Cut & Run (Cut & Run #1)(27)
Author: Abigail Roux

“Nothing wrong with self-concern,” Ty said as he wiped one last time at Zane’s back, then set the cloth aside and reached for the iodine. “I could just do salve,” he offered as he looked at the iodine doubtfully.

“Compromise,” Zane said. “Put iodine on the worst ones so they won’t get infected. Salve on the rest ought to be fine.”

“All righty,” Ty rumbled, then he quickly spread iodine on the deeper gashes. “Why’d you drink?” he asked suddenly.

Zane’s shoulders tightened in response.

“Don’t have to answer,” Ty went on with a careless shrug. “Just curious.”

Zane pressed his lips together tightly. “My wife was killed in a car accident,” he said tonelessly. “I was across the country at the time. Had been for a month.”

Ty pursed his lips and continued with the iodine, his eyes drifting to the ring on Zane’s finger. “My condolences.”

Zane let out a pent-up breath. “I kind of got … a little out of control.

Clichéd, I know, but there it is.”

“Happens,” Ty responded with another emotionless shrug.

“So here I am; widower, alcoholic, addict, all-around ass**le turned squeaky clean by force of will, threat of jail, and sheer terror. I suppose it’s no wonder your ‘pansy-ass’ comments get in my craw,” Zane muttered.

“I wouldn’t think much of you if they didn’t,” Ty answered, frankly a little surprised at Zane’s self-description. “And we all have our sob stories.

Nothing to be ashamed over. Being a pansy-ass, that’s something to be ashamed over.”

“I’m not a real pansy-ass,” Zane objected. “I just act like one sometimes.”

That caused Ty to laugh. Hard. “If you say so, man,” he practically giggled after he’d gotten control of himself.

Zane thwapped his knuckles back against Ty’s ribs. Hard. “Asshole,”

he said, in a vaguely fond fashion.

“I’m not an ass**le,” Ty objected officiously. “I just act like one sometimes,” he added slyly.

Zane chuckled tiredly and laid his head back down. “I can live with that,” he murmured after a short pause.

“Oh yeah?” Ty asked in slight surprise.

Zane wondered why Ty sounded like he didn’t believe him. “Yeah,”

he said simply as he lay still under Ty’s hand, which was spreading some sort of awful-smelling salve over the myriad nicks and cuts. Now that he knew what to expect—mostly—from Ty, he could ignore the worst of it. “You got a problem with that?”

“Maybe,” Ty drawled with a smirk as he dipped more of the salve out onto Zane’s back.

Zane’s lips twitched. “Like what?”

“Give me a minute, I’ll think of something,” Ty answered as he finished up with the Rawleigh’s.

Zane’s expression was torn between a slight frown and an amused smile, and something glittered in his eyes for a change.

“There,” Ty huffed finally as he stood up and looked Zane’s back over. “Don’t roll over; you’ll never stop. That shit’s worse than Astroglide,”

he warned. “I might take a shower,” he added musingly as he looked down at his hands, still covered in blood and now salve that wouldn’t come off without serious scrubbing.

“Help yourself. My clothes should fit you if you don’t want to go back to your room,” Zane murmured, eyes tracking the other man.

Ty merely nodded, not admitting that he was hesitant to leave Zane alone. “Your clothes would fit me like a burlap sack. I brought my bag,” he muttered as he wiped his hands off on the towel at Zane’s side. “I’m going to go get you some ice first. I’ll be back,” he added as he picked up the key card to Zane’s room. He’d rather not leave the door open again.

“Hey, give me my gun, would you?” Zane asked as he shifted, only to wince as the skin pulled.

“Why, you planning on shooting me in the ass when I turn around?”

Ty asked sarcastically as he reached for the holster.

“Tempting, but you’d probably get off on it,” Zane said, holding out his hand.

“Maybe so,” Ty drawled again, grinning widely as he placed the gun in Zane’s hand.

Zane’s palm covered the gun, and his fingers curled firmly around Ty’s hand. His eyes had gone serious when he looked up at the other agent.

“Why did you help me?”

Ty looked down at their hands and then up at Zane with open confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked.

That certainly wasn’t the answer Zane expected. He figured he’d get yet another smartass remark. His face softened slightly, and he nodded slowly, letting go of Ty’s hand. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” Ty responded with a smirk. “Just don’t get your prissy ass hurt again.”

“Better watch it, Grady, I might get to thinking you’re taking a liking to my prissy ass,” Zane said, sliding the gun under the pillow.

“I’m sure I’d like parts of it,” Ty shot back as he headed for the door.

“Be right back.”

Zane grinned and pushed his face into the pillow to muffle his chuckle. Maybe Ty wasn’t quite so bad as he’d thought. Still an ass**le, though.

Ty was gone for perhaps five minutes, quickly filling the ice bucket and grabbing himself a drink from one of the machines. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, no matter how many times he assured himself that he was alone. When he returned to the room, his entire body was tense again.

Zane slid the gun in his hand back under the pillow once he saw Ty.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yup,” Ty answered succinctly as he set the ice down and reached for his bags. “How’s it feeling?”

“Annoying as hell,” Zane said frankly. “It’s not killing me, but I’m certainly feeling it. It’s not too bad if I don’t move a lot.”

“Well, I would suggest not moving, then,” Ty drawled as he set his bags on the other bed and began stripping off his clothing.

Zane just raised an eyebrow in wry acknowledgment, watching idly.

Ty yanked off his shirt and tossed it to the floor. He toed off his boots and kicked out of his jeans, sighing with the realization that they’d have to frequent a laundromat if they expected to stay smelling decent.