Chapter Nine

The low whir of the air conditioner was the only sound in the well-soundproofed room. There were no crying babies or shouting couples to be heard. The lights had all been turned out, and the drapes were closed against the morning sunlight, allowing only the faintest light to appear around the corners of the heavy fabric. Two bodies sprawled on the king-size bed.

Ty groaned softly and rolled over, burying his head under his pillow to drown out the filtered light. He jerked and pulled his head back with a gasp of pain as the pillow hit the throbbing knot on the back of his head. Suddenly hyper-alert, he pushed up onto his elbows and looked around the room in a near panic, trying to remember where he was.

Eyes blinking open as the bed tossed, Zane pushed himself up slightly. "Ty, it's okay," he said sleepily. "We're at the hotel."

"Fuck,"Tygroanedashisheadwhirledunpleasantly. Hepushedup onto his hands and knees and closed his eyes, then began crawling clumsily to the edge of the bed.

Zanesatuptowatchhimmove.Hehopedtheothermandidn'tfall off the edge of the bed and hit his head again. Zane winced at the thought. But Ty made it off the bed cleanlyand staggeredinto the bathroom,barely making it to the toilet before he was retching violently.

Zane sighed andrubbed hisface.Hewasscrewed. With the concussion,Tymighthavebeensicklikethat.ButinZane'sexperienceit didn'thityousosuddenly. Unlesshewassensitive todrugs.Shit.AndZane hadgiven himalot.Hedragged himself upandpulled onhisjeans. This wasn't going to be pretty; he could feel it in his bones.

Ty was on his knees on the expensive tile, head hanging as he panted for breath. As soon as he'd moved quickly after waking so suddenly, his stomach had turned, and he'd known he was going to lose last night's miniscule dinner. As he slumped miserably in front of the toilet, he knew that most likely there was more to this than the concussion. Zane had given him something—probably something to get him to sleep so he could go off on his own and do God knew what. His head hanging in the toilet this morning pretty much confirmed that. Ty had never handled any sort of chemicals well. Even too much Tylenol had a tendency to make him queasy.

Assoon ashewassure hewouldn't fallover, hepulled himself tohis feetandgrabbed thesink counter, holding onto itashesplashed hisfacewith water.

In the outer room, Zane's face was grim. They had a lot to do today, including finding out who had tried to kill them. Again. Deciding not to wait, he started getting dressed. He pulled a T-shirt over his head. He wished briefly for a less shitty start to the morning, but he supposed he only had himself to blame. Shrugging into the holster, he dismissed it. He was here to work, not get touchy-feely or indulge himself—and he'd already gone over the line with Ty too many times.

"You fuck-shit!"Ty called hoarsely from the bathroom.

Zanesnorted.Itwasaboutwhathehadexpectedtohear.Slightly more creative.

"What did you give me?" Ty demanded angrily.

Zane's lips twitched. "Diphenhydramine hydrochloride," he answered,pulling socks and a long-sleevedbutton-upout of his duffel.

"Fucking Benadryl? Whatthehell,man?" Tyaskedinahoarse, incredulous voice."Wereyoutryingtoputmeinacoma?"heaskedangrily. "How much did you give me?"

"Just three capsules," Zane answered flatly.

ForTy,threecapsuleswasdamnnearanoverdose.Christ,hewould betwitching forweeksafterthis.Heclosedhiseyesandsnorted likeabull preparingtocharge,tryingtocalmhimself."Didyougetourthings?"he asked in a barely controlledvoice.

Zaneappearedinthedoorway,pullingonhisholsteroverhisshirt, andthenstoodtherelooking athim foralongmoment. "No,"hesaidshortly before walking out to the main room.

"Get your ass back here," Ty snarled at him as he left.

Ignoring him,Zanestopped atthelowtableinfront ofthecouch and started fillinghispockets. Wallet, keys,paperwithphonenumbers, Holiday Inn key card.

Ty turned and followed unsteadily, furious again. Zane had no fucking right to be pissed off. He watched him, waiting for him to turn around again.

Zaneknew Tywasbehind him.Healsoknew Tywasangry, butso washe.Hewished Tyhadn't gothurt, because Ty's attitude being soreduced botheredhimquiteabit.Hewishednowhe'dgoneaheadtothehotel.He might as well have had their things if Ty was going to be utterly pissed at him. Zane turned around and looked at him, waiting.

Tymethiseyes,nostrils flaring ashetried tokeepcalm.Hehad actually trusted the fucker. Even something as small as being slipped BenadrylinhisCokewasahugedealtosomeonewhowasaccustomedto havinghislifeonthelineeveryday.Itwastakingamassiveeffortnotto overreact,and it was making his head hurt.

WhathurtthemostwasthathestillhadtoworkwithZane—andtry totrusthim—even afterthisshit.Hetookaslow,deepbreath."Tellmeyou won't doitagain,"herequested afteralongmoment ofsilence,hisvoice finally calm again.

