up at Zane without moving his head, his fork stopping as he smiled slowly. “Force Recon.”

Cut & Run | 41

Zane’s shoulders stiffened. So Ty was a highly specialized warrior, trained to take the worst of a hostile environment. To be there and be invisible. To be there and be deadly. The knowledge made something inside Zane go cold. “Makes sense,” he said tightly. “Anyone who could be so insubordinate could only have been the total opposite at some point in time,”

he observed. Zane pushed the salad bowl away and strongly contemplated another cigarette.

Ty snorted and shook his head in amusement. “Insubordinate,” he echoed with a little snicker.

Glancing up, Zane was already resigned to being insulted. Modus operandi for Ty. “What?”

“If I were really all that much of a liability, do you think I’d still be around?” Ty inquired curiously. “I mean, I’m good, but I ain’t
that
good.”