Cut and Run 07 Touch & Geaux (14 page)

“What are you going to do about Ty?” Zane asked.

“What about him?”

“You can’t let the cops come here and interview him. They might recognize him.”

Nick glanced toward the doors, chewing on his lip. “We can’t report it without him.”

“Do we have to report it at all?” Kelly asked.

“Ty is drugged up to his asshole right now; can’t we just
tell
him we called it in and let it drop?” Digger said.

Nick stared at him for a long moment, then met Zane’s eyes with a shrug. “Works for me.”

Zane rolled his eyes. “We’d be withholding evidence in a homicide investigation.”

“It’s either that or run Ty right into a whole load of questions with no answers.”

“How do we know this bag thing is even connected?” Owen asked. “Are we going on Ty’s assessment? Because he didn’t even see the other one.”

“A valid point,” Kelly said. “He’s also high. I mean . . . y’all remember the last time he was high?” He began to laugh, then cut himself short and schooled his expression when no one else laughed with him.

Nick had his hands stuffed in his pockets, not reacting as each man offered up his opinion. He glanced to Zane again. Zane found himself nodding. He was tired of finding himself embroiled in problems that weren’t his.

He immediately chastised himself. Truth and justice were part of his job. What the hell was he thinking? If that bag had any possibility of being linked to the murder of that girl, they had a responsibility, not only as officers of the law, but also as human beings, to report it.

Nick seemed to read his expression, and it wasn’t the first time Nick had done so since Zane had met him. The man was perceptive as hell. “Okay. You and I will go down there and turn this thing in. If we can keep his name out of it, we will. If not . . . maybe we can use the FBI thing to slip past it. You have your badge?”

“Yeah. What about Ty?”

“We’ll stay here. Make sure he doesn’t die,” Kelly offered, smiling widely.

“That’s . . . that’s comforting, thank you,” Zane drawled.

Kelly shrugged. “I do what I can.”

Ty faded in and out of sleep after Zane left him. It was easier to let whatever was in that IV do its work than to fight it trying to stay lucid. He dozed, never quite sure when he was asleep and dreaming, or when he was awake staring at the ceiling and listening to the beeps and thrums of the busy emergency department.

At times he dreamed of visitors coming to see him. Zane holding his hand. Nick sitting on his bed to laugh at him. Kelly bending over him to check his vitals. Sanchez begging him to wake up and move before they were blown up. Deuce sitting by his bed with his brand new baby girl in his arms. Chester waving a shovel at a nurse.

He would sort out the reality from the hallucinations later.

Something jostled the bed and Ty forced his eyes to open. There was a man sitting on the side of the hospital bed, dressed in blue scrubs and sunglasses.

“Hello, Tyler,” he said, British accent steeped in sarcasm. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Ty jolted in bed, adrenaline racing through him when he recognized his visitor.

“Liam.”

Liam Bell’s lips curved into an evil smirk. Ty tried to sit up, but Liam put a hand on his sternum and shoved him back to the mattress.

“Don’t make a fuss, love, I won’t be long.”

Ty reached to grab at the front of his scrubs, but Liam gripped his wrist, twisting Ty’s arm away and pinning it to the hospital bed.

“You never did handle the hard stuff well,” Liam said as he peered at the little machine that registered Ty’s heart rate. “Calm down, I’m not here to hurt you. Yet.”

Ty’s other hand grasped at him. “Why are you here? How?”

“Haven’t you heard? Revenge is all the rage this season.” He leaned closer to Ty’s face, using his elbow to push into Ty’s chest. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Where have you been?”

Liam smiled crookedly and peered over the tops of his sunglasses, blue eyes shining. “The same place you have, Ty. Hell.”

Ty gasped for air. He couldn’t understand why he couldn’t defend himself, why his breath was so hard to catch. “Did you leave the bag?”

“I don’t intend to kill you when you can’t fight back.” Liam leaned closer, close enough for his breath to gust across Ty’s face. “We shall meet again, Tyler. When you’re well. Until then.”

He pulled away from Ty’s grasp, which was easier than it should have been. Ty struggled to sit up, but Liam was gone.

They went a few blocks before Nick worked up the nerve to broach the subject with his companion, but he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Hey, Zane, I need to apologize to you. For the others.”

Zane glanced at him as they walked, eyebrows raised. “What for?”

“They’re assholes.”

Zane laughed, shaking his head. “They haven’t done anything.”

“Yeah, maybe not. It’s just . . . Ty and I have always been sort of responsible for them, you know?” Nick reached out to stop Zane so he could face him as they spoke. “Look, the guys, they judge pretty harshly. They think you have something to prove.”

Zane’s smile fell. He glanced away, nodding and pressing his lips tightly together.

“They’re wrong, you know.”

Zane looked back at him sharply.

“I’ve seen how you handle yourself. Give it some time; they’ll realize Ty trusts you with his life. They’ll come around.”

He waited for Zane to say something, but the man remained silent, his dark eyes unreadable. At last, Zane licked his lips and smiled weakly. “Thanks,” he said before he started walking again.

They were stepping through the iron gate surrounding the coral-colored 8th district police station on Royal Street when Nick’s phone rang. He dug it out and called for Zane to hold up when he saw it was Kelly.