Raisingabrowslowly,Zaneconsidered. Thatwasn'twhathe'd expected. He'dfigured Tywould blasthimoreventakeaswingathim.But wouldZanedosehispartner again? Knowing whathedidnowabout howTy would react physically, there was only one logical answer. "All right," he said slowly. "I won't do it again."

Ty was silent, waiting for more, for an apology of some sort.

"I'mgoingdownstairs togetussomecoffeeandbreakfast," Zane added. With that he turned and left the room, door snapping shut behind him.

Tywasleftstanding inthemiddle oftheroom,confused byZane's angerandfeeling betrayed bysomeone hehadn't known he'dcompletely trusted.

Zanewasbackintwentyminutes,awhitebagoffoodinonehand andacarafeofcoffee intheother. Hepulled outthe keycardandopened the door, making sure itshut firmly behind him. Tywasn't immediately visible in thesuite.Abriefsurvey ofalltherooms produced nothing. Oncloser inspection, however, the Ty-shaped lump under the covers in the bed said that his partner had given up the fight and crawled back under his pillow.

Settingthebagandcarafeonthetable,Zanefeltanotherflareof anger. WhythehellwasTydoing this?Should hetakehim backtothe hospital?Zanedidn'tfigureaminorconcussion wouldkeepaformerRecon Marinedown,hencethesleepaid.HewasstartingtothinkTywasseriously hurt,inwhichcasedrugging himhadbeenaverybadidea.Theangerebbed briefly,butitwasimmediately replaced withworry, andthenanother flareof irrational anger.

Pressinghislipstogether,hewalkedthroughtothebedroomand stood atthe side of the bed with his hands on his hips. "Ty, are you getting up or not?"

"Go fuck yourself,"came the muffled, groggy reply.

"I'm notthatflexible," Zanemuttered. "Youknow,Ireallydidn't thinkaconcussion wouldkeepyoudown.WhyelsewouldItrytogetyouto sleep andsleep well? It's been two times thisasshole hasgotten close enough to hurt us. You can't be out of commissionand vulnerable."

"GoodthingI'mnotthetypetodrugmyselfforsleep,then,"Ty's disembodiedvoice respondedicily from under the pillows.

"Ididn't drug myself, now didI?"Zanesaid justascoldly. "Getyour ass up or I'm going without you."

"Why thefuck areyou pissed off?" Tyasked inanangry, slightly slurredvoiceashesatupwithout firstremoving thepillow.Itflopped melodramaticallytothefloor,andTyglaredatZanewithnarrowedeyes. "Just tell me that. Why are you pissed at me?"

Zanepinched thebridge ofhisnose."I'm notangry atyou,"hesaid, voice tautwith repressed tension. "I'm angrythat yougot hurt sobad, okay?" Hegrittedhisteeth.Whatafuckinguselessthingtohavetosay.Herecame the pansy-ass commentsagain.

ButTywassilent,glowering petulantly foramoment before relaxing alittle."Well,stoptakingitoutonme,allright?"hefinallymumbled. "I've got a fucking headache."

Sighing, Zanesatdownontheedgeofthebednexttohim."I'm sorry," hesaidquietly. Hecouldsaymore,butitwouldn't makeabitof difference.

"You're damn right you are," Ty muttered.

"How do you feel?" Zane asked softly. "Really?"

"Idon't . . . Idon't reallyremember much from lastnight and yesterday,"Ty admitted, his voice low. "And some further back from that."

"Yeah, Iguess youhityour head pretty hard," Zane said. "Soyou don'trememberstreakingthroughtheroomanddancingonthebed?"he asked solemnly.

"Shut up," Ty shot back with little feeling.

Zanesighed,reachingtopushTy'shairawayfromhiseyes.Ty's eyes closed automatically,and he leaned into the touch unconsciously."I'll do anything Icantohelpyoufeelbetter," Zaneoffered softly."Thatdoesn't include drugs, I promise."

"Ugh," Ty offered as he rubbed at his eyes.

Thevibrating ofTy'scellphoneonthetablebesidethebedcaused him tojerk and jump, then groan plaintively asheslowly laid hishead back down and held it in his hands to keep it from spinning.

ZanerubbedTy'sshouldersoothingly andpickedupthephone, snapping it open. "Yeah?" he asked quietly.

"Grady?" the voice on the other end inquired doubtfully.

"No.Whoisthis?"Zaneasked.Hisvoicewaslowandemotionless. Tohim,anyonewasasuspectnow.Anyonebutthemanpracticallyinhis arms.

"Whothefuckisthis?"thevoicedemanded inoutrage."Wherethe hell is Ty?"

"Not available. You can talk to me," Zane answered,his voice flat.

Therewassilenceontheotherendoftheline.Finally,thevoice asked in a low tone, "Is he hurt? Did he get hurt?"

