Cut & Run (Cut & Run #1)(101)
Author: Abigail Roux

“I always dream of the desert,” Ty muttered sulkily as he pressed his face against the mattress, refusing to be roused.

Zane’s lips drifted to the corner of Ty’s eye. “Why?” he murmured.

Ty twitched and turned to elbow Zane in the ribs. “That’s where I lived,” he grumbled.

Zane smoothed his hand over Ty’s arm in a soothing motion and turned his face to lay his cheek against Ty’s for a moment.

Ty sighed again and relaxed under the pressure of Zane’s body.

“You’re very high-maintenance,” he mumbled against the pillow.

Grinning, Zane curled his arm over Ty’s back and rubbed slowly over his hip. “Yeah, so I’ve been told.”

“Shut up,” Ty ordered.

Zane coasted his hand over Ty’s cheek and rolled away. “Sleep, oh cranky one.”

Ty groaned and rolled back onto his back. “Well f**k, Garrett, I’m awake now,” he muttered disconsolately.

“Sorry,” Zane murmured, letting his arm fall between them and looking down at Ty.

Ty looked up at him in irritation for a moment before letting the façade fall away and smiling slightly. “You’re a damn sight better to wake up to than what I usually do,” he admitted.

Zane smiled crookedly. “And what’s that?”

“You don’t really want to know, do you?” Ty asked dubiously.

“I already know about the woman who was screeching on the phone,”

Zane pointed out.

Ty cleared his throat and looked away, staring up at the ceiling with a frown. “Usually,” he finally said with a scowl, “I don’t wake up to anything.

So, I guess you’ll have to do.”

“Is there a compliment hidden in there somewhere?” Zane asked mildly.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Ty muttered with a small smirk.

Zane whapped Ty’s hip. “I don’t beg,” he asserted.

Ty jerked and laughed softly, turning slightly away in case Zane decided to smack him again. “I beg to differ,” he snickered.

Zane smacked him again, a little harder this time. “I can’t think of an instance. Not a legitimate one, anyway.”

“What’s an illegitimate reason to beg?” Ty asked as he continued laughing softly.

Zane’s hand stilled, as did his face. His eyes shifted across the room blankly. “They exist,” he said vaguely.

Ty narrowed his eyes up at his companion and then rolled them as he looked away. “Moody,” he accused as he sat back up again and stretched.

“Moody?” Zane’s face scrunched. “I was sort of thinking about the last time I begged for my life and could really have cared less. Just figured if I told you, I’d get the violins treatment again.”

“You were right. And that’s not an illegitimate reason, moron,” Ty told him as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed.

“I was referring to the ‘could really have cared less’ part, actually,”

Zane said, closing his eyes and letting his head lean back against the wall.

Ty sat with his back to Zane, looking at the opposite wall with his head cocked thoughtfully. “Fuck,” he commented with a slight shake of his head.

Zane opened his eyes and looked at Ty’s back. “Maybe later,” he said as he picked up the file folder again. “Told you I was f**ked up while we were apart.”

“Why not just let them kill you?” Ty asked. “Why beg at all?”

“Gut reflex, I guess,” Zane said quietly. “Didn’t really think about it, except that there was something I’d miss. Was scared, too. Being shot in the head doesn’t appeal too much.”

“It’d be quicker than a lot of other ways,” Ty pointed out as he turned around slightly and met Zane’s eyes. “I was always afraid of dying slow,” he said thoughtfully.

Zane’s mouth quirked. “I played that game, too.” He curled his hand into a fist as his fingers started twitching.

“What game?” Ty asked in confusion.

“Figuring out what will kill you slow and easy,” Zane said, opening his fist and rubbing his palm against his thigh. “Pain wasn’t a consideration.”

Ty stared at him for a long moment. “Why’d you want to go slow?”

he finally asked.

Zane’s mouth quirked. “So I could enjoy it.”

Ty raised one expressive eyebrow. He licked his lips and looked away. “My daddy used to mind the mines when I was little,” he said suddenly.

“I used to dream that I was stuck down there. I wouldn’t mind freezing to death,” he claimed abruptly. “Going numb and then going to sleep. But I think I’d want it quick. I got too much to look back on and regret to want time to ponder it all.” He glanced back at Zane. “Just another thing we don’t have in common.”

“Regrets? Maybe. Sometimes I think I deserve all the shit I went through. Did it to myself,” Zane said. He met Ty’s eyes. “I would think you wouldn’t agree. You don’t seem the type to self-flagellate.”

“Let’s pretend I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ty responded with a ghost of a smile. His regrets were one thing he did not plan on going over with Zane any time soon. Or ever.

Zane nodded slowly. “All right,” he murmured. It was obviously a topic to avoid. “So you’re saying you think I don’t have regrets?”

“No. Just commenting on the fact that you’d rather have time to linger over them at the end,” Ty corrected. “This is a morbid conversation. What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked in a huff as he rubbed his hands through his hair.

“Me?” Zane asked in disbelief. “I didn’t say I wanted to linger over anything. Just that if I have to die, I want to enjoy it.” He shrugged slightly.

“You don’t have enough focus to ponder much of anything hopped on heroin.

That’s the allure.” His hand twitched again.

Ty sighed and looked away again with a shake of his head. “How long ago was it?” he asked tiredly.

“How long ago was what?”

“The heroin?” Ty asked curtly as he glanced back over his shoulder.

“Four and a half, maybe five weeks, I guess,” Zane answered.

“So I’m to assume it wasn’t a constant thing?” Ty asked tightly.

“Since you’re not screaming in pain from the withdrawal, I mean?”