Cut and Run 7 - Touch and Geaux

up.

    “Jesus, Ty. I had no idea,” Nick murmured. “You hid your grief well.”
    Zane held tighter to Ty’s hand, but Ty shrugged off the sentiment. He took another swallow of beer. They’d all lost people they cared for. Chas Turner was no different, nor was Eli Sanchez. The losses never stopped hurting.
    “Eli hit me harder than the captain ever did,” Ty admitted. He squeezed Zane’s hand, glancing at his lover and offering him a sad smile. “But when I look back and wonder what moment really made me who I am, it’s him.”
    “He taught us just about every goddamned thing we know,” Nick muttered.
    Ty nodded and glanced at his lover again. Zane hadn’t said anything, but Ty knew he was processing. He’d probably come up in a week or a month or a year and want to discuss it. The thought made Ty’s smile grow warmer, and he brought Zane’s hand up to kiss his fingers.
    “Captain Turner was one badass mother, though,” Nick mused. “And now I understand why they called you Rook when we ran those missions.”
    “What did they call you?” Zane asked.
    “Ricochet.”
    “Why is that?”
    Nick shrugged, smiling enigmatically. “Couple lucky trick shots.”
    “Marine nicknames usually don’t have a lot of thought put into them,” Ty explained. “And they change all the damn time. Nick had like five. I went through about ten.”
    “Huh.” Zane glanced at Ty and smiled. “Rook, huh? I like that. It’s sexy.”
    Ty winced. It wasn’t a name anyone had called him in years. Possibly a decade. He liked the way it rolled off Zane’s tongue, but he didn’t like the echoes of the past that came with it.
    Zane leaned toward him, putting his lips to Ty’s ear. “I think I’ll stick with Bulldog.”
    Ty turned his head to capture a quick kiss.
    “Oh, stop,” Nick drawled. “I’m going into a diabetic coma over here.”
    “I find myself fascinated by it,” Kelly said as he stared at Ty. “I can’t even come up with an appropriate comparison.”
    “Stop trying,” Ty grunted. He brushed his thumb over Zane’s palm.
    They settled back to enjoy the silence of the night, something the Recon team had done so many times over the years. Silence was a commodity where they’d spent most of their time. They had learned to appreciate it. And Zane was a man who inherently knew the value of silence.
    Ty’s mind drifted over the many years they’d spent scratching and clawing their way through battle after battle. He and Nick had been together since the beginning, their promotions never more than a few months apart, their achievements linked in ways not many people understood.
    Sanchez had come next. He’d put in for Recon at the same time as Ty and Nick, and it hadn’t taken long for him to fall into step with them. The others hadn’t arrived until they’d moved up to Force Recon, and then the six of them had been inseparable until the day they’d gone home.
    And then Sanchez had come with Ty to the FBI.
    “I miss him too,” Nick said.
    Ty nodded and swallowed hard. Kelly sniffed.
    “It wasn’t your fault, you know,” Nick said.
    Ty took a deep breath, not surprised that Nick had known exactly what he’d been thinking. “He called me for help,” he whispered. “I didn’t answer it, and two days later he was dead.”
    “Ty,” Zane whispered. “Jesus, is that why you always answer your phone?”
    Ty nodded curtly.
    Zane’s hand tightened in his.
    “You wouldn’t have saved him, Six,” Nick murmured.
    Ty’s throat tightened and he looked away. He covered his mouth with his beer bottle and slumped further into his chair. Zane’s hand in his offered more consolation than their words, though.
    “Eli . . . he went out with his boots on,” Kelly said. He shook his head and took a drink. “That’s the only comfort there is in losing him.”
    “And you know what? Zane took care of it,” Nick added.
    Zane flinched, and he leaned forward to look at Nick. Nick raised his beer bottle in a salute.
    “That’s right,” Kelly said. “Zane handled that shit. Like a boss.”
    Zane barked a laugh. “Thanks. I think.”
    Ty gave Kelly an incredulous glance. “How long has he been drinking?”
    Nick shrugged. “Since we got here.”
    “He’s not climbing back down there.”
    “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘falling,’” Kelly muttered. “Falling.”
    Nick reached across Ty’s lap and tapped Zane on the knee. “We know how you handled it, Garrett. And to us, that