Touch&Geaux (29 page)

him. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m still yours.”

Zane huffed, his stomach tumbling at Ty’s words. The

anger ebbed as he held the box up for Ty to see. “What is

this?”

Zane watched sadness roll over Ty’s face. “It was for you.”

Zane was breathing hard, trying to fight the veil of whiskey

to see through to the only man he’d thought he would ever

love. Without asking for permission, he flipped the box open.

Inside was a rectangular silver token. A rough anchor had

been etched into the face of it. Zane picked it up and dropped

the box to the floor. He could feel something on the other

side, but his eyes were fixed to the anchor.

“I had my ring from the cruise ship job melted down for

it. It’s a sobriety token.”

Zane looked up. Ty was sitting on the edge of the bed,

shoulders slumped, eyes on the floor.

“You told me one time that . . . I was your compass. I gave

you direction when you were lost,” Ty said, nearly choking on

the words. He glanced up, eyes reflecting like liquid in the low

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light. “Well, you were my anchor. You were something solid

for me to hold onto. I wanted you to remember that.”

Zane stared at him for a solid minute, trying to feel

something beyond the warmth of the whiskey, beyond the

reach of the anger. He had convinced himself the Ty Grady he

knew wasn’t the real one.

But what if it was? What if Zane was the only one who’d

seen the real man beneath all those layers?

He turned the token over in his hand. “I believe in you”

was etched on the other side. He balled it in his fist and tossed

it at the door with a mournful shout.

“You son of a bitch!” he shouted, stalking toward Ty. “I

trusted you!”

Ty stood to meet the assault. Zane grabbed him and kissed

him brutally, digging his fingers into Ty’s hair, slamming him

against the wall beside the bed. A moment later he shoved Ty

onto the bed and climbed over him, continuing the kiss in all

its angry glory.

“Zane,” Ty said, breathless. Whether it was from the

weight on top of him or the weight of his emotions, Zane

didn’t know and didn’t care.

“Shut up, Ty. Don’t fucking say my name.” He reached

between them, taking Ty in hand and squeezing. Ty gasped

and closed his eyes. It made it easier for Zane, not being forced

to look into Ty’s eyes.

He filled his palm with lube and stroked himself, using his

other hand to tug at Ty’s thigh. He leaned over him, biting at

his lip, yanking his leg higher, thrusting his hips, forcing Ty to

lift his other leg and let Zane settle on top of him. Ty’s entire

body was trembling.

“For once in your life,” he ground out against Ty’s lips. “Be

something honest for once in your life.”

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He pushed the head of his cock against Ty, waiting for

the gasp he knew was coming. The gust of air came against

his lips, the same one Ty always seemed to let out when Zane

first entered him. Zane bit down on Ty’s lip to turn that gasp

into one of pain, then shoved harder, breaching, pushing past

tight muscles.

He’d forgotten what it felt like to delve into the warmth of

someone else when all he felt was the cold calm of the alcohol

and the bite of unchecked anger. God, it was so good.

He gripped Ty’s hair to hold him still beneath Zane’s

weight as he inched in. It was agonizing to go so slowly when

all he wanted was to hear Ty cry out for mercy, to fuck him

until he could feel nothing but the simplicity of emptying

himself deep inside someone else, emptying all the pain and

anger into someone who was begging for more.

He pushed until he was completely sheathed, until Ty

was writhing beneath him, trembling against him. Ty’s breath

shivered over Zane’s lips.

“Come on, then, Garrett,” Ty whispered. “You want me

to feel used?”

“Yes,” Zane hissed. “I want you to hurt like I do.”

“Then do it.”

Zane smacked his hand over Ty’s mouth. He pulled

out and forced himself in again, lingering long enough to

appreciate the slow slide of his cock as he delved deep, to feel

Ty’s body jerk beneath his. Ty gasped against his hand. His

fingernails raked down Zane’s back. Zane reached under Ty’s

hips and pulled him off the bed, shoving deeper, forcing Ty

to contort.

Ty called out, the sound muffled by Zane’s hand.

Zane started up a brutal rhythm, holding Ty down, the

only sounds he heard were muffled and incoherent. His hips

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moved faster, harder, anger and anguish driving him, seeking

pleasure that only his body registered and his mind refused

to let him feel. He buried his face against Ty’s chest, pushing

harder, finally letting his hand fall away from Ty’s mouth so he

could lift Ty’s hips higher.

Ty gasped his name. It was a pleading sound, filled with

the same anguish Zane felt in every fiber of his being. Zane

smacked his palm over Ty’s mouth again.

“Don’t you say it,” he growled. “Don’t you dare say it.”

Ty’s hands grasped at his back, dragging, clawing at him.

His body writhed under Zane’s as Zane came inside him. As

Zane’s movements slowed, his world came crashing back to

him, everything black and white, everything made crystal

clear and magnified to a pinpoint by the whiskey coursing

through him. He moved his hand, and Ty gasped for air.

Zane pulled out of him, but he kissed him again, running

his fingers down Ty’s body to grip his cock. He was growing

harder as Zane handled him, his moans vibrating against

Zane’s lips.

“You need to get off?” Zane asked, his voice surprisingly

hoarse. Ty gasped. “Say it, say the words.”

“Garrett,” Ty tried.

Zane held him down and stroked him, riding out the

rhythm of Ty’s body seeking release. “Tell me what I want to

hear, Grady.”

Ty gripped Zane’s shoulders, pushing his cock into Zane’s

hand. “I need you,” he gasped.

The words tore through Zane with the precision of a

scalpel. He kissed Ty greedily one last time, pumping him

until Ty’s entire body trembled with impending release. Then

he let go and backed away from the bed, leaving Ty on the

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precipice without any stimulation to push him over. He

nodded toward the door as he met Ty’s eyes. “Go on. I’m

betting Nick’s fucking waiting for you with a nice warm bed.”

