Touch&Geaux (11 page)

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Because you interest me, Grady. You’re clever, you’re

adaptive. You’ve got balls the size of coconuts. Figuratively

speaking, of course. And you’re pretty as hell, which actually

gets you farther in these kinds of things than you’d think.”

“You’re talking about–”

“I’m talking about making a difference. I’m talking

about files so redacted they print them on black paper. I’m

talking about things you could never spill to that Boy Scout

O’Flaherty unless he’s in on it.”

“Boy Scout.”

Turner nodded. “You two are joined at the hip. I know

he dragged you off the ground when you fell out of a PT run

to make Recon, and I know you carried him to the end of a

course when he nearly broke his ankle, giving up the course

record in the process, all so you could stay together.”

Ty grew warmer, realizing how much homework Turner

had done on him. It was flattering, in a way.

“For a while I thought you two were an item, but seeing

that letter I realized my mistake.”

“What the hell does any of this have to do with your

team?”

“If you say yes, you’ll have to bring him with you.”

“I’m not pul ing O’Flaherty into anything unless I vet it

first.”“Of course. Which is why you’re here now and he’s not.”

Ty grunted, growing more frustrated.

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“I don’t need an answer right now,” Turner said with a

smirk. “To either proposition. And one is not dependent on

the other. You should think it over.”

Ty nodded, dazed.

“Think over it hard. Once you go down my road, you

don’t go back. You’ll come out the other end someone else.

Someone . . . you might not like. Someone this David of yours

definitely won’t like.”

Ty looked him up and down. “That what happened to

you?”

Turner shrugged.

“You seem pretty okay with yourself.”

“Well, I was an asshole when I started.” He handed Ty

a carved white knight. Ty stared at it, spinning it between

his fingers. Turner kept talking, his voice low and persuasive.

“You could be some anonymous white knight, Grady. If that’s

the road you want to take. Loyalty and honor. A drop of

decency in a bucket with a hole too large to patch. Or you

could be my rook.”

He slid a black playing piece across the board.

Ty looked from the rook to Turner again, fighting the

magnetic pull of the man, intrigued by his offer despite the

feeling of foreboding growing in the pit of his stomach.

“Say yes, Ty, and I’ll teach you everything I know.”

1997. Location classified.

Ty shielded his eyes from the sun, watching the men load

the deuce and a half with unmarked crates.

Turner came up to stand beside him, geared up and ready

to go.

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“Where’s your detail?” Ty asked.

“We’re going in light on this one.”

“Bullshit.” Ty turned to face Turner, eyes growing wider.

“There’s a shit storm ten klicks from here. You can’t head out

there without a detail.”

Turner shook his head. “The major disagrees.” He stepped

away, heading for the heavy transport vehicle.

“Chas,” Ty hissed as he lunged to grab at his elbow and

stop him. They both glanced around to make sure no one was

watching. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Take my boys with

you. Hell, take me with you, someone that isn’t a goddamn

paper pusher with a toy gun.”

Turner shook his head and looked away. Ty shoved his

arm in frustration.

“Careful, Sergeant,” Turner said in a harsh whisper. “It’s

not my cal , okay? You’re not ready for this.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t tell you; you haven’t been read in,” Turner said

between gritted teeth.

“So read me in and take me with you to watch your back.”

Turner narrowed his eyes. “Rook, just calm down, go

inside with your boys. I’ll be back tomorrow and you can take

it out of my ass then.”

Ty snorted through his nose like an angry bul . Turner

gave him a condescending pat on the cheek before striding

off. “Hey, Captain,” Ty called after him.

Turner stopped and turned, raising an eyebrow.

“Is there a reason you have to be such a dick all the time?”

Turner licked his lips and walked closer, looking all

around them to ensure they were having a private discussion.

“Because,” he said in a low voice as he drew closer. “Being such

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a dick all the time lets you know that when I stand here and

tell you I love you, I fucking mean it.”

Ty’s mouth dropped open as he stared. Turner put a finger

under his chin and pushed his jaw shut.

“Now. You stay here and ponder that, and when I get back

we’ll discuss it.”

Ty nodded and watched him walk off. “Watch your damn

six,” he said. Turner gave him a cocky wave over his shoulder,

but didn’t turn back around.

Two days later, Ty stood with Nick O’Flaherty and Elias

Sanchez and watched the deuce and a half roll in. They kept

their distance with the other Recon boys, silent sentinels as

the men unloaded the bodies.

“I’m sorry, Grady. I know you two were close,” Nick

finally said.

Ty just nodded, unable to speak for the tightness in his

throat.

“If they’d let us run detail,” Sanchez muttered. “What a

fucking waste.”

They turned away and headed back for the barracks tent,

but Ty remained, watching silently as they laid Chas Turner’s

body in a wooden coffin and closed it up.

“Jesus, Ty. I had no idea,” Nick murmured. “You hid your

grief well.”

Zane held tighter to Ty’s hand, but Ty shrugged off the

sentiment. He took another swallow of beer. They’d all lost

people they cared for. Chas Turner was no different, nor was

Eli Sanchez. The losses never stopped hurting.

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“Eli hit me harder than the captain ever did,” Ty admitted.

He squeezed Zane’s hand, glancing at his lover and offering

him a sad smile. “But when I look back and wonder what

moment really made me who I am, it’s him.”

“He taught us just about every goddamned thing we

know,” Nick muttered.

Ty nodded and glanced at his lover again. Zane hadn’t

said anything, but Ty knew he was processing. He’d probably

come up in a week or a month or a year and want to discuss

it. The thought made Ty’s smile grow warmer, and he brought

Zane’s hand up to kiss his fingers.

