Cut & Run 05 - Armed & Dangerous (29 page)

T HE distant ringing of a phone rousted Ty, but he was still lying in the warm cocoon of blankets and Zane’s arms, staring at the ceiling, when Deuce skidded into the living room.

“Get up,” Deuce said in a panicked voice.

Ty shot up, rolling over Zane and clambering to his feet gracelessly, spurred on by the tone of Deuce’s words. Zane flailed and

wound up rolling off the bed with him. Ty left him on the floor as he stood. “What’s wrong?”

“Livi’s on her way, you have to fix that doorknob.”
“How close is she?”
“In the lobby, Ty!”

Ty sprinted for the kitchen, almost dreading what sort of contraption he would see attached to the doorknob. “Why didn’t you tell her not to come up?”

“It was the doorman, she didn’t call ahead.”
“Well, call her and tell her to wait in the hall!” Ty said as he knelt in front of the doorknob. “What the shit is this?” It was so innocuous that he almost reached up to touch it. A row of connected straws wrapped around the base of the knob and led to the nearby coffee

maker like a string. The knob itself was covered in tin foil, and Ty could see foil sticking out from inside several of the straws. “I….”

“Ty, come on, take it off.”
“I’m not even sure where to begin.”
“Ty!”
“Did you call her?”
“Her phone’s not picking up, she must be in the elevator.” “What’s going on?” Zane asked from the doorway to the kitchen.

