Touch&Geaux (35 page)

at his chest, doubling over.

“He’s having a heart attack, Shine,” Ty said, his voice low

and urgent. “Better get him out of here, Shine.”

Shine rounded on him, the knife clutched in his huge

hand. “I’m gonna make you bleed, Beaumont.”

“They’ll bury me right beside your daddy, bubba!”

Shine hesitated, and behind him, Gaudet was taking

deep breaths and clutching at his chest. He waved his hand at

Shine, as if telling him to go ahead and kill Ty. Shine held the

knife close to his body and gripped Ty’s shoulder, preparing

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to stick him, but Ty grabbed Shine’s biceps, locking his elbow

as Shine pushed forward. He gritted his teeth and put every

ounce of strength he had into keeping that knife at bay, but

he hadn’t managed to loosen his other arm, his feet were still

bound to the chair, and Shine was laughing at him, pushing

the tip inexorably closer to Ty’s chest.

He didn’t have to push forward to hurt Ty. He could

have sliced at Ty’s forearm to loosen his grip. He could have

wrenched away and come from behind to slit his throat.

He could have easily killed him in so many ways, but Shine

continued to push against him instead, forcing Ty to fight for

his life. Ty’s fingers worked frantically at the loose ropes on his

other wrist. With his feet tied, he couldn’t get any leverage.

Shine laughed. He was enjoying the slow march of death as

Ty lost the battle.

The knife touched the material of Ty’s shirt and he

shouted wordlessly, digging deep for more strength where he

knew he would find none. Fighting for his life against a man

who merely wanted to play with it.

The knife broke skin. Ty pushed back against the chair,

desperate for more inches. His life didn’t flash before his eyes.

His evil deeds didn’t come back to haunt him, nor did any of

the good he’d done revisit him. He didn’t find added strength

in thoughts of the future or memories of the past. He didn’t

see his family, or his teammates, or the faces of men he’d

comforted as they’d died. The only face he saw as the knife bit

into him was Zane’s.

“Ty?”

Ty cried out again. He didn’t know where Zane’s voice

had come from, but he pushed harder against Shine’s arm,

desperate to hear it again.

“Zane!”

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An engine revved somewhere close. Shine pulled back,

his head shooting up at the sound.

Gaudet had finally recovered from the rush of epinephrine

and adrenaline enough to hit Shine in the back. “Do him!”

The engine grew louder, drawing closer. Ty could hear it

both outside the thin walls and in his ear. The ear bud Shine

had missed was still there. It had been buzzing in Ty’s ear all

this time, and now it was picking up the roaring of an angry

motorcycle.

Ty craned his head and saw the rider through the dirty

front window, barreling toward the house through a field of

weeds and brush. It was an off-white cruiser with a hulking

rider sheathed in black leather and a skullcap-style helmet,

face covered with a pair of sunglasses and a black bandana

with a white skull printed on it.

Ty caught his breath, staring out the window as the rider

pointed a gun toward the house. Gaudet and Shine seemed

to be trying to decide between fight and flight. “Its rider was

named Death,” Ty told them, beginning to smile. Gunshots

shattered the hinges and panels of the rickety front door and

continued to rain down on the occupants of the room. “And

Hell followed with him!” Ty shouted as both men dove to the

floor, covering their heads.

Splinters and shards of bullets flew through the air. Shine

and his father both scrambled to the corners of the room,

covering themselves. Ty brought his hand up to shield his eyes

as the motorcycle burst through the ruined door, screaming

into the room and tearing up the floorboards and remnants

of carpet as it went. The rider put a foot down and caused the

back wheel of the motorcycle to slide around, chewing up the

wood and shooting shrapnel at the men cowering on the floor.

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Ty gaped at the reflective surface of the sunglasses. The

rider tossed him a small knife—Zane, it was Zane—and Ty

barely managed to overcome his shock to catch it. He sliced

through his ropes and struggled out of the chair. Zane held

his gun up and ejected the empty magazine onto the floor.