“Captain Turner was one badass mother, though,” Nick

mused. “And now I understand why they called you Rook

when we ran those missions.”

“What did they call you?” Zane asked.

“Ricochet.”

“Why is that?”

Nick shrugged, smiling enigmatically. “Couple lucky

trick shots.”

“Marine nicknames usually don’t have a lot of thought

put into them,” Ty explained. “And they change all the damn

time. Nick had like five. I went through about ten.”

“Huh.” Zane glanced at Ty and smiled. “Rook, huh? I like

that. It’s sexy.”

Ty winced. It wasn’t a name anyone had called him in

years. Possibly a decade. He liked the way it rolled off Zane’s

tongue, but he didn’t like the echoes of the past that came

with it.

Zane leaned toward him, putting his lips to Ty’s ear. “I

think I’ll stick with Bulldog.”

Ty turned his head to capture a quick kiss.

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“Oh, stop,” Nick drawled. “I’m going into a diabetic coma

over here.”

“I find myself fascinated by it,” Kelly said as he stared at

Ty. “I can’t even come up with an appropriate comparison.”

“Stop trying,” Ty grunted. He brushed his thumb over

Zane’s palm.

They settled back to enjoy the silence of the night,

something the Recon team had done so many times over the

years. Silence was a commodity where they’d spent most of

their time. They had learned to appreciate it. And Zane was a

man who inherently knew the value of silence.

Ty’s mind drifted over the many years they’d spent

scratching and clawing their way through battle after battle.

He and Nick had been together since the beginning, their

promotions never more than a few months apart, their

achievements linked in ways not many people understood.

Sanchez had come next. He’d put in for Recon at the

same time as Ty and Nick, and it hadn’t taken long for him to

fall into step with them. The others hadn’t arrived until they’d

moved up to Force Recon, and then the six of them had been

inseparable until the day they’d gone home.

And then Sanchez had come with Ty to the FBI.

“I miss him too,” Nick said.

Ty nodded and swallowed hard. Kelly sniffed.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” Nick said.

Ty took a deep breath, not surprised that Nick had known

exactly what he’d been thinking. “He called me for help,” he

whispered. “I didn’t answer it, and two days later he was dead.”

“Ty,” Zane whispered. “Jesus, is that why you always

answer your phone?”

Ty nodded curtly.

Zane’s hand tightened in his.

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“You wouldn’t have saved him, Six,” Nick murmured.

Ty’s throat tightened and he looked away. He covered

his mouth with his beer bottle and slumped further into his

chair. Zane’s hand in his offered more consolation than their

words, though.

“Eli . . . he went out with his boots on,” Kelly said. He

shook his head and took a drink. “That’s the only comfort

there is in losing him.”

“And you know what? Zane took care of it,” Nick added.

Zane flinched, and he leaned forward to look at Nick.

Nick raised his beer bottle in a salute.

“That’s right,” Kelly said. “Zane handled that shit. Like a

boss.”Zane barked a laugh. “Thanks. I think.”

Ty gave Kelly an incredulous glance. “How long has he

been drinking?”

Nick shrugged. “Since we got here.”

“He’s not climbing back down there.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘fal ing,’” Kelly

muttered. “Fal ing.”

Nick reached across Ty’s lap and tapped Zane on the

knee. “We know how you handled it, Garrett. And to us, that

means you’re our brother too, you know?”

Ty watched Nick’s profile as the man settled back in his

chair, throat constricting again. Nick cal ing someone his

brother was the ultimate in acceptance from him. There was

no higher honor in Nick’s mind.

“I, uh . . . thank you,” Zane stuttered.

Kelly leaned forward, holding his beer up. “To Sanchez.”

Ty swallowed hard and held his beer out. Zane joined

with his water bottle. The glass clinked as they each said a

solemn, “Oorah.”

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“Happy birthday, buddy,” Kelly said as he stared out into

the night sky and finished off his beer.

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t was over-warm and stuffy in their suite, and Zane woke

I
up feeling half-suffocated. New Orleans in late April

was pleasant after the chill of Baltimore, but it seemed the

air conditioning was having trouble keeping up. It didn’t help

that he was half-draped over Ty as they slept.

He slowly extricated himself from Ty’s arms and sat up,

rubbing his eyes before looking down at his lover, who lay

sprawled beside him. The heavy curtains blocked the morning

sun, and he could barely see Ty as he tossed and turned.

Ty wasn’t an unusually restless sleeper, a fact at great odds

with his waking hours. But now he seemed unsettled. He

tossed his head and shifted his legs, a soft groan passing his

lips. He rolled onto his side, his shoulders beginning the slow,

rhythmic rocking that often kept Zane awake.

Zane watched him for a few moments, wondering if it

was a dream that was causing the grimace on Ty’s face. He

got up to head for the bathroom, only to find Kelly and Nick

both tangled on the floor at the foot of the bed. He knew they

hadn’t made it back to their room last night, but they had both

started on the pullout sofa. It must have been uncomfortable

as hell to make them move to the floor.

Nick was using a pillow Ty had tossed him in the middle

of the night, and Kelly was using Nick’s stomach to rest his

head as he snored. Zane snorted.

He rolled his eyes and stepped over them to head for the

bathroom, where he took his time, brushing his teeth, shaving,

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savoring the silence of the early morning. He fumbled in the

dark for the pile of clothing he’d left last night and grabbed

his pants to hunt for his cigarettes, remembering too late that

his lighter had gone missing. “Dammit.”

He was surprised when his fingers brushed the tip of the

lighter, though, stuck down in his jeans pocket. He dug it out,

and a piece of paper came wrapped tightly around it. Zane

scowled as he unrolled it and held it up to the sliver of weak

light coming through the part in the curtain to read the words