Zane's brow furrowed, andhelooked down atTy,considering. "He's okay," he said noncommittally,but his voice wasn't as hard.

TyturnedhisheadandlookedupatZanewithnarrowedeyes."Who isit?"heasked asthesilenceontheother endofthelinestretched ononce more. Zane held outthephone, andTy took itwith afrown, sitting back up slowly.

"Hello?"hesaidintothephoneassoonashehadittohisear.He listened foralongminute,theshouting ontheotherendofthelineloud enough thatZanecouldhearit,andfinally Tysmiled tiredlyandresponded with,"AndIloveyoutoo,jackass . . . No,itwasn't ourcar . . .No.No,I'mnot lyingtoyou. Iwould never lietoyou,"hewent onwryly, which produced more cussing.

Finally, Tytoldthemanthathehadtogo,andhedidn't waitfor the lastcurses before heended the callwith asmallsmile."Those ex-Recon boys canmotheryoutodeath,"hetoldZanebywayofexplanation. Hisface clouded over, though, andhefrowned slightly. "Word ofthecarbomb isout, and so is the fact that we were the targets."

Nodding slowly, Zaneprocessed thatmorepeoplethanthekiller wouldbelookingforthem,andthatTyhadpeoplewhoworriedabouthim andkepttrackofhim.Itmadetheothermanalittlemorehuman."Idon't trustour ownright now," hesaidashetriednottothink about Ty."Butwe don't have much choice but to work with them. We need the contacts."

"Contacts," Tymutteredinfrustration. "CallHenninger. We'llmeet himsomewhere . . . theotherhotelroom,"hesuggested."Killtwobirdswith one trip," he grunted as he crawled out of bed slowly.

"You doing okay?" Zane asked, watching Ty move so carefully.

"I'll live," Ty muttered.

Zane pulled hiscelloutofhisbackpocket, flipped itopen, andmade the call. It took a few rings to pick up.

"Henninger,"came the clipped answer.

"It's Garrett," Zane said shortly. "What's the climate?"

"Prettytame,considering," Henningeransweredinacompletely differentvoice,onethatwasslightlymoreaccommodating. "They'reasking aboutyou,butnottoodiligently. Peoplearewondering howfuckinglongit takes youtwotogetacupofcoffee, butother than thatthey're stilltoo distracted withthesceneintheparking decktogiveadamnaboutyou,"he wentoninalow,almostwhispered voice."Whereareyou?"heasked carefully.

"In asecure location," Zane said vaguely. "We're going to need some assistance,and you're our man. Are you in?"

There was along silence. Finally, Henninger answered carefully with, "I'll do what I can."

"We're having lunch attheHard Rock," Zane said, deliberately pickingabusyplacewayacrosstowndespiteTy'ssuggestion."Trytokeep the goons off our backs, all right?"

"What time?"Henninger asked softly, his voice faraway, as ifhehad turned to look behind him as he spoke.

Zane looked at his watch: 10:30. "Noon," he said curtly, and he ended the call.

Tywatchedhimwithoneeyebrowraised."HardRock?"heasked with a frown.

Offering the other man a grin, Zane shrugged. "Popular. Busy. Noisy." Hetucked thephone back into hispocket andstood tostretch slowly, getting out the kinks.

"Howromantic," Tyresponded flatlyasherubbedthewetraghe'd retrievedoverthebackofhisheadandlookedaroundforhisclothing."He say he'd meet us?"

"He said he'd dowhat hecould," Zane answered. "Ithink he'llshow. Eager, wetbehind theearsandallthat." Hegroaned ashisarmsreached far above himandherolled hisneck. "Christ. HowlonghaveIhadthisjob? Calling him a damn puppy. He must be in his late twenties."

"Hisfilesaidthirty,"Tyresponded withoutthinkingashefinally located his pants.

ZanelookedatTyinamusement. "Youreadhisfile?"Hiseyes narrowed. "You read myfiletoo, didn't you. At leastthe unclassified one." It wasn't a question.

Tylooked upatZaneandflushed slightly. "Ididn't readyours," he answered in slight embarrassment.

Tipping hisheadtooneside,Zanesettled hishands onhiships."The wayyousaythatmakesmethinkyouacquiredmyfile,then.Whynotread it?"

Typursed hislipsandshook hishead. "Files don't tellthewhole story,"hefinallymurmured. "IguessIwashopingyou'dmakemeread between the lines."

"Did I?" Zane asked, not moving.

Tywassilentandunmoving foralongmoment. Finally, hegavean almostimperceptiblenodandsaid,"Icertainlyneverexpectedyoutodrug me."

Zane'slipstwitched."Yousortofgotahard-knockspharmaciston yourhands,man,"hesaidbeforewalkingovertothetableforhisholster. After a long moment, he added, "Wasn't any malice behind it."

"I know," Ty respondedbefore he could stop himself. "Fucker."

