Cut and Run 4 - Divide and Conquer

the air as he put his arms
    into the sleeves. “Do you need anything before I go?”
    Zane reached out to touch the chest of drawers in front of him. He
    might as well get dressed if Ty was going to be gone. “No, I don‟t
    guess so.”
    Ty‟s hands suddenly slid up Zane‟s sides, moving to hug him as
    Ty‟s chest pressed against his back. He was fully clothed—the soft
    material of Ty‟s Tom Ford suit was unmistakable. Zane could feel the
    knot of his tie, the telltale quality of the material. “The blue suit,” Zane
    murmured. Close fit that hugged his shoulders and body, blue wool,
    silk overcheck, broken herringbone pattern, single-breasted peak lapel.
    Ty looked incredible in it. As much as Ty loved to dress down—ratty
    T-shirts and busted-down jeans—he knew how to look good too.
    “Yeah?” Ty replied, lips moving against Zane‟s shoulder.
    “Your favorite. You like the material. Pants fit right. Slim fit in
    the jacket.” Zane lifted his hands to touch Ty‟s and slide up over the
    suit jacket sleeves to Ty‟s elbows. “Makes your eyes brighter,” he said
    before really thinking about it.
    “Is that so?”
    Zane ducked his head, glad Ty was behind him and not looking at
    his face.
    “I don‟t think anyone at the office is concerned about the
    brightness of my eyes. Except maybe that fucking PR guy. But thank
    you, all the same,” Ty tacked on slyly.
    “Yeah, well,” Zane murmured. That wasn‟t the kind of thing he
    said to Ty. It just wasn‟t. “I think I feel like an idiot now.”
    Ty squeezed him hard. “You feel pretty good to me,” he
    whispered. Then his hands were sliding off Zane and he was stepping
    away.
    Divide & Conquer | 131

    Zane swallowed hard as he lost touch with Ty‟s warmth and had
    to grasp for something to say. Ty was going to think he‟d lost his mind.
    “I think I‟ll go back to bed for a little while.”
    “Might be a good idea.” Ty‟s voice was moving away. “Get some
    sleep, Garrett. Call me if you need anything.”
    Zane listened to the front door shut firmly and sat down hard on
    the edge of the bed. He felt hot and goddamn tingly all over, and it
    wasn‟t from anything but what would probably qualify as sweet
    nothings on the open market. Flopping back on the bed, Zane rolled,
    pulled Ty‟s pillow under him, and buried his face in the sheets. It was
    time to do some serious thinking; he figured he might as well be as
    comfortable as possible to do it.

    “THANKS for coming in, Grady. You weren‟t injured, right?” Scott
    Alston asked.
    “Like you care,” Ty grunted at him. “Let‟s get this rolling, huh?”
    “Don‟t be a jerk,” Alston shot back. “We‟re all worried about
    Garrett, and there‟re others hurt too. Wilkinson‟s in the hospital with a
    compound fracture of her right leg, and three others are still there too.”
    Ty held up both hands in surrender, closing his eyes. “I‟m sorry.
    Sorry.”
    Alston sighed and sat down. “Yeah, well… it‟s been a shitty
    couple of days.” He shuffled through some papers. “All right. I need to
    bend your brain about both bombings, the ballfield and the boutiques.”
    “We talked about the alliteration, Scott,” Ty mumbled, not even
    managing a smile.
    Alston glared at him, then ignored the words. “So far we‟ve
    found only four agents who were in both places. That includes you and
    Garrett.”
    “Who are the other two?” Ty asked as he settled into the seat
    across from Alston. It was uncomfortable and too low, forcing him to
    look up at the other man. Classic psychological tactic to make someone
    132 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

    being interrogated feel inferior and uncomfortable. Fucking asshole
    Feds….
    “Waller and Carmichael, both from tech ops. They were on the
    street. As were you, right?”
    Ty sighed heavily and nodded. He spent the next hour telling
    Alston everything he‟d done, seen, felt, heard, and thought at both
    scenes, culminating in a ten-minute rant about his Bronco being melted
    and who the hell was going to pay to fix an old Bronco that was worth
    more as evidence than it was on the street and when the hell was he
    getting his Bronco back exactly?
    After Alston managed to quiet him down, Ty was forced to sit
    there in the uncomfortable chair for another fifteen minutes as Alston
    got papers together for him to sign. By the time the man returned, Ty
    was calm again, concentrating on breathing in, breathing out, making
    the fucking Om