Cut and Run 7 - Touch and Geaux

from him. He glanced up, trying to stay calm, trying not to think of the things that could happen to Zane between now and 2 AM.
    Nick cursed as he checked the caller ID, walking away. “Good afternoon, Detective,” he answered with a wince. He turned to Ty. “Of course, any way we can help. When would you like us to come in?” His eyes widened and he waved at Ty. “You’re coming to the hotel?”
    He pointed to the phone and then to his feet. The detective was coming here to interview them again. “No, no, that’s fine. But I’m afraid Agent Garrett isn’t here right now, maybe we can delay it until he is.”
    Ty shoved his phone in his pocket and rushed to the bed to grab his jacket. He couldn’t be caught in the room. He glanced at the others, and they both waved him toward the door. Nick tapped his watch and held up five fingers: five minutes to get clear .
    Ty made a gesture to let them know he’d find them, then wrenched the door open, only to stop short when he found himself face-to-face with a man holding a phone to his ear and a badge, two uniformed policemen flanking him.
    “Son of a bitch,” Ty grunted.
    “Well, Tyler Beaumont,” the detective drawled. He shut his phone, and Nick cursed behind Ty. “I should have known you’d show up with a load of trouble and a couple fake badges.”

    “Wake up, darling, we’re wasting time here,” a voice said in the darkness.
    It was the same name Ty called him sometimes, but it wasn’t the same word. There was no drawl to it, no affectionate smirk in the voice. It was British, said with sarcasm and disdain.
    Zane forced his eyes open, wincing as light lanced through his brain. A blond man came into focus. He leaned over Zane, holding a penlight. He shined it in Zane’s eyes, and Zane groaned and turned his head away.
    “Wakey wakey,” Liam crooned.
    “Go to Hell,” Zane grunted.
    “No need to be testy, Zane. I’m here to help you.”
    Zane ignored the throbbing in the back of his head to glare at the man. “By bashing me in the head?”
    “Nothing less would have stopped you from going back in that pub and making a huge mistake.”
    Ty. Zane tried to sit up, but his hands and arms were tied down. He was stretched out on a concrete floor, trussed up with ropes around his ankles, knees, and wrists. Liam sat beside him on the ground. “What is this?” Zane growled.
    “Merely precautionary,” Liam said. Zane was already tired of the way he talked, all dark threat laced with that cheerful British accent. “Hear me out, and then I’ll let you go.”
    Zane didn’t trust that for a second, but as long as Liam was talking, Zane had a chance of slipping his ties and escaping.
    “You see, I know Tyler Grady. Quite well, to be frank, and he’s a danger to you. To everyone, really, but we can’t all be perfect.”
    “Tyler who?” Zane mumbled as he stared up at the ceiling.
    “Oh, that’s sweet. Still protecting him even after what he’s done.”
    Zane cut his eyes sideways.
    “That’s right, Zane. I know what happened. I knew before you did. And I know more. Do you care to hear?”
    “No.” He couldn’t stand the thought of hearing more of Ty’s sins, not from this source.
    Liam leaned closer, casually resting his elbow on Zane’s chest so he could look down into his eyes. “It’s okay. I understand. Ty broke my heart too. It’s a small but spectacular club. Welcome.”
    Zane licked his lips, trying to regulate his breathing, desperate to slow his heartbeat so the man wouldn’t feel it banging against his chest.
    “It’s not really his fault, it’s just how Ty works. He’s easy to fall for when he’s got that mask up. He makes you love him because he knows that’s the easiest way to get what he wants from you. You trust him, you see something worthwhile, something vulnerable in him, and you think you can help. Six months later, he has all your secrets, and he’s gone.”
    Zane was shaking his head as Liam spoke.
    Liam reached to pop the button on his shirt. “You’re lucky your heart was merely broken.”
    Zane’s eyes darted between Liam’s hand and his face, his mind whirring. Liam yanked another button loose, then another. He pulled his collar down to reveal two circular scars on his chest. Bullet wounds. He tapped one with a finger. “Courtesy of the love of your life.”
    Zane stared at the scar.
    “A .45 caliber MEUSOC pistol. Standard for Force Recon, you know. Back in the day.”
    “You’re