Cut and Run 08 Ball & Chain (42 page)

Ty, Nick, and Kelly were still in their dress blues. Zane had loosened his tie and removed his suit coat because he refused to be in a funeral suit longer than he had to be. They’d retreated from the graveyard and taken up residence in a local tavern, one Ty had apparently frequented when he’d been based in Washington, DC.

Zane was drinking Coke. Ty had ordered a scotch to toast Richard Burns, but after that he’d stuck to Dr Pepper. Zane had caught a glance between Ty and Nick that spoke clearly to the fact that Nick had read Ty the riot act at some point about drinking in Zane’s presence.

Nick and Kelly were drinking water. Zane didn’t know whether to be grateful to them or to be pleased that these men, men who reportedly had always been hard-drinking, hard-partying hooligans, would refrain for him.

Either way, he’d given them each a nod in recognition of what they were doing.

“I can’t believe all this shit circles back to me,” Zane said, staring at the tabletop.

“If you pull one of those ‘everyone I love dies, let me disappear’ moves on me, I’ll hunt you down,” Ty told him.

Zane laughed sadly. “Noted.”

“This is the mole,” Ty told him, almost growling. “He knew Burns was closing in on him. He’s the only one could have known enough information to feed to de la Vega and pull this shit off.”

“This the same mole who made the mess in New Orleans?” Kelly asked.

Zane nodded, still staring. “This isn’t going to end until the cartel is gone. Or I am.”

The table fell silent, and the sounds of the noisy tavern began to fade until Zane was sitting in the silence of his own head, staring at the wood grain of the table.

“So this de la Vega guy,” Nick finally said. Zane raised his head, blinking away the deep reverie he’d been lost in. Nick was lounging in the corner of their booth, his arm around Kelly’s shoulder, his other hand on the table like he was accustomed to sitting with people he didn’t hide his hands from. He tapped his fingers and met Zane’s eyes. “How do we take him out?”

Zane smiled. “That’ll just have to wait until after your little surgery, now won’t it?”

Nick rolled his eyes and took a sip of water. He was donating his liver to a father who had terrorized him all his life. He was a better person than Zane, that was for sure. Zane would’ve sat back and watched the man die.

“We’ll investigate from our end,” Ty said, sounding determined and a little scary. Zane liked it. “To get to de la Vega, we have to get to the mole. That’s our first move.”

They all nodded, glancing around at each other.

“Does that mean you’re coming back to the FBI?” Zane asked Ty.

Ty shook his head. “We both know I can’t. I think what you call me now would be the Wild Card.”

Zane met his lover’s eyes, thrilled to see the life back in them. Whatever had happened to Ty and Sidewinder out there, it had sapped the joy out of all of them, taken the very thing that made them capable of walking through Hell and doused it. But now, looking at these three men, with a purpose given to them once more, with a mission, Zane could see that fire returning.

De la Vega had poked the wrong hornet’s nest this time.

Nick fought to open his eyes when he heard voices. He finally managed to make his head fall to the side and peered through his eyelashes to see who was in the room. The motion must have drawn attention, because the voices stopped and the room fell silent.

Nick closed his eyes again.

A moment later a cool hand was on his forehead. “Nick?” the voice whispered. “Wake up, babe.” When Nick finally got both eyes open, Kelly was smiling down at him. He grazed his fingers along Nick’s cheek and bent to whisper in his ear. “Lots of people here to see you.”

A separator curtain screeched as it was pulled across the room to give them a little more privacy. He was still groggy as hell, and it took him a long time to focus, and an even longer time to understand what was going on. He’d given a piece of his liver, one he’d managed to keep healthy by some miracle, to his father. It hadn’t even really been a choice for him. As soon as the tests came back saying he was a good match, he knew he had to do it.

His father would live on, whether he deserved to or not. Nick’s conscience was clear, and the missing piece of his liver would eventually grow back. He hoped.

Almost a dozen people were crowded around, all holding some form of “special delivery” baby presents.

He started to laugh but had to stop when pain threatened. “Assholes.”

Ty and Zane were both there, as were Owen and Digger. Nick had known they would be, though, because they’d flown in last night to be with him before the operation. Digger stood at the foot of the bed, and Owen was sitting in the corner holding a huge teddy bear that hid most of his body. When he realized Nick was awake, he stood and placed the bear in the chair to move closer.

“How you feeling, O?” Digger asked.

“Like less of a man,” Nick said, drawing laughs from the others.

“You look it,” Digger told him, and held up a jar filled with liquid and some sort of . . . stuff.

Ty quickly grabbed the jar and hid it from sight. “Dude, no.”

“Gator livers!”

“No.”

“They’ll help his grow back faster!”

“Definitely no.”

Nick groaned and tossed his head to the side, trying to purge that visual from his mind before that visual purged his stomach.

“So gross,” Ty muttered, and he left the room with the jar under his arm.

The rest of them were still laughing when Ty returned, and Nick finally managed to look back to the foot of the bed without feeling the need to throw up.