His hair was mussed, and he still looked half-asleep. A moment later Julian joined them.
“Cross! How do we dismantle this thing?”
“Carefully,” Julian answered, voice calm and quiet. “The
current’s in the foil.”
“What if we cut it?” Ty asked.
Julian hummed, not sounding optimistic.
“Ground yourself,” Zane said as he brought his boots over and
clunked them down beside Ty’s knee.
In the moment of calm while Ty was sliding his feet into the
boots, they heard the elevator ding in the hallway outside.
“Oh God,” Deuce said as he held the phone to his ear. “Come on,
baby, answer the phone.”
“Give me some oven mitts.”
“You’re going to shock the shit out of yourself,” Julian
murmured. “I want to take this moment to thank you profusely for
letting me watch.”
“Shut up!” Ty and Zane both shouted at him.
Zane handed Ty the kitchen shears, and Ty tapped the end of one
of the straws with the blade. Sparks flew, and he could feel the current
running through the straws.
“Holy shit!” Zane cried, as if he hadn’t really thought it would
work.
“You’re not helping!” Ty told him, his voice wavering. “That was incredible!”
“Zane!”
“I’m sorry, that was just really… I’m sorry.”
“Can we bask in its glory after we dismantle it?” Deuce growled
as he dialed Livi’s number again. “It’s going straight to voicemail.” “I….” Ty winced as he pulled the oven mitts on.
“Ty! You’re about to electrocute my girlfriend!”
They heard keys jingle outside the door.
“Livi, don’t touch the door!” Deuce called.
“Deacon?” a dainty voice said on the other side of the door. “Answer your goddamn phone! Ty, cut it.”
The hair on Ty’s arms rose as he held the scissors up to the
straws. “Oh, God, this is gonna hurt.”
“What is going on in there?” Livi asked, and the keys jangled
again.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ty saw Cameron dart through the
kitchen to the coffee maker on the counter. He reached behind it and
yanked the plug out of the wall. The buzzing sensation on Ty’s arms
ceased, and then he heard Livi’s key slide into the lock on the other
side.
Nothing happened.
“Oh, well, that would have been easier. Well done, Cam,” Julian
said in a pleased voice.
The door opened before Ty could scramble away, smacking him
square in the cheek and sending him sprawling backward. He lay on the tile floor, holding his face as Livi walked into the
condo. “Oh my goodness, Ty! I’m so sorry!” the woman said as she put
both hands to her mouth and bent over him. Livi was a beautiful girl,
possibly less so just then since Ty could see two of her. She had
intelligent robin’s-egg-blue eyes and hair so blonde it seemed white
when the sun hit it. She was lithe and athletic, everything Ty thought a
yoga instructor would probably be. She also led with her shoulder when
she opened a door.
Zane took his arm and hefted him to his feet. Ty shook his head to
clear the gauze. “So nice to see you again,” he muttered to her. She still
had her fingers over her lips, staring at him with big blue eyes. She turned and looked at Deuce, giving him a helpless gesture.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Livi, you remember my brother, Ty. This is his partner, Zane
Garrett.”
“Hi,” Zane offered in a low voice that sent a shiver up Ty’s spine. “And these are their… friends, Julian and Cameron,” Deuce said
as he waved at the other two men.
“Nice to meet you,” Cameron mumbled.
She greeted them each, overwhelmed by the surprise, then looked
at the doorknob and the string of straws, shaking her head. “What is all
this?”
“It was a security measure. We’re running from the CIA,” Ty told
her, not even attempting to spare her. “They’re trying to kill us.” “Well, kill him, specifically,” Zane added as he pointed at Julian. “I sell antiques,” Julian said, monotone.
She narrowed her eyes, looking amongst them and then at Deuce.
“Is this some sort of boys’ weekend that I’m not supposed to intrude
on? Because I can totally leave before they hurt themselves trying to lie
convincingly.”
Deuce gave her a warm smile and shook his head. “I think the
only one lying is him,” he said, pointing at Julian.
“SO, I’M…I’m sorry, tell me again?” Livi stuttered as they all sat in
the living room of Deuce’s condo.
“We’re serious,” Ty told her. “The CIA is trying to kill us.” “Him,” Zane muttered.
“Would you stop that? Come on!”
“It’s more accurate to say they’re trying to kill him.” “Zane!”
Julian rolled his eyes. “I believe what Agent Garrett is trying to
point out is that you are likely in no danger because of our presence
here.”
Livi nodded, looking at him dubiously.
“They’re lying,” Cameron said, his voice remarkably offhand.
“You are in danger because we’re here, they’re trying to protect you so
you won’t worry. They do that.”
“Cam!” Julian said, stunned into gaping at his lover.
Ty smacked his forehead and covered his face with his hand. “Wow, you guys are… I could make a mint off your therapy,”
Deuce muttered.
“I’m sorry—I really am—I’m just tired of this macho bullshit!”
Cameron said as he waved a hand at them. He turned to Julian. “Can
you honestly look at me andtell me you’re not scared?”
Julian tried to respond, but his mouth was still hanging open. Cameron looked at Ty and Zane where they sat together on a
square ottoman. “And you two, you’re just ridiculous! You’re so busy
bitching at each other and trying to look like you don’t care that you
don’t realize you’re throwing your lives away waiting for it to be the
right time to admit you’re in love.”
“Cameron!” Julian finally managed to say, waving at Deacon and
Livi as if Cameron might not remember they were there.
Cameron cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”
Livi glanced over at Ty and Zane, then looked at Deuce. “So
when you said partner, you meant like
working
partner? Because that
didn’t really come across so much as they were a couple.”
Zane pinched the bridge of his nose, but he appeared to be
smiling.
“Really?” Ty asked, sounding concerned.
“You scream ‘we’re screwing’.”
“Huh.”
“Well, now that we’ve got
that
cleared up,” Deuce said as he
stood. “What are you going to do?”
Ty and Zane looked at each other, and then both men glanced at
Julian. Zane was shaking his head, but Ty’s eyes moved from Julian to
Cameron.
“What do we do, Cam?” Ty asked in a soft voice.
“Excuse me?”
“Look, you’re right. People like us, sometimes we can’t see the
forest for the trees. We were all trying to figure out how to dismantle
that freaking doorknob when none of us thought to just pull the plug.” Cameron nodded.
“We haven’t asked you, not once, what you thought we should
do,” Ty continued.
Julian tore his eyes away from the FBI agents and looked at his
lover. Ty was right. They’d been pulling Cameron along without so
much as a thought to what he might want or think.
Cameron met his eyes, uncertain.
“Go ahead, Cam.”
“Well… we can’t fly or ride a train. You’ve been saying that
driving into DC is suicide. So why not get there another way?” “Another way,” Julian repeated.
“Oh God,” Ty muttered.
“Water,” Zane said, sounding surprised and irritated that none of
them had thought of it before.
Julian slid his arm around Cameron’s waist, squeezing him. “Getting our hands on a boat won’t be easy,” Ty said, sounding
grim. “We’d have to take a smuggler’s line down the coast.” “Avoid the Coast Guard, and slip into port without a course
plotted or papers,” Zane added. “That’s if we can find a boat.” Livi perked up and smiled.“Daddy has a boat.”
Deuce cleared his throat. “I think they’re thinking more
inconspicuous than your dad’s yacht, honey.”
“Oh wait, I think they took it to St. Vincent.”
“Yacht?” Ty said with a smirk at his brother.
“She’s smart, beautiful, and loaded. What’s not to love?” Deuce
drawled, matching the smirk with one of his own.
“I’m a trust fund baby—both of you shut up,” Livi said. Zane was smiling at her and Ty was shaking his head, eyes
focused on the pure-white carpet. “I know someone who has a boat.” Zane looked at his partner, one eyebrow raised. Ty glanced
sideways at him and winced.
“Who?” Zane asked.
“You’re not going to like it.”

