Cut & Run (Cut & Run #1)(26)
Author: Abigail Roux

Zane tried to shift slightly, but stopped abruptly with a wince. “Fine,”

he answered quietly, staring at the wall as he tried to pull together enough strength to get up and get in the shower as soon as Ty was done cleaning him up. “Once you’re done, I’ll hop in the shower so we can get back to it,” he said. He figured Ty would be chomping at the bit soon, if he wasn’t already, and Zane really, really didn’t want to give the man another reason to razz him.

“I’d say you’ve earned the day off,” Ty replied as he came closer.

“Day off?” Zane echoed in surprise, craning his head to look at Ty and flinching as his neck pinched.

“Someone tried to maim you today, Zane,” Ty responded evenly.

“Probably me, too, but they didn’t know how lazy I am. That someone, in case it’s gone under your radar, has access to restricted Bureau areas in a federal building and was close enough to know when to detonate that bomb.

We pretty much confirmed Burnsie’s suspicions. I’m thinking spontaneously exploding federal property is a long way toward proof that this guy is a Fed.”

Zane set his forehead back against the pillow, straightening his neck to relieve the slicing ache. He’d noticed Ty had called him by his first name.

It sounded odd coming from his new partner. He sighed softly. “So it really is one of us,” he said sadly.

“At least he isn’t trying to kill us, yet,” Ty muttered and frowned as he glanced over Zane’s nearly nude, bloody body worriedly. “Unless you’d been sitting on the damn thing, a blast that small wouldn’t kill you. It was just enough to take you off the case.” He continued to stare at the man for a long, thoughtful moment. With a sigh, he decided to go all out and treat Zane like the partner he was going to have to be. For a minute, at least. “My room made me nervous,” he admitted.

Zane shifted his chin, and his slightly narrowed eyes tracked over to Ty. “Think someone was in there?” he asked. Zane knew Ty wouldn’t say something like that unless it was for real. One good thing about all that trash he talked was that you knew when he was serious.

“Could have been Housekeeping,” Ty hedged with a shrug. “Could have been me being paranoid ’cause I’m f**king covered in your blood. I didn’t see anything out of place. Just … felt it. Probably nothing. But I’m going to sleep here tonight, if you have no objections.”

Zane didn’t reply immediately. After a short pause he spoke quietly.

“I’ll warn you, I’m going to be grouchy as my back really starts hurting.”

“And I’ll be on the lookout for that major change of attitude,” Ty responded sarcastically.

Zane rolled his eyes and quashed the impulse to respond in kind.

“You probably ought to put stuff on my back after the shower instead of before,” he said regretfully instead, shifting slowly to climb to his knees.

“Do you need help?” Ty asked as he watched without moving.

Stopping once he was on his knees, Zane drew a shaky breath as the abused skin shifted and stretched. He cursed under his breath. “Is there glass on the floor?” he asked. “I’d really rather not walk in it.”

“Why don’t you stay there, and I’ll clean you off?” Ty answered.

“There’s no reason for you to have to get up. The bed’s already bloody.”

Zane turned his head to study Ty, wondering where this solicitous side had come from. Did he just bury it under so much attitude that you couldn’t normally notice? “I’m going to take you up on that offer,” he murmured, slowly shifting to stretch out sideways.

“Good,” Ty nodded with a slight smirk. “We’re making progress.

Now you know I’m always right,” he said over his shoulder as he headed into the bathroom to spread out the contents of his medical kit.

Zane sighed. He should have known Ty would have some kind of angle, the bastard. Zane reached for one of the pillows and pulled it over, stuffing it under his chest to lie on, his arms wrapped around it as he waited.

In his medical kit, Ty had iodine and gauze, a tin of Rawleigh’s salve, some tape and bandages, and in keeping with his always prepared mantra, a flask of peach-flavored moonshine all the way from home. None of it was worthy of being called a proper medical kit, but it got the job done. He extracted most of it and laid it out on the long counter. He filled the ice bucket with water, grabbed the stack of hand towels, and headed back out into the outer room. Zane was draped over the pillow, long, bare legs extended out over the bed.

Ty licked his lips and for the first time took a moment to really look at his new partner. It had been hidden under the suit, but there was no denying that he was impressively muscled, at least. And kind of hot, in a stuffed-shirt, stick-up-his-ass sort of way. When he wasn’t covered in blood.

He shrugged that thought off and moved closer, kneeling beside the bed and setting the water down next to him. “All I’ve got to disinfect with is iodine,” he told him as he looked up and examined the wounds. “Gonna burn.”

“Sure, what’s a little more pain?” Zane bit off tightly, squeezing the pillow tighter.

Ty was silent as he carefully wedged several towels under Zane’s body to catch the mess the water was going to make. “Takes a lot of strength to say no when you don’t have to,” he finally murmured as he began cleaning the blood with a moistened cloth. “I respect that, if that matters to you.”

Zane was quiet for a long minute as the cool rag wiped carefully over his back. “Thank you,” he finally said quietly. Wouldn’t a glass of whiskey or a handful of Vicodin be great right about now? Hell, even some ibuprofen.

Maybe he’d think a little more seriously about taking the ibuprofen. There were other things he said no to, as well … most of the time. Things he’d do better not to think about at all. Like the man behind him. Zane could feel the heat coming off him.

He fell silent for a bit before speaking again. His voice wasn’t self-deprecating or self-sympathetic; if anything it was a little cold and clinical.

“There’s a lot of things I say no to,” Zane murmured without thinking about Ty’s reaction. “But there’s certainly no one to care.”

“You saying you don’t care?” Ty asked curiously.

Sighing, Zane pressed his cheek to the pillow. “I do care. But it’s the bare minimum of motivation. Like I won’t pick up a bottle because I want to keep a job I love. That doesn’t necessarily translate to caring if I pickle my brains or not. I guess I’ve gotten a bit self-concerned since my youth.”