225

ane woke with a splitting headache, cotton in his

Z
mouth, and a back that burned like he’d been dragged

across gravel. He sat up carefully, waiting to see if his stomach

would rebel. His head pounded, but thankfully nothing else

protested.

He looked around the room with a growing frown. He

didn’t remember getting into bed. He didn’t remember

fal ing asleep. Pages and pages of old books were plastered to

the walls of his room. The same room Ty had been in. The

bed beside him was cold and obviously hadn’t been slept in.

His clothes were neatly folded and piled on the table, sitting

beside a bottle of whiskey and an empty glass. Zane stared

at the glass, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach finally

making him nauseous.

The night came back to him in a jumble of words and

smells, of demanding kisses and rough sex. The scratches on

his back were from Ty. He remembered shouting at him.

Telling him they were done. He remembered taking a swing

at him. Had he thrown a chair at him? Oh Jesus, what else had

he done? He knew he could be violent when he was drunk

and angry. His only comfort was knowing Ty would have

fought back, and from the bruise he could feel on his face, Ty

had done just that.

He carefully got out of bed and shuffled to the table

for his clothes. The glass wasn’t empty after all. It was full

of water, and two pills sat beside it. Zane’s stomach lurched

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again. Ty had left ibuprofen for the hangover he knew Zane

would have.

“Goddamn you, Ty.”

He got dressed quickly, downed the pills, and very

carefully avoided making eye contact with the label of that

bottle. He could hear the murmur of voices downstairs, and

he hustled to join them.

He stopped short at the head of the steps. He could hear

Ava speaking, but she was speaking over the murmur of male

voices. She wasn’t involved in the conversation the others were

having. She sounded like she was on the phone. He strained to

hear what she was saying, but he couldn’t make out the words.

She was speaking in hushed tones, and something about it

pinged Zane’s alarms. He searched all over the hal way, trying

to figure out where her voice was coming from. He finally

found a small air vent in the ceiling. Was she upstairs? Or was

she down? Was there even an upstairs?

Zane waited a few more seconds, trying to make out

anything she was saying. The conversation had stopped,

though. Zane ran a hand through his messy hair and took a

deep breath, trying to talk himself into going downstairs.

Flashes of last night were coming to him, and he wasn’t

sure he wanted to face Ty after what he’d said and done.

“We have to go on the offensive here,” Nick said as Zane

made his way down the steps. “It’s the only thing they won’t

expect.”

“How?” Owen asked.

“Ambush them,” Ty said. His low growl sent shivers up

Zane’s spine. “Set up a meet with bait. Scout out a meeting

place, take them out when they show themselves.”

“Just like that?” Kelly asked.

“Just like that.”

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Zane moved around the table to one of the empty chairs.

He sat opposite Ty and crossed his arms. Everyone was silent

and tense, glancing at Zane as if they expected him to blow

up like he had last night. Ty narrowed his eyes at him. Zane

had to avert his gaze, examining the tabletop instead. In the

periphery, he could see the remains of the barstool and table

he had destroyed, neatly swept into a corner.

If Zane had to guess, Ty had stayed up all night cleaning

up the mess.

Digger finally grunted to break the silence. “That’s all

great, in theory. But how do we contact them?”

Ty tore his attention away from Zane and gestured at

Liam. “Can you get in touch with them?”

Liam gave a curt nod. “Sure, Grady. I’ll just call them up

and explain to them the situation. That I fucked off on their

job because I found a pissed off Recon team instead of one

easy target. And then I’ll ask them what hotel they’re staying

at. Just for shits and giggles. It’s flawless.”

“All right,” Ty grunted.

“Flawless, I say.”

“All right! Do you know how to get in touch with them

or not?”

“You’ll get yourselves killed.”

“Do you really care if we do?” Nick asked.

“If you’re going to bugger off and get yourselves killed, it

might as well be me doing it so I can collect the bounties.”

Zane snorted. “Maybe if you’d help us, we wouldn’t be as

likely to die.”

“You’re pretty, Garrett, but my heart ain’t that soft. As

soon as you lot are gone, I’m out the door.”

“Always the hero,” Ty muttered.

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Ty and Liam shared a hateful glance before Ty pushed

away from the table and stood.

“So, let me get this straight,” Liam said, loud enough for

his words to be aimed at Ty. “You want to call up the crew

who wants you dead, tell them you’re the man they’re looking

for, and then lure them into a kill zone?”

Ty met Liam’s eyes. Then he sought out Zane for his

opinion. Zane stared at him, feeling sick. Ty had looked to

him still—not his former second-in-command, not one of the

men he’d known and worked with for decades. Zane’s mouth

was too dry to even swallow.

“Yeah,” Ty finally said.

“They think it’s one man they’re after. No way they’d

expect six,” Nick added.

“I have a bunch of ear buds, a few other things,” Digger

said. “Sniper rifle, a couple smoke canisters, Kevlar vest.”

Kelly leaned forward. “A Kevlar vest?”

Digger nodded.

“You travel with full assault gear?” Ty asked.

“You don’t?”

Everyone stared at him. Ty began to massage the bridge

of his nose.

Liam stood and smoothed his hands over the front of his

shirt, then walked away. “You’re all criminally insane.”

Nick rolled his head from side to side, working out the

kinks. Then he rapped his knuckles on the table to draw

everyone’s attention. “If we’re going to do this, we need to

know how many they have and find a location good for the

meet. And we need to do it fast. This place won’t be safe for

much longer.”

Zane finally tore his eyes away from Ty. “Taking care of

the cartel won’t get us out of New Orleans any easier. It’s the