Zanecouldn't holdback thesnort. Hejustshook hishead and shrugged intotheholster. Itseemed likethey'd beokay.Fornow,anyway. "Get into your pants, Ty. We don't need to attract that kind of attention."

"Yeah,myassissosorethere's probably abull's-eye onit,"Ty grumbled as he stepped into his jeans.

"Whiner," Zanesaidwithaquietchuckle asheturnedtolookatTy whileheshrugged intohisshirt."You'd thinkyouwentskiingandhada terrible time."

"I did," Ty huffed. "Barely remember it."

"You've already proven what a good liar you are; no need to practice," Zane retorted.

"I am not a liar," Ty respondedwith an affronted grunt.

Zaneraisedanobviouslydisbelievingeyebrow."‘No,itwasn'tour car, I would never lie to you,'" he repeated back with a smirk.

"Pft,"Tyoffered asheshrugged intohisshirt."HeknewIwaslying through my teeth."

"Doesn't change thefactthatyouwerelying.Through yourteeth. Gleefully,even," Zane said.

"Shut up," Ty grunted.

Zane crossed hisarms. "Aren't youready yet?You're asbadasa woman, taking forever to get ready to go out," he dug.

Tystopped whathewasdoingandlookedup,meetingZane'seyes. "Chalk it up to working off the roofie," he shot back.

Therewasnothingtosaytothat.Zanehadbeenthere,manyatime. Heknew heshouldn't have pushed. Hesighed, nodded, andheaded outtothe front room.

Tyjustrolledhiseyesandsattopullonhisboots."YouknowifI wasreallypissedIwouldhavejusthityou,right? Ortriedto,anyway," he calledwryly,eventhoughhewasslightlypissedaboutit,andwouldremain so. It had been a stupid fucking thing to do.

"That'sactuallywhatIexpected," Zanecalledbackasheopenedthe forgottenbagofbreakfastandpulledoutyogurtandacouplebagels.Ty would have a conniptionwhen he saw it. Zane grinned.

"Wantme to hityou,then?Soyouwon'tbe disappointed?"Ty offered hopefully as he stood slowly and made his way into the other room.

Zane didn't lookupfrom thetable. "Ifit'llmake you feelbetter," he saidashemixedsugar intohiscoffee.Hewashyper-aware ofwhereTywas, though.

"Maybewhenmyheaddoesn'thurt."Tyshruggednegligentlyashe peered down at the breakfast."What the shit is this?"

Zane snickered and added cream to his coffee.

"You fucking pansy," Ty muttered under his breath.

Zanesniggeredalittlemore."They'vegothotfooddowninthe lobby, but since we're going to lunch we don't need to eat this crap."

Typickedthroughtheslimofferings,grumblingwordlessly."Let's getthefuckoutofhere,"hefinallymutteredashegrabbedhisbattered leather jacket. Hestopped andsighed asheexamined it."Need togetanew jacket, I guess," he said almost to himself, his voice wistful and slightly sad.

Stepping close and rubbing a finger along the sleeve, Zane said softly, "Now it's got character."

"Ithadcharacter before," Tymuttered withafrown ashepractically cradled thejacket inhisarms. "Now it'sgotblood onit.Anditsmellslike burnt cow."

"Areyouworried aboutthejacketorworried aboutyourself?" Zane asked, still sliding his fingers along the leather.

"Ismelllikeburntcow?"Tyaskedinnocently inreturn.Zaneshook his head, wryly expectant. "What?" Tyasked as he held the jacket to his chest defensively.

Zanecouldn'tbelievethatofallthings,hewasutterlycharmedby thissideofTy.Hetook Ty'schin between hisfingers, leanedcloser, and kissed him firmly.

Tystiffened insurprise, thenrelaxedslightlyandreturned the unexpectedkiss.Itwasn'tsoftorsweet,butitwasn'tout-of-controlhot, either.HemumbledsoftlyagainstZane'slips,confusedbytheactionsbut enjoying them anyway. "That's not nice to do to a man with a concussion,"he admonishedin a low voice when their mouths parted.

"Why not?" Zane asked, lips quirked, dropping his hands and waiting.

"BecauseI'measilyconfused,"Tyansweredwithoutthoughttothe many meanings the words could have.

"Iratherdoubtthat,"Zanemurmured.Theywerestandingchestto chest, not touching but for the jacket between them.

Typoked himgentlyinthestomach, tryingtoputsomedistance between them again to dispel the uncomfortablewarmth.

"Is that the best you can do? You must be more hurt than Ithought," Zane needled.

"Iam,"Tyresponded softly,takingastepbackandlicking hislips nervously.

Zaneslowly nodded. Allright,that's howitwasgoing tobe.He picked thekeys upoffthetable."Let's go,then,"hesaidashepocketed the key cards.

"Are you . . . areyoufeeling thistoo?" Tyasked against hisbetter instincts.

