Cut and Run 4 - Divide and Conquer

baseball jersey with the word “Feds” written in cursive
    across the chest, and he was covered in red dirt almost from head to
    toe. The number twelve and the name “Bulldog” were stitched on the
    back where his last name should have been. The jersey had come
    untucked from a pair of gray baseball pants, revealing a dark blue
    Under Armour shirt that hugged Ty‟s torso.
    When Zane stopped at his side, he turned his head and gave Zane
    a sheepish smile. “Hey,” he greeted.
    After looking Ty up and down, Zane smiled. “How you feeling?”
    “Had better nights.” Ty‟s words were slow and careful. Then he
    held up his right hand, which was wrapped up in white athletic tape.
    His pinkie finger was almost indiscernible. He held a disposable ice
    pack in the other hand, pressing it to his ribs. “Got run over by a
    fireman.”
    Zane couldn‟t help but laugh.
    An EMT wrapped up in a heavy jacket nodded solemnly. “I‟m
    shocked he remembers it.”
    “You hush,” Ty grunted at her.
    46 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

    “Can he leave?”
    “I‟ve done all I can do for him,” she answered with a nod and a
    pat to Ty‟s shoulder.
    “C‟mon, your chariot has arrived,” Zane said, stepping back and
    waving the way to his truck. “Did you get the truck‟s number?”
    “What truck?” Ty asked as he slid carefully from the ambulance
    and trudged around it. He wasn‟t entirely steady as he stepped past
    Zane; his cleats dragged through the gravel. He seemed to be moving
    on autopilot as Zane steered him to the passenger seat.
    Zane helped him in, pushed the door shut, walked around to the
    driver‟s side, and climbed in. “The fireman‟s truck.”
    “He didn‟t use a truck,” Ty answered with all sincerity. “His
    jersey says he‟s Tank. I got jacked, man. Dude picked me up and threw
    me down. Gave me Vicodin,” he told Zane with a deep frown, not
    appearing to notice his thought processes hopping around.
    “What‟d you do? Break it?” Zane asked, reaching out to try to
    catch the flailing hand that was all wrapped up.
    “They told me what was bruised and cracked. Dislocated finger,
    maybe a cracked rib. I tried to listen, but the EMT had this….” Ty put
    his hand up near his throat and seemed to search for the right word, his
    hazel eyes not quite focused. “Really low-cut… I got distracted.”
    Zane pressed his lips together to keep back the smile.
    “And they counted the run! I had him out at the plate, though. I
    held onto the ball. Well, it stayed in my glove, anyway. Glove got
    knocked off. Should have been like half a run.”
    “That‟s terrible,” Zane murmured as he looked at the mess of tape
    that practically cocooned Ty‟s hand.
    “It is terrible, Zane! We were only up by one!”
    Zane chuckled as he got the truck moving. “Put your seatbelt on,”
    he reminded. “It‟s a good half-hour ride to your place.”
    Ty nodded and buckled with difficulty. “Were you busy?”
    Divide & Conquer | 47

    “No, it‟s fine,” Zane said, glancing at Ty as he drove. “I was just
    working on casefile details. Slow night.” He didn‟t mention he‟d
    merely been passing time waiting for Ty to get home and call him to
    come over. The softball season had been going strong for two weeks
    now. Zane would have gone to watch the games, but he‟d been trapped
    by the latest PR events for Baltimore business professionals. He
    wrinkled his nose. Yet one more work commitment keeping him and
    Ty apart. He truly resented not being able to watch Ty in action.
    “Can you stay with me?” Ty asked, his brow furrowing
    worriedly.
    “Of course I can.”
    “I can‟t be alone when I take these things,” Ty told him, waving a
    small paper packet Zane assumed contained pills of some kind.
    Zane frowned, feeling a twinge of worry. “Why not? Besides the
    whole falling-over-loopy thing.” Ty‟s reactions to drugs ranged from
    hysterically funny to frighteningly horrific, and Zane wasn‟t taking any
    chances. He hated to say he enjoyed Ty when he was drugged, because
    it usually made his partner sick. But before that he was like a big teddy
    bear, warm and open and steadfast and sweet.
    “Well, that and sometimes I… quit breathing,” Ty explained in an
    offhand manner as he looked out the truck‟s window.
    Zane went absolutely cold and gripped the steering wheel so hard
    his knuckles turned white. “What?” he asked, tone rising and sharp
    with surprise.
    “Just a little, like