Cut and Run 7 - Touch and Geaux

if you want to, but that doesn’t change the fact that I love you. And I’m not going to sit idly by while you do this to yourself because of me.”
    Zane glared, but the pain in the pit of his stomach was overpowering the anger. He looked back to the glass, still full of whiskey.
    Ty reached out and slammed something onto the table. When he moved his hand, Zane’s one year sobriety chip remained.
    Zane stared at it, then transferred his glare to Ty. “You think I need that?”
    Ty shrugged, looking pointedly at the glass.
    “I really am that weak to you, aren’t I?
    Ty’s eyes were steady and dark as they stared at each other, neither man flinching. “You’re not weak, Zane,” Ty said. “But we all need help sometimes.”
    “And now you need my help, right? To deal with this Liam Bell guy, this guy from your past you were never going to tell me about. It’s okay to lie to me, keep things from me, but when you need a spare gun, oh, go pick Zane up at the bar.”
    “Don’t sulk, it doesn’t suit you.”
    “Fuck you, Ty.”
    Ty snorted and finally looked away. “Will you come back with me? Help us figure this shit out?”
    “You’re not on the first plane home anymore?” Ty shook his head. “You’re going to make a stand here?”
    “Here we’re all together. We know where he is. He’s lost the element of surprise and we have the stronger force.”
    Zane nodded. “Fine.”
    Ty gave a curt nod and pushed his chair back to stand.
    “On one condition,” Zane added.
    Ty sat back, resigned.
    “Tell me everything. You’re hiding something, something big, and I want to know what it is. And if you tell me it’s classified, I will smash this glass into your face. And then I’ll be on the first plane home.”
    Ty remained motionless, not even blinking. Zane had to fight to meet his stare. He rarely saw Ty so still. The last time had been in a blizzard, when Ty had denied ever being in Paris when he damn well had been.
    It was Ty’s only tell. He stopped moving when he lied.
    “You’re really going to force this out of me?” Ty snarled after a few more seconds.
    Zane gave a single nod.
    Ty sat forward, staring at the tabletop. He took a long, deep breath. “Okay,” he whispered, losing the hard edge to his voice. He looked up at Zane, his eyes dark in the low light. His nerves must’ve been contagious, because Zane’s stomach was churning. “After the Tri-State case, after you were pulled from Miami, Richard Burns assigned me as your partner so I could protect you.”
    Zane narrowed his eyes. “What?”
    Ty rolled his shoulders, pulling one hand below the table. Zane knew he was rubbing his palm across his thigh to dispel the urge to fidget, but he also knew Ty had a gun under there, and Ty’s hand always hovered near his gun when he was scared.
    “The Vega cartel,” Ty said.
    Zane straightened. “How did you know I was under with them? Have you read my file?”
    “No. It was given to me as part of my briefing, but I didn’t read it.”
    “Your briefing. What are you talking about?”
    “Zane . . . for the last year and a half, you have been my assignment.”
    The world seemed to slow around them. Sounds faded. The pangs in Zane’s chest were the labored beating of his heart as he tried to absorb what Ty was telling him.
    “You’re . . . you’re, what, on guard duty? You’re my personal protection detail, complete with free blowjobs?”
    “Stop it,” Ty snarled. “The Vega cartel found out they had a UC working within them. You got pulled before they could get to you. They’ve had feelers out all over the agency ever since. They know what you looked like. If they found out your identity or location, they’d come for you, and they’d come hard. Almost every time Burns has called me for a job, it’s been to head them off.”
    “Oh my God,” Zane gasped. “You’re the one who’s been wreaking havoc in Miami.”
    Ty lifted his head, his expression guarded.
    Zane couldn’t breathe. “I’ve been following the reports. Someone’s taking out Vega people left and right, no one knows who it is or why. Even the Bureau is after this guy. But it’s you.”
    “Yeah,” Ty whispered.
    “Jesus.”
    Zane tried to get a handle on that, the image of Ty sneaking off to Miami, hunting people down, terrorizing the lower rungs of the cartel, leaving mangled bodies behind, forcing men on their knees and putting bullets in their heads to leave dread and suspicion in his wake. The