TherewasahitchinZane's movement thatgaveawayhisreaction to Ty'swords, andhishandstayedjammed intohispocketasheshiftedhis weightandthenhiseyesreturnedtoTy.Zanesearchedtheothermanfor someclue,somesign,ashismildapprehension wasoverwhelmed bywant. Wantforsomething ofTyhecouldn't define.Zanedidn'tsayyes . . .buthe didn't say no.

"We need to go one way or the other with this," Ty went on earnestly with a little wave of his hand.

ThetoneofTy'svoicemadeZanesmile."Onewayortheother, huh?"

"You'rebigonrules,right?Weneedrules,"Tyrespondedwitha sincere frown. "I prefer rules that still allow fucking."

Zane's eyes widened. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neckwithonehand."Rulesthatstillallowfucking," herepeated,voiceabit shaky ashewas really trying hard not tograb Ty, throw him onthetable, and suck him off until he screamed. "What sort of rules? What do you want?"

"No more surprise kisses," Ty demanded with a wag of his finger.

"Okay," Zane agreed, a bit mystified.

Tyclearedhisthroatandpursedhislipsasifhehadthoughtthere wouldbeanargument. Theimpulsive kisses,whileveryenjoyable, were blurring thelinesforhim.Hedidn't likeblurrylines unless hewastrying to cross them.

"That's all I can think of," he finished with a frown and a slight blush.

"You don't look too sure about that," Zane pointed out helpfully.

"Ireserve the right toadd rules," Tyresponded with adeeper flush as he crossed his arms protectively over his jacket.

"Whataboutme?"Zaneasked, fascinated byTy'smindatwork despitetheshufflingithadsuffered.Themanwasobviouslystrugglingwith something he didn't want to admit. Zane thought, perhaps, Ty wantedhim and didn't want to say so. Perhaps.

"What about you?" Ty asked uncomfortably.

"DoIgettomakerules?" Zane asked, moving slightly closer. Something aboutTyhadchanged.Heseemedmoreapproachable, more moldable. Definitely morefuckable. Likethehitontheheadhadknocked some of the abrasive stubbornnessout of him.

"Maybe,"Ty allowed warily.

Another stepforward, sotheywerepractically chesttochestagain. "Only maybe?" Zane rumbled.

Tybreathedoutheavilythroughhisnoseandtiltedhisheadtothe side restlessly.

Zane tiltedhishead tomatch him. "How about wetaketurns making rules?" hepurred, putting bothhands ontheleather jacket andpulling itout from between them. This hecould do.Sexhecould do.Sexwith Tyhecould definitely do.

Tyjustlickedhislipsandwatched thejacketasifitwerealifeline slippingaway.Zanelaiditasideonthetable,reachedup,andturnedTy's chin toward him. Hell, sometimes just looking athim made Zane hard, and all goodsensewentflyingouttheeighth-storywindow.Whatbeingthisclose was doing to him . . . Ty was a goddamn narcotic.

"What about not-surprisekisses?" Zane rasped.

Tyswallowed heavilyandinclinedhisheadslightly, hischinstillin Zane's grasp. "Idon't think those have been banned yet,"hefinally answered hoarsely.

ZanerealizedthathefinallyhadTyjustasoff-kilter asTyhadhim. And Ty was a very strong man. Strong of will and strong of opinion.

"Good," Zane replied. "Just wanted that clarified. Now. You want me to not-surprisekiss you or walk away?"

"Neither," Tyanswered gruffly,lowering hisheadstubbornly before reaching upandgrabbing thebackofZane's necktopullhim thatlastinch closer and kiss him.

Joining in the kiss, Zane pulled Ty hard up against his body, wrapping his arms around him. Fuck, why did they always talk so much? This was the waythey related best. This wasthe way they clicked. What were they supposed to do with that?

Tyfinallypushedawayandheldhimatarm'slength."Nowwhat?" hepantedbreathlessly, hisbreathhitchingpainfullyashisribsprotestedthe festivities.

Zane shook hishead. "Are youfeeling thistoo?"herasped. This insane, blown-away pleasure, the near impossible-to-assuagehunger, the ache deepinside,contrasted byshortmoments oftenderness thatseemedsooutof place. Zane certainly wasn't sure where they came from, but oh, God . . .

Tywatched him,stilltryingtoslowhisbreathing andholding himat arm's distance. "No," he lied blithely.

Knowing fullwellwhatTywassaying, Zaneletoutapent-up breath before slowly shaking hishead. "Me, either," hesaid,voice more intent than he'd meant it to be. His eyes stayed unswervinglyon his partner.

Tywasnodding almost fervently evenasZanespoke. "Good," he breathed quietly. "That's good."

Zane nodded slowly. "Yeah . . . good."

A white lights in the dark Description automatically generated

Roughlyanhourlater,ZaneandTysatinaboothattheHardRockCafe, Tyshiftingrestlesslyinanewjackethehadswornhewouldneverlikeas they both pretendednot to be watching the door.