Chapter 15

 

T HEY used Livi and her incomparable charm to gain access to the private port on the Delaware River where her father kept his yacht. She sweet-talked one of the skippers into letting them take a small boat out for a “joy ride,” and in less than an hour they had set sail down the Delaware toward open water.

By the time night fell, they had reached the coordinates they’d been given. They anchored there, bobbing in the choppy water, to wait.
Zane and the others thanked Deuce and Livi for their help and then went out on the cockpit to let Ty say goodbye. Zane watched through the window as he hugged Livi. She put her hand to her belly in a gesture Zane knew meant Ty was telling her he was happy for them. Zane’s lips twitched in a smile. He liked Livi, and he couldn’t wait to hear about her meeting Ty and Deuce’s family. It also made him sad, though; he wouldn’t be introduced to Ty’s family in the same way she would be any time soon.
Ty gave Deuce a tight hug, holding onto him for longer than he usually did as he spoke to him. Then he handed Deuce the last of their cash, and Zane knew he was telling his brother to get out of town for a few days and not to use his credit cards.
Zane had to fight back a jangle of nerves. He had to believe that the CIA agents after them wouldn’t hurt anyone unless they were in the path of Julian Cross. Deuce would be fine. He hoped.
A beacon of light on the water caught his eye, and he squinted into the moonless night.
“Ty!” he called as a completely different type of nervousness settled over him. “He’s here.”
When Ty had mentioned Nick O’Flaherty’s name, saying his old Recon buddy had a boat they could use, Zane had sort of expected a dinghy. He had imagined Nick inhabiting some seedy apartment over an Irish pub in South Boston. That was the impression he’d gotten from Ty’s oldest friend when he was blind and could only hear him speak. So he was surprised when a sleek sixty-foot Outer Reef 580 Motoryacht glided into the view of the little boat’s running lights.
Julian whistled from the railing where he was watching the yacht. “Not cheap. I thought you said your friend was a cop.”
“He is,” Ty said as he checked the magazine in his gun.
“Is he on the take?”
Ty looked up to glare at him. He didn’t answer, instead heading for the stern of the boat to call out to Nick and help him secure the gangplank they would use to switch boats.
Zane was scowling as he watched Ty and the shadowed figure on the other boat. Julian was right; that was not a bargain basement way to live. Zane found himself wondering how Nick afforded it.
He drew a steadying breath and then rolled his eyes. He shouldn’t be nervous. Nick knew who he was, even if Zane had never laid eyes on Nick. He watched as Ty spoke with the man, able to overhear them in the still night.
“Let me guess,” Nick’s Boston accent said in amusement. “Strippergram?”
“Yeah, let us in so we can steal your watch in the morning,” Ty muttered. The sense of humor explained why this man and Ty had become such close friends, but it also made Zane want to hate him a little more.
“We’d better get going if we intend to go unnoticed,” Nick called out as soon as they had the gangplank secured.
They boarded the yacht one at a time, Zane’s stomach in knots. Zane realized that he was desperately hoping that Mr. Nick O’Flaherty was an unfortunate-looking individual.
It was a few seconds later, when they all gathered in the salon, that Zane truly got a look at Nick for the first time as he hurried past them toward the pilothouse. He looked about Ty’s age, ruggedly handsome and clean-shaven with short strawberry-blond hair and ivygreen eyes. He was a few inches shorter than Zane, but then, most men were. He was built solidly, not as broad as Ty or Zane at the shoulders, but obviously fit. Damn him.
He wore faded jeans, a thick cable-knit sweater, and boots. The gun in his jeans told Zane he’d been expecting trouble.
They followed him through the boat, Ty moving into the pilothouse with Nick as the others stood in the galley in the middle of the yacht.
“Garrett, good to see you in one piece,” Nick said with a nod as he slid into the pilot’s seat.
“Well, it’s good to see anything,” Zane said, unable to look at Nick without thinking about how he had kissed the man Zane loved. He pushed that aside for now.
“I think we got here clean,” Ty said as he turned and waved for Julian and Cameron to join them.
“Same. What the fuck have you guys gotten into?” Nick asked.
Ty shrugged and looked around the pilothouse uneasily. Nick watched him and then turned in his seat to look at Zane.
Zane didn’t know how much Nick had been told, because Ty had spoken to him in Farsi on the phone. He stood in the galley of Nick’s yacht, trying to think of anything to fill the awkward silence that didn’t end with punching Nick in the face.
He couldn’t come up with anything, and so they stood in silence as Cameron gave Nick a weak smile and stepped forward to shake his hand. “I know you don’t know us. But thank you.”