He’d used all his ammunition busting through the door and

had nothing left to finish the job.

Gaudet and Shine scrambled for their weapons. Ty lunged

forward, taking Zane’s hand and swinging onto the back of

the bike.

He held on tight and pressed his face into the man’s back

as the motorcycle took off and darted out of the house.

Gunshots chased them, but the motorcycle was too fast

for their pursuers. Ty’s grip tightened, his hand clutching at

the edges of the leather jacket, the same black leather jacket

he’d given Zane years ago.

They took several twists and turns through the ruin of the

neighborhood, then the bike slowed and Ty was able to lift his

head. Soon they reached an empty intersection, and Ty saw

the men of Sidewinder converging ahead.

The motorcycle pulled to a stop beside a nondescript

gray van and an old Cutlass sedan, where the other men were

gathered, armed and ready.

Ty rested his head against Zane’s back, breathing hard

and still shaking with adrenaline. He nodded at the others,

who simply stood there and grinned.

Zane reached up and pulled the bandana down. Ty tilted

sideways to pull Zane’s sunglasses off, then patted his cheek.

Zane nodded and turned his head away without saying a

word.

The others came closer, all of them grinning like fools.

“Wicked jailbreak, Garrett,” Nick said.

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“That was some shit right there,” Digger shouted, and he

held his fist up for Zane to bump it. Even Owen offered him

a slap on the shoulder.

Nick took Ty’s arm and helped him off the back of the

bike. “You okay?”

“Pretty much. Kelly?”

“In surgery. We don’t know anything, we had to leave

him.”Ty swallowed hard as relief flooded him. Behind Nick,

Liam stood with Ava near the van. She was tied up, a bandana

around her mouth to keep her quiet. Ty looked back at Nick.

“We were going to trade her for you if we had to. Zane

was searching when he heard you.”

Ty stepped away, turning to meet Zane’s eyes. Zane stared

at him, his face as impassive as the carved angels in St. Louis

Cemetery. Ty wanted to say so many things to him, but they

didn’t have time. And from Zane’s expression, he didn’t want

to hear them anyway.

Ty walked over to Liam and Ava instead. Ava flinched

from him when he reached up to take the bandana out of

her mouth, and Ty belatedly saw the bruise forming on her

cheekbone. “It’s okay,” he said.

She glared at him as he pulled the bandana down.

“Did you call him?” Ty asked, voice pitched low.

She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Before she could explain, Ty stuffed the bandana back in.

She thrashed her head, but Liam held her still as Ty tightened

it and silenced her. Then he turned on Liam, who grinned and

patted him on the shoulder.

“That bruise your handiwork?”

Liam rolled his eyes. “She grassed us out. And she may

still have got the doc killed. So don’t cry to me, Argentina, she

got what she deserved.”

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He moved to pass Ty, but Ty stopped him with a hand

on his chest. “We all get what we deserve,” Ty whispered in

his ear.

Liam cocked his head, mere inches from his face. Then

he sniffed and pushed past him. Ty took Ava by the arm and

pulled her with him, pointing in the direction of the house

he’d been held at. “Your daddy is that way. Start walking.”

Her dark eyes glared at him, but she jutted her chin out

and started off down the crumbling road without looking

back.“You sure that’s a good idea?” Nick asked.

Ty nodded. “Keeping her around would be like trying to

keep a raccoon in a cage. You’ll end up bloody. With rabies.”

Nick chuckled and climbed into the van. Ty looked to

Zane again, feeling his chest growing tighter. Liam stepped

up to Zane, breaking the eye contact between them before Ty

could say anything. He held up a hand, grasping Zane’s and

pul ing in closer to hug him. “You’ll do all right, mate! Bloody

hell!”Ty’s attention was still on Zane when Liam turned back

to him. Liam gave him a shove. “He deserves a bit more than

your usual rescue blowjob, yeah?”

Ty tore his eyes away from Zane.