"Idon't know whyyou're pissyabout thejacket," Zane said tohim, admiring theblackleather ashetapped hisunlitcigaretteonthetable.Damn no-smoking-in-restaurantsordinances. "Ishouldhavegottenone.Beenafew years since I had a leather jacket."

"It's black," Ty huffed. "And it smells new."

"Theyhadbrown," Zanepointed out,eyesstudying thebusycrowd. "There'snohelpforitsmellingnew,unlessyouwanttofindsomedirtand roll around in it, maybe drive over it a few times with the SUV."

"Myotheronegotrunoverbyamotorcycle once,"Tyresponded hopefully, leaningforward onhiselbows. "Andthebrownoneswasalltoo small."

Zanesmiled, noticing thewayTy'saccentwasstronger andhis grammar wasworse whenhewasirritated.Themore hegottoknow him,the more obvious itwasbecoming thatalotofTyGrady wasafa?ade—or layers ofseveralmasks.Zanewasn'tsureifhewouldeverseetherealman,andit made him slightly sad. He thought maybe he would really like the real man.

"You could havewaited," hepointed out."Lord knows there're enough storesinthistown."Hesatback,stretching hislegsouttothesideof the table almost into the aisle. "Maybe I'll go get one yet."

"Yeah, that'llbefun,beingtwins," Tymuttered underhisbreath. Finally, hegrowled and shrugged out of the squeaky new leather and tossed it across the table at Zane. "Fucking take it," he muttered.

Catching the jacket just before it hit him in the face, Zane grinned and shookitout,lookingoveritgleefully. Withoutevenblinking awayfromthe jacket,hemurmured, "Henninger's here,"beforesayinglouder,"Thanks, Grady, it's not even my birthday."

"Youcangofuck yourself," Tymuttered, loudenough forHenninger to hear as he approachedthe table.

"Well, it's . . .good tosee you're stillthe samesweet pair," Henninger murmuredashenoddedatthemandglancedaroundidlybeforeslidinginto the booth beside Zane.

"WhatcanIsay,it'sstillthehoneymoonphase,"Zaneanswered dryly, picking up his iced tea.

"Mycondolences," Henningerrespondedflatly,noddingatZane. "What the hell is going on?" he asked as Ty growled wordlessly.

"Youtellus,"Zaneretorted, stillsitting back,relaxed. "Iimagine the shit's still hitting the fan at the office."

"Andit'sdrippingoffthewalls,"Henningernoddedinanswer."Is there a . . . particular reason, byanychance, that you two haven't come back in yet?" he asked carefully. "Are you okay?" he asked Ty with a small frown.

Zane glanced atTy,whowasdoing agood joboflooking bored and disinterested. Thatorhisheadwasstillpounding andhereallywasn'tpaying attention.ItwashardforZanetotell."He'sgotalittleheadache.He'sfine," heanswered fortheotherman."Andwe'reratherfondofourskins," he continued. "Theofficeseemstobeahotbedofopportunity forassassinations right now," Zane said. "Can you get the informationwe need?"

"Youthinksomeone intheBureau istryingtokillyou,"Henninger murmuredalmostunderhisbreath,repeatinghiswordsfromthedaybefore but sounding slightly more convinced. The noise of the busy restaurant coveredtheirconversation perfectly. "Howdidhefindoutwhyyouwere here?"heasked,apparentlywantingthemtoknowthatheagreedwiththeir assumptions."Andwhyriskconfirmingwhat,uptonow,hasjustbeena suspicion?"

Zane just raised hisbrow, and theysatback quietlyasaserver appeared to take Henninger's drink order and drop off Ty and Zane's appetizer. Snapping out of his supposed daze, Ty reached forward and snaggedachickenfinger,crunching onitashewatched Henninger thoughtfully. Thekidseemedtobehavingahardtimecomingtotermswith the fact that the serial really was an FBI man.

"Itain'tjustushe'stryingtooff,"Tysaidtotheyoungerman. "Therewasanattemptonyouaswell,incaseyouforgot,"hereminded softly. "This boyknows what we're doing before wedoit.Heknows how to getinandgetoutwithoutgettingontape.He'sastepaheadofusallthe way."

"Look,we'renotgoingbackinthere,andwe'renotreportingin againuntilwegetsomehardevidencetotaketosomeonehighup,"Zane said."Youcangetustheinformationweneedfrominside—andyou've proven youcankeepyourmouth shut."Hereached outandtookupaloaded potato skin. "We'll take care of the rest," he murmured,meeting Ty's eyes.

Tymerelysatandstared, andHenninger looked between themwitha frown."Idon'tlikethis,"hefinallymuttered.Heshifteduncomfortably and looked away. He had several healing cuts on his face and alaceration that had been stitched up on his neck.