“Ty says you need help. You got it.” He offered his hand to Cameron, then to Julian when the Irishman moved closer, introducing himself to each of them.
Zane pursed his lips as he looked around the yacht. It was sumptuous, all black leather and lacquered teak wood, shining stainless steel and top-of-the-line everything. The furniture in the salon was all built-in, heavy and luxurious, with a large television in place on the wall that separated the salon from the galley. Stairs led from the galley to an upper deck. When Zane looked around, it didn’t feel like it fit Nick at all. But then, he didn’t know Nick very well.
“So,” Nick said with false cheer. “Tell me about the people trying to kill you this time.”
“The less you know….”
“Bite me, Grady.”
“Bathroom?” Zane asked before the conversation could devolve further.
Nick pointed toward the steps that led down, right beside where he sat. “Take a right, that’s the VIP head. Left is the master. Whichever.”
Zane headed for the stairs, feeling like he was descending into the pit as he ducked and hunched his shoulders to make it down the curving stairwell. He discreetly looked around the lower cabins to try and get a feel for the man who’d made a move on his lover just a few weeks ago.
The most prominent pictures on the walls were of Nick in uniform, surrounded by smiling Marines. Very similar to Ty’s photos at home. Zane stopped and stared at one when he caught sight of a younger Ty. There were six men, all in various stages of dress, some standing, some kneeling, looking as if they had been roughhousing or playing during downtime while deployed on a carrier. Ty and Nick were front and center, wearing only pants and combat boots, both tanned from hours in the sun and salt air, their dog tags prominent on bare chests. All six men were grinning, arms around each other. Ty was holding a football, balancing it on the tip of his fingers as he displayed it for the camera.
Zane could hear Ty filling Nick in on the basics of what had happened, giving him the condensed version in typical Ty fashion. He turned toward the head before he could let himself get sucked into that vortex of uncertainty again. Ty may have looked happy in old pictures, but Zane knew Ty was happy now too.
When he returned, Nick and Ty were still discussing what needed to be done. Cameron was sitting in a corner booth that was tucked into the other side of the pilothouse, and Julian was looking askance at the low ceilings as if he might hit his head when he took a step.
“How long will it take us to get to DC?” Ty was asking Nick. “A day, two if we can only travel at night.”
“No, we need to keep a regular schedule. Travel by day, anchor at night.”
“You sure?”
Ty nodded as he rubbed his hand over his face.
“Have you dumped your cells?” Nick asked.
“Cell phones, a few cars, credit cards, badges, guns, my watch. Everything we could think of that might have been bugged or can be tracked electronically.”
“At least you’re not wearing tinfoil hats yet.”
“Only when we sleep,” Ty muttered.
“You told me on the phone that you called Digger. Was that true, or were you trying to give me a message?”
“It was true. I told him that we were coming to him so whoever was listening could overhear, and then let him know that it was a decoy.”
“Coconuts?
“Yeah.”
“So, somewhere in the bayou, Digger is preparing for the arrival of an unfriendly?”
“In theory.”
Nick glanced at Julian and Zane and then rubbed his hand over his mouth. “God help the poor bastard that shows up on his doorstep,” he muttered.
Ty huffed a laugh. “We tried to lay low a couple places, but they kept finding us. I finally realized they were pinging the receiver in my watch. We headed to Philly, but… I can’t risk Deacon.”
“Understood.”
Zane wondered if Nick had any qualms about Ty risking
him
. He didn’t let on if he did.
“I pulled out the limit from every ATM I passed while I was on duty, so I’ve got a couple thousand for you. That’s the best I can do, but I can give you my card when we make port.”
“Thank you,” Ty whispered.
Nick nodded and then glanced at the rest of them. “You all look like half-eaten sushi.”
Zane found himself fighting back a smile, and he nodded instead.
“You’re a police officer?” Cameron asked Nick, who nodded. “Isn’t there something you can do? Someone you can call to help us?”
Nick looked at him for a moment with a sympathetic frown, and then he glanced at Ty.
“The CIA is slightly out of his reach, love,” Julian murmured. He put his hand on Cameron’s shoulder and squeezed, trying to comfort him.
“I’m sorry,” Nick said, sounding sincere.
Ty met Zane’s eyes, and Zane knew exactly what he was thinking. They were going to get Cameron out of this alive even if it killed them.
“These two need a bed together,” Ty murmured to Nick as he waved a hand at Julian and Cameron.
