Cut and Run 3 - Fish and Chips

That explained where those fuckers had been the entire time. They’d been ferreted out by Dolce and Gabbana, who had thought they were after Corbin and Del when they’d spotted the members of the team sticking too close to Ty and Zane. How they’d expected to keep their jobs, stay out of jail, and avoid an international incident by abducting and illegally detaining American federal agents, Ty didn’t know.
    Cruises in international waters did weird shit to people.
    The Bianchis had returned to Italy with the Guardia di Finanza. Bianchi was reportedly cooperating with the Guardia to recover antiquities in exchange for leniency and immunity for Norina, who really hadn’t been involved in the business except on the periphery.
    Ty did regret how that had ended. He’d liked the Italian woman and had felt almost guilty for lying to her.
    For her part, Norina hadn’t forgiven Ty for destroying her shoes and her handbag, but she had requested a message be sent to Ty and Zane, one that thanked them for saving her and her husband’s lives. The note was in the dossier, written in English so Ty could actually read it.
    He snorted and smiled slightly.
    “So,” Alston said, interrupting his line of thought. Ty looked up at him. “Was it a king-size bed?”
    “It was round,” Ty answered drolly. “And if the cat jokes are going to be replaced with gay jokes, just let it be known that I don’t find those funny,” he added seriously.
    Alston’s smirk faded, and he nodded, recognizing that Ty wasn’t messing around.
    The sound of metal grating on metal had accompanied his words, and Ty glanced over to see the silver band finally being pulled off his aching finger. The sight of the sliced ring and the impression it left on his skin was more painful than he’d anticipated.
    “Thank you,” he muttered to the tech. The man nodded and handed him the wedding band. Ty palmed it and slid it into his pocket, glad McCoy didn’t demand he give it back.
    The interview went on for another hour or so, the questions mundane and steering far clear of anything that could have been embarrassing or damaging. Ty’s attention was only half there, though. The other half was on Zane and the ring burning a hole through Ty’s pocket.
     
     
    Z ANE forced himself to pay attention to the congested holiday traffic. He was behind schedule, but at this point all he could do was drive. He drummed his thumb on the steering wheel and glanced in the rearview mirror.
    He looked like himself again. His trimmed brown hair lay naturally without gel, and the earring was gone, though Zane had caught himself looking for the ruby stone a few times during the past week. Not his style, though. He wore his own tailored gray suit, a crisp white dress shirt, and a red and silver silk tie. All nice, but not pricey like Corbin Porter’s extravagant wardrobe. Under the suit, the tattoo was now fading. Zane had considered having it actually inked, but then he’d thought about what Ty would say and abandoned the idea. It wasn’t really his style either.
    Zane had removed the last vestige of his fake persona four days after they returned from the cruise — this afternoon, actually. He was so accustomed to wearing a wedding ring that he simply hadn’t thought about removing the silver one provided for the case until he’d been washing spaghetti sauce off his fingers after lunch and noticed the ring was the wrong color.
    He had stood there at the sink looking at the ring for several minutes, the water running, memories of the cruise cascading through his mind. But it wasn’t the casework and danger Zane remembered. It was the quiet time he and Ty had spent sitting together, relaxing. The heady, sultry sexual tension thrumming between them that they both not only allowed but fed. The laughter and the dancing and the banter and just being together.
    With all that on his mind, it had felt odd—wrong, somehow—to remove the ring that connected him to Ty.
    After drying his hands, he took the ring to the bedroom and the wooden keepsake box on his dresser. He opened the top with a soft snap of the magnetic clasp and saw his gold wedding ring inside, with all its dings and scratches. Zane slowly set the nearly pristine silver ring next to it before sliding his fingertips over the gold ring.
    When he thought about Becky, it was more difficult to call her face to mind, and when he did, it was dim and fuzzy around the edges, faded with time. It had been more than