Tywatched him withasmallfrown. Ithadtakenalotofgutsforthe kidtocomeouthereandmeetthem,knowing theywereAWOL. Andhe appeared tobelegit,whichTyfoundalmostsurprising. NotailthatTyhad seen. Risking hisnecktotryandhelpthem justdaysaftergetting metaland plastic shrapnel to the face, the kid was earning Ty's grudging respect.

"Okay,"Henninger finallysaidsoftlyashelookedbackatZaneand then at Ty.

Zane smiled crookedly."Good. Here's what we need."

Standing outside the SUV smoking, Zane waited as Ty finished talking with Henninger before they went their opposite ways. The kid had balls, that was for sure. He still seemed so damn naive, though. Shaking his head, he leaned back against the door, tapping ashes to float to the ground."

"That shit'll kill you, y'know," Ty murmured as he walked up to stand beside the SUV.

Zane gave him an amused look as he pulled the cigarette from between his lips. "This was the least destructive of my vices. Quit as many as I did and see if you don't need one to keep the others in line." He thought about that for a minute. "I suppose I could have kept whoring instead."

"That'll kill you too," Ty respondedsimply.

Taking another drag,Zanetipped hishead. "Maybe I'llthinkaboutit whenIdon'tneedthestressrelief,"heallowed.Heblewthesmokeupinto the air away from Ty and chuckled darkly. "They were all good for that."

"Whynottrollthebars?"Tyaskedcuriously, unable tohelphimself. "You're a good-lookingguy. Did you just get a kick out of paying for it?"

Zanesmiled."DidIcatchacompliment inthere?"heasked,flicking ashes tothesideashelooked athisfeet.Hetook another pull offthehalf-gone cigarette before answering."Breakingthe rules is addictive too."

Tyinclined hisheadslightlyandpeered atZanethrough thedark lenses ofhisbrown aviators. "How inthehelldidyoumakeitpastthepsych exams?" he asked finally in exasperation.

Breathingin deeplyandblowingthesmokeout andaway,Zane looked resigned. "You're not the only one good at lying through your teeth."

Tywassilent foralongmoment before heleaned closer andlowered hissunglassesenoughtomeetZane'seyes."Ifyouturnouttobethekiller, I'm going to be all kinds of pissed off, got it?" he warned.

Zanethrewbackhisheadandlaughed."Igotplansforalotmore fucking before anymercykilling, man," hesaid,taking alastdragofthe cigarette before dropping it and grindingit under his boot.

Tysnorted inresponse andlooked upanddownthesidewalk slowly beforereaching forthedoorhandle andopening thepassenger-sidedoor. "Let's get the fuck out of here," he muttered. "I got a headache."

Keys jingling inhand, ZaneclimbedintotheSUV along with Ty.

"Henninger said he'd put inthe paperwork for thecar so they won't tag us for it,"Tysaidastheyboth gotsettled. "HealsosaidInever actuallycalled him about those damn personnelfiles. I could have sworn I did."

"Ithinkwegotdistracted byfood,thentheNYPDcalled andoffwe went," Zane answered regretfully."Did he say he'd get on it?"

"Hesaidhe'dneedtheoriginalfiles.They'reintheoldroom,"Ty answered.

"Holiday Inn?" Zane asked.

Ty nodded. "I want my other jacket," he grumbled in answer.

Zanelookeddownathisdandynewblackjacketandsmirked."Off we go, then." He went quiet for a long minute as the radio played. "Whiner."

"Shut up,"Tymuttered, tryingnottowatch thetraffic passing soit wouldn't makehimsick.Hetookhissunglasses offandrubbed hiseyes."I shouldnothaveeaten,"hemurmured afteramoment, andheleanedhishead against his hand and covered his eyes with his fingers.

Glancing overattheotherman,worryshowed onZane's face."We cangobacktotheTribeca forawhile,"heoffered. "Idon'tparticularly want to see you puking your guts up."

Itspoke to just how lousy he was feeling that Tydidn't argue. He just swallowed heavily and nodded in agreement. Zane turned at the next right and twenty minutes latertheypulled upatthedoors. "Goahead. I'llgopark the truck," Zane said.

"No," Tyanswered with ashake ofhisheadashelooked upatthe hotel. "We need to stick to each other as much as we can."

Without sayinganother word,ZaneputtheSUVbackinmotion and drove down into the parking garage. When he stopped the truck, one glance at the other man worried him more. "Ty, you don't look so good."

"Idon'tfeelsogood, neither," Tymuttered. Aviolent shiver ran through him,andhelooked overatZane withafrown. Hehadlosthiscolor, and he was feeling slightly light-headed.

Zane's eyeswidened. "Isthisleftoverfrombefore?Areyouthat sensitive to drugs?"

"Ithinkit'stheconcussion thing,"Tymurmured asheunbuckled his seatbeltandopened thedoorwithaslightlurch. "Ibeenfighting itall morning,"hemuttered."Andnomoredrugs!"hecalledashegotoutofthe car and pushed the door shut.