Nick raised an eyebrow but nodded without commenting. “You can take my cabin,” he told Julian. He stood, making sure Ty had the wheel first, and then he gestured for them to follow as he ducked down the stairs. Julian and Cameron followed with murmured good-nights to Ty and Zane.
Zane moved to sit in the booth near Ty. He wasn’t sure what Ty wanted to do, though he expected visiting with Nick to be high on the list tonight. Zane didn’t really want to visit with Nick, though, and he sure as hell didn’t want Ty doing it. It bothered him enough that Ty knew his way around Nick’s boat. But he had to trust Ty, and it had to start somewhere, so why not here?
“You okay?” Ty asked as he fiddled with the controls of the yacht.
Zane pursed his lips. “Every time I look at him I want to knock his lights out.”
Ty shrugged as he kept his hand on the wheel and then glanced down the stairwell. “So do it.”
“What?”
“Do it, Zane. If it’ll make you feel better, slug him.”
Zane took in a deep breath, truly contemplating it. But he knew it wouldn’t make anything better in the end, and he was suspicious of Ty’s easy agreement.
Nick returned a few moments later.
“VIP cabin’s all set up,” he told them as he stepped into the galley and opened the refrigerator. He still had his gun stuffed in the small of his back. “Clean sheets and everything.”
“Improvement over last time,” Ty muttered.
“You had a sheet last time. And it was sort of clean.”
“Yeah, on top of a pool float that was anchored to the flybridge,” Ty said as he pointed up.
“You were on a pool float because it squeaked when you moved; we had to make sure you were still breathing!”
Ty gave a dismissive grunt and wave as he put the boat through its paces, apparently preparing to set it at anchor.
“Few years in a suit and Princess is suddenly too good for a pool float,” Nick whispered to Zane with a smirk as he handed them each a water bottle. “I’ve got food, beer, sodas, and water in the fridge. Garrett, help yourself.”
“Thanks,” Zane said, half laughing, wondering how often Nick got away with calling Ty a princess. He resented that Nick was a likable guy. He really wanted to hate him and be rude to him.
“Go on and sleep,” Nick told them. “I’ll get us settled for the night and keep watch.”
Ty left the wheel and stood. He looked from Nick to Zane, as if waiting to see if Zane was going to deck Nick. When Zane didn’t move, Ty took a few steps toward Nick and took his forearm instead of his hand, gripping it hard. “Thanks, Irish.”
“You know it,” Nick said, and then he nodded at Zane and turned to slip into the pilot’s seat.
Zane followed Ty down the stairs to the smaller of the two cabins. There was what appeared to be a queen-size bed tucked into the room, with wooden steps on either side to climb into it. Ty stuffed their bags onto a shelf that circled the bow-shaped room, then looked at Zane and smiled, albeit uncomfortably. He rubbed his hands up and down the material of his jeans just below the pockets, a nervous habit he only displayed when he couldn’t find anything else to do with his hands.
“He’s a decent guy, isn’t he?” Zane asked, dejected.
“Zane.”
“I really want to hate him.”
“So hate him. You have every right. Being drunk is never an excuse to do stupid shit. You’ll have to hate me too, though, ’cause I was there and I kissed him back.”
The words hit Zane in the chest like a sledgehammer. He stared at Ty until he realized that he wasn’t breathing and he cleared his throat. His voice was flat when he spoke. “Really.”
Ty let out a pent-up breath, his shoulders slumping as he looked away from Zane, unable to meet his eyes.
“Did you like it?” Zane asked, his voice going lower, full of barely repressed anger that he was surprised to hear.
“Zane, come on, what’s the point in that?” Ty asked, sounding frustrated and angry and possibly a little scared by the question.
Zane narrowed his eyes to scrutinize his lover. Ty had his lips pressed into a thin line and was staring at him with his hands on his hips, his eyes unreadable.
“Yeah,” he answered, spitting out the word. “A little.”
Zane couldn’t help the twisting sensation in his chest. He didn’t want to think about that, and he certainly didn’t want his very active imagination providing him with any visuals. He pressed his lips together hard and looked up at the low ceiling to let out a long breath. “I kind of wish I hadn’t asked.”
“I kind of wish I had lied,” Ty said in a soft voice.
Zane shook his head. Ty stepped up to him, hesitant, as if he thought Zane might rebuff him. He reached out and touched Zane’s cheek, stepping closer to brush his lips against Zane’s chin.
Zane closed his eyes. Ty was being just as brutally honest as he always was, even if it hurt him and even if it hurt Zane. There was something comforting in that. It didn’t wipe away the knowledge that Nick O’Flaherty was in love with Ty and had been for years or that Ty had shared and enjoyed a kiss with him.
Zane set his forehead against Ty’s cheekbone, letting his hands slide around Ty and pull him closer.