“Hey,” he answered, giving Zane a shrug when the man made an inquiring gesture with his hands.

“You guys gotta come back here,” Kelly said in a rush. “Ty’s freaking the fuck out, he’s trying to take out his IV and they’re talking about sedating him.”

“What? What happened?”

“He keeps saying he’s
not
hallucinating and you two can’t go to the police. I don’t know, that’s all I can get out of him.”

“What’s going on?” Zane asked.

“I have no idea,” Nick mouthed.

“Just come back here,” Kelly said on the phone. “Maybe Zane can get him calm, because I sure as hell can’t.”

“Okay, we’re on our way.” Nick ended the call and waved at Zane. “Kelly says Ty’s losing it, they need us back there.”

It was almost eight blocks from the station to Tulane Medical Center, but Zane didn’t even hesitate. He took off at a run, and Nick sprinted after him. Taxis in the French Quarter were few and far between, but by the time they crossed Rampart and got to the emergency department doors, Nick was pretty sure they could have carjacked someone and gotten there with less trouble. He had a hard time keeping up with Zane’s long strides.

When they were let into the room, they found Ty sleeping. Owen and Digger were leaning against the supply cabinet on one wall, and Kelly was sitting on Ty’s bed, arms crossed. Everything was calm, except for Nick and Zane gasping as they both tried to catch their breath.

“What the hell, man?” Nick blurted.

Kelly shrugged. “They had to sedate him.”

Nick leaned against the wall, panting.

Zane moved closer, taking Ty’s hand. “What triggered him? What happened?”

“No clue,” Kelly answered. “We barely got any sense out of him.”

“We were in the lobby when a nurse came running out begging for our help,” Owen explained. “When we got back here, three orderlies were holding him down. We tried to tell them he didn’t like being restrained, but they said he’d tried to attack a male nurse who came to take his vitals.”

Zane looked momentarily horrified, but he hid it quickly and gripped Ty’s limp hand tighter.

“When he saw us, he calmed a little, but not enough. The good news, though,” Kelly added, keeping his voice bright. “He passed the stone.”

“Great,” Nick huffed. “Now we just have to wait for him to fucking wake up. How long will that take?”

“Judging by the amount of sedative they gave him and the way Ty reacts to medications?” Kelly looked at the watch on his wrist. He shrugged. “I don’t have a fucking clue.”

Nick glared at him. “I hate you. We ran here. Sprinted.”

Kelly looked him up and down appraisingly. “Good job.”

Digger clucked his tongue and smacked a hand against Nick’s arm. “The only sense we could make out of what he was saying was to get you two the fuck away from the police.”

Nick nodded, looking from Digger to Ty, who lay peacefully now. Zane sat on the chair beside the bed, holding Ty’s hand in both of his. He was staring at Ty’s face, seemingly oblivious to the rest of them.

“Well,” Nick said, at a loss. “Why don’t we, uh . . . we’ll go get some breakfast and . . .” He gestured at Zane, and the others filtered toward the door with him. They left Ty to his sedation and Zane to his vigil.

Ty moved gingerly as Zane walked with him to the hotel room. Zane had never passed a kidney stone, but he’d heard the horror stories. All he knew was that Ty had been lucky to be drugged and having a minor meltdown to distract him during the process.

As they made their way down the hall, Ty reached out to steady himself on Zane’s arm. The medicine he’d been given was still in effect, and he was wobbly and uncertain of his footing.

“Need help?”

Ty shook his head. “No, I’m good.” But he didn’t let go of Zane’s arm. He kept his other hand on his side. Zane wasn’t sure if he was hurting there, or it just made him feel better to hold it.

When they reached their room, Zane wasn’t surprised to see the other men already there. He’d called ahead to let them know Ty was being released, and Nick had a key. They all stood when Ty stepped into the room.

“You okay, Six?” Digger asked.

Ty nodded curtly.

“So,” Kelly said with a smirk. “Psychotic episode is the new prescribed treatment for passing one of these things?”

Ty cleared his throat, his cheeks coloring. “Hallucinations are a bitch when they talk back.”

Zane put his hand on Ty’s arm, offering a modicum of support. Ty’s hand trembled as it hung between them. He clenched it to make it stop.

“I need a cigarette or something,” Ty mumbled.

“My pack’s in my jeans,” Zane offered.

Ty headed for the pile of clothing Zane had discarded the night before. Zane recognized it as more of a distraction than the actual need for a cigarette. It was something for Ty to do with himself, with his hands and his mind, so he had a little bit more time to figure out how to explain his behavior to the rest of them.

He bent gingerly, holding his side as he dug through Zane’s pockets. Everyone else was quiet, waiting, knowing the silence itself would do more to force Ty to talk than any pointed queries. Zane smiled. He kind of liked watching the dynamic of Sidewinder, because even though he still felt like a bit of an outcast, he also knew he was in a room with some of the people who knew Ty best. He was no longer the only one present who would call Ty on his bullshit.

Ty straightened with a grimace once he found the pack and the lighter. He was frowning, holding the piece of paper Zane had wadded up this morning. It took a moment for Zane to remember what it was. He was pretty sure Ty was too high to be bothered by it. He might even find it funny. Ty tapped one of the cigarettes out of the pack and put it in his mouth, then dropped the pack and idly flattened the paper to read.