Sliding hiswayoutoftheseatbeltandgetting outofthetruck, Zane metTyatthebackbumper, reaching forward tocatchtheothermanwhenhe staggered. "Christ," Zanehissedbelowhisbreath.HeslidanarmunderTy's and helped him walk.

"Told you I should've stayed in the fucking hospital," Ty grumbled as heheld toZane tightly. "Jesus. AtleastIdidn't dothis infront ofthe kid," he mutteredashetriedandfailedtowalkastraightline."MaybeIneedtogo back," he said doubtfully.

"Itwasn'tsafeatthehospital," Zaneanswered. Hetightened hisarm aroundTywhentheystoppedattheelevatorandhereachedouttohitthe button. "Anyone canwalkintothoserooms. You're betteroffhere.Butthis timeyou're takingsomeTylenol tohelpwiththeswelling andfever," he chastised.Zane could feel the heat radiating off his partner.

"Fever," Ty huffed dubiously, closing his eyes and staving off anotherwaveofnausea."I'veneverhadaconcussion before,"headdedina distant voice.

"Never?"ZanesaidindisbeliefashehelpedTyintotheelevator. "YouwereReconintheMarinesandundercoverfortheFBI,andyou've never had a concussion?How the hell did you manage that?"

"I ducked," Ty answered in a childishly honest voice.

"Youducked," Zanemuttered. "Smart-ass." HeshiftedTycloser against him ashemade surehehadtheother man onhisfeetwhen thedoor opened. "Think you can make itunder your own power to the main elevator?" he asked, looking out into the corridor.

"Uh-huh,"Tyanswered withanodthatmadehimwince.He swallowedheavilyandstraightenedup,closinghiseyesandtryingtouse sheer willpowerto force his head to stop spinning. "Maybe," he amended.

Zanelookedoverhimdoubtfully, butledthewayoutoftheelevator, hovering rightnexttoTyastheystrolled slowlydownthehalltothemain bankofelevators.Luckily,beingthemiddleoftheafternoon,peoplewere sparse. He hit the Up button.

Ty didn't know what was worse, keeping his eyes open and seeing the room spinorclosing them andfeeling it.Heplaced hispalm against thewall andleaned heavily against it,going whiterashetried toplow through it. "Which hotel was this?" he asked Zane as he finally closed his eyes again.

Zane's eyes flashed toTy,seeing him pale."The TribecaGrand," he murmured, moving closer to slide his arm around Ty's lower back.

"SoIcancrash?" Tyventured hopefully, leaningintoZaneagainas the elevator doors opened.

"Yeah, youcan," Zaneagreed, notletting goofhimastheystepped intotheelevator.Fiveminuteslatertheywereintheroom,andZanehelped Tytothebed."Hereweareagain,"hesaidwithasigh."Canyousituplong enough for me to get the Tylenol?"

"Yeah," Ty answered with a deep blush of embarrassment.

Zanecrouched infrontofhimandcupped hischeek. "Hey. It'snot you, okay?It'sthecrackonthehead.Nothing tobeashamed of,feeling like shit. Believe me, I've been there."

Ty merely nodded, barely meeting Zane's eyes.

ZaneliftedTy'schin."Stubborn jarhead," hemuttered, asmidgen of fondness in his voice. Then he stood up and walked to the bathroom.

Ty lowered his head and licked his lips slowly, sighing in relief as the dizziness begantoebb.Hehatednothaving control overhisbody.Hehated being hurtatall,buthead injuries had always been oneofhisgreater fears. He'd seen what they could do to even the strongest of men days, even months after the initial injury.

Walkingbackwithtwopillsandaglassofwater,Zanecrouched down again. "RealTylenol, see?Onlytwo,"hejokedquietly, offering them palm up. "Bottoms up, then bottom down. You need to sleep."

"Ugh,"Tycommented quietlyashetookthepillsanddowned them. "Just a few minutes," he insisted stubbornly.

"What for?" Zane asked.

"We'vegoneAWOL,"Tysaidwithdifficulty, usingthewrong terminologyand not even realizingit. "Gotta get something done."

Zane frowned. "What is it? SomethingI can do?"

"No, just... something.Anything,"Ty clarified.

Shakinghishead,ZanesettledahandonTy'sarm."Whatyouneed todoissleep,"heinsisted. "Thenwecandosomething. Butwecan'tifyou can't even walk."

"Point," Ty allowed as he let himself slowly curl on his side.

ZanenoddedandtuggedoffTy'sbootsbeforepushinghislegsup onto thebed andpulling upthesheet. "Yellifyou needme,"hemurmured, sliding hishandthrough Ty'shairgently.Tygrunted inanswer, already drifting off.

Getting tohisfeet,Zane rubbed hisfacewithonehand andsighed, lookingaroundaimlessly. Ifhelefttheroom,Tywouldsmacktheshitoutof him when hewoke up. Zane was certain ofthat. Sowith asigh hepulled off the leather jacket and walked out to the front of the suite to wait.