Liam grinned widely. “You don’t give it to him, darling, I

sure as hell will.”

Ty swung at him before he’d thought it through, before it

registered that Liam’s words had made him angry. Possessive.

Jealous as hell. His punch didn’t land flush, though, because

Liam leaned away and blocked Ty’s hand. He wrapped Ty’s

arm up and twisted it, pul ing Ty sideways toward him.

Ty grunted and arched his back as Liam torqued his arm

and shoulder. Liam put his lips to Ty’s ear, and when he spoke

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it was in whispered Russian. “Now, now, darling, wouldn’t

want you getting hurt in a fight for a man you’ve already lost.”

Ty managed to land a jab to his midsection before Liam

shoved him away as if Ty were some untrained drunken

brawler.

Liam waved a hand at Zane. “Now give me back my

motorbike before I knock you off it.”

Zane sat in the passenger seat of the van as Digger drove.

He didn’t know where Sidewinder had found the various

vehicles they’d driven to the Ninth Ward, only that Owen

claimed they had “permanently borrowed” the van from the

rental place near the French Quarter. He didn’t care. His

mind was roiling now that they’d pulled off the rescue.

He kept seeing Ty tied down to that chair, at the mercy of

a large hunting knife wielded by an even larger man. He kept

hearing Ty’s desperate cry of “Zane!” ringing in his ears. He’d

forgotten all the anger, all the hurt and humiliation, forgiven

it in a heartbeat when he’d thought Ty might be taken from

him.But now it was all flooding back, and the way Ty stared at

him, his eyes flat and lifeless, his jaw set in a hard line, made

Zane cold all over. They couldn’t even say they were back at

square one, because now there was so much betrayal and anger

between them, Zane could feel the chasm widening.

Nick’s words echoed in Zane’s ears. What the hell kind of

person had Ty been that even Nick was afraid of him?

“Who’s got a phone?” Ty asked. He was sitting in the

middle of the bench seat, between Owen and Nick.

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Zane shifted in his seat to look back at him. “Who are

you cal ing?”

Ty cleared his throat, barely meeting Zane’s eyes. “Burns.

Even he can’t save my job now, but at least he can get us out.”

Zane locked eyes with him, knowing what that would

mean, knowing that a life without his job, without a purpose,

was one of Ty’s biggest fears. Nick’s warning echoed again.

What would Ty turn into without a purpose, without that

anchor? He nodded, though. It was their last resort.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Nick asked.

Ty’s jaw tightened. “This is out of hand.”

“But—”

“They blew a cat at me!” Ty shouted. “Someone give me

your phone!”

Zane handed his to Ty. “Put it on speaker,” he requested.

“You promise you won’t say anything to him?” Ty asked.

“Ty.”

“Swear to me, Garrett.”

“Fine, whatever, I pinky swear, just call him.”

“I feel like I missed an episode of a television show here,”

Owen said.

“Blew a cat at you?” Nick asked, though he sounded like

he didn’t really want the answer.

Ty muttered that he’d explain later and dialed Richard

Burns’s number. He pressed the speaker button and held the

phone out, leaning forward.

“Richard Burns.”

“It’s Grady.”

“Happy Easter, kiddo. How’s your dad?”

Ty closed his eyes. “I— I’ve gotten into something deep,

I need help.”

Burns was silent a few breaths. “Go on.”

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“I’m in New Orleans.”

“What?”

“Garrett’s with me. So are the Sidewinder boys.”

“What the hell, Tyler?”

“It’s worse. Liam Bell is here with a pink slip with our

names on it. The Vega cartel has sniffed us both out, and

someone somewhere told them we’d be here this weekend.”

They heard him moving, closing a door and coughing.

“How did anyone know you’d be there? Why are you there?”

“It was last minute, we didn’t even know we’d be here.”

“You have a mole, someone on you.”

“Yes sir, but that’s not my concern right now. The police

commander here has me pegged as a CI that gave him fits five