Cut and Run 2 - Sticks and Stones

voice that was confident, if a little sad.
    Burns could see clearly that Ty had anguished over this decision. His heart went out to the kid, and he wondered what had happened to precipitate this sort of decision. Was it what had happened on the mountain or had this been a long time in coming? Either way, Ty had lasted longer than Burns had ever expected.
    He found himself nodding. “Care to share the reason?” he asked. Ty blinked at him, the only change to his expression as he sat stiffly in the seat across from Burns. Burns cocked his head sympathetically. “Would you tell me as a friend, rather than your boss?” he asked softly.
    Ty lowered his head, linking his fingers together. “It’s nothing… bad,” he assured Burns finally. “There’re just some things I need to take care of—personal things—before I give any more of my time,” he explained, looking up to meet Burns’ eyes from under lowered brows.
    Burns found himself nodding again, realizing that he’d grant any request Ty made right now. He looked determined, if nothing else, and Burns wondered what could have finally found a place in Ty’s life that he put ahead of his job. Burns would never have thought it possible. He hoped Ty wasn’t lying to him and that it really was something good, rather than something that had happened on that mountain.
    “Thank you, sir,” Ty murmured as he stood again.
    Burns stood with him, coming around the desk to walk him to the door. “Ty,” Burns said worriedly as he reached out and took Ty’s shoulder to stop him. “I heard about what happened,” he said with a deep frown.
    Ty nodded, meeting Burns’ eyes apprehensively. “Dad told you?” he asked.
    “He did. You did well, son,” Burns told him sincerely. “You made us both proud.” Ty merely nodded again, swallowing hard and turning away. “He told me what he said to you up there,” Burns told him unflinchingly.
    Ty froze, his fingers gripping the handle of the door until his knuckles turned white. He turned slightly, his head still bowed. He looked as if he might want to say something, but Burns realized with an ache deep in his chest that Ty wasn’t capable of speaking as he tried to regain control of his emotions. Ty and Deuce were the sons he’d never had, and it pained him to see one of them struggling like this.
    “You’re no coward, Beaumont, and your daddy knows that better than anyone,” Burns told him softly. Ty bowed his head and closed his eyes. Burns fought the impulse to pull him into a hug.
    “Sticks and stones, sir,” Ty finally managed to respond. He raised his head again, nodding at Burns. While he looked resigned, he actually smiled before turning and leaving the office. “But words will never hurt me,” he recited in a singsong voice as he walked away.
    Burns stood in the office door, watching him go with a small smile. Ty was truly a resilient man. He enjoyed life too much to let anything get him down for long.
    Burns remembered suddenly that he hadn’t told Ty about the reassignment he had for them. Ty would be ecstatic to hear that Zane Garrett was already settling into a new Baltimore apartment and that the Gummi worms he’d hidden in his old desk in the Baltimore field office had been located and cleared out in anticipation of his return.
    “Grady,” Burns called, gesturing for Ty to come back. He smiled widely, causing Ty to raise an eyebrow warily as he stopped in the doorway that led out of the front office. “I almost forgot. I have some good news,” he said, gesturing him to return and slapping him on the back as he directed him to sit back down.

    S TACKING another empty box off to the side of the couch, Zane looked around at his progress. Not that he had all that much to unpack—he’d gotten rid of more stuff over the past few years than he’d acquired. So it was mostly books, not knickknacks or pictures. It wasn’t cozy or decorated, but it was home now.
    His new apartment in Baltimore was a ground level walk-up with a back door, which he liked. He always liked back doors. There was enough room out on the back porch for a small grill too, and he thought he might enjoy doing something that mundane for a change.
    Zane hummed slightly and slid the last of the books onto the shelf, and his fingers lingered on the volume of Edgar Allen Poe stories before he headed to the kitchen for a drink.
    A knock at the front door stopped him. Frowning, Zane turned to look at the door before glancing at