Kat and Erin were standing there, both of them with bouquets filled out with baby’s breath, little pink daisies, and balloons. They giggled as they placed the dainty arrangements on the table near the wall. Even Nick’s oldest nephew, Patrick, had come with them. He was snickering gleefully when he handed Nick a card that everyone had signed. It read, “Congratulations on your special delivery.”

“What’d you guys do, send out a memo?” Nick asked, still trying to avoid laughing.

“It seemed appropriate,” Ty said. He held up a bouquet of cookies on sticks, all of them in the shape of baby bottles, shoes, and bonnets, then set it down on the table next to Nick. The vase read “For the Little One.”

Owen tapped Nick’s foot, then gestured between him and Kelly. “You two got some ’splainin’ to do, Lucy.”

Nick’s stomach dropped. “Who told you?”

“Doc couldn’t stop pacing in the waiting room. Finally, he just blurted out that he needed a hug because he loved you and he was freaking out.”

Nick managed a warm smile. “You okay with it?”

Owen nodded, pursing his lips. “Okay enough to provide hugs in waiting rooms, I guess. I’ll reserve my final judgment for the whole story. Assuming I’m going to get it?”

Nick nodded. Digger wrapped an arm around Owen’s shoulders and patted his chest like he was proud of him.

Kelly chuckled. He held to Nick’s hand tighter. “When Nick can have a beer again, we’ll sit you down and explain all you want.”

Owen seemed satisfied with that. Nick found his throat getting tighter. He no longer had any secrets from any of them. His conscience was clear again, and it was a massive weight off his mind and soul. All he could do was nod and blink back tears of relief.

The only thing that didn’t fit the theme was the gift Zane had brought him. It was a box of shotgun shells, the right kind for Nick’s Ithaca 37 pump action. They were green-tipped, though, with little radioactive symbols etched on them.

“Zombie rounds,” Zane told him, tongue in cheek. “In case you came out of the surgery mostly dead.”

This time Nick laughed even though it hurt. He held to his side gingerly, trying to keep from laughing harder. “These should come in handy, Garrett. Thanks.”

“I also brought you season one of
The Walking Dead
. We’ll sit and watch while you recover.”

“Is this . . . zombie bonding?” Ty asked.

Nick grinned up at Zane, nodding. “A man after my own heart.”

“I thought zombies were after brains,” Kelly said wryly. He pointed at Zane. “You stay away from his heart, that’s mine.”

The group chuckled. Nick rolled his eyes and closed them again, still smiling. And while he could hear the others shuffling around and murmuring quietly, he couldn’t force his eyes back open. “Thanks for coming guys. I’m sorry I can’t . . . stay.”

Kelly’s hand came to rest on his forehead again, then slipped down to cover his eyes so he’d stop struggling to try to open them. “They’ll be back when you’re not out of it, okay? Sleep.”

Each visitor came up to the bed and gave Nick some sort of touch before leaving, whether it was a kiss on the forehead from his sisters, a squeeze of the shoulder from Owen, or a gentle fist bump from his nephew. They all seemed to know what the contact would mean to him regardless of whether he could drag his eyes open to see them again. Ty leaned over him and hugged him tightly, pressing his cheek to Nick’s and calling him brother, telling him he loved him. Zane petted his head affectionately.

He heard them file out until the room felt empty.

Kelly’s fingers drifted down his arm, making Nick smile. “The surgery went well,” Kelly told him. “Your dad’s in ICU, but he’s doing fine. They’ll be bringing him in here later on, so don’t be surprised if he shows up.”

Nick nodded. He could honestly say that he didn’t care how his dad was doing. He’d done everything in his power to give him a fighting chance, and the man was on his own from now on. Nick was done with him. He squeezed Kelly’s hand and took a deep, painful breath.

“Did you really mean it when you said you were done carrying a gun?” Kelly whispered.

Nick forced one eye open. A frown marred Kelly’s features, and his eyes were sad and sympathetic. He leaned closer to Nick.

“I don’t want you to give up something you love because of me. And I’m worried that’s what you’re doing.”

Nick forced both tired eyes open and blinked hard, trying to keep them from watering. “Kelly.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Kelly asked. “Because in a few months you’ll be mostly healed up. In a year you’ll be whole again. The Boston PD would take you back in a heartbeat, and you’re one hell of a detective. You’re a better detective than you were a Marine, and Nick, that’s saying something because you were one hell of a fucking Marine.”

“Doc.”

“That’s saying a hell of a thing, you know? And you don’t just give up on something you’re that good at, Nick, you don’t.”

“Kels.”

“You’ve always liked your job. And you love a mystery. You’re not happy without a mystery to solve.”

“
You’re
a mystery,” Nick said. He reached up to trail his fingertips down Kelly’s face. “I’d have you.”

Kelly snorted.

“I want us to start something, Kels. You and me. Something we’ll live through. Something we’ll grow old doing. We can’t do that if I’m a cop.”

Kelly bit his lip, and his eyes were just as misty as Nick’s. “Are you sure?”

Nick didn’t answer. He was staring at Kelly, completely smitten, wondering why it had taken him so fucking long to realize he loved the man.

“I’d do anything with you, Kels. Anything you wanted.”

Kelly grasped Nick’s face in his hands. “I’ve been trying to figure something out. You see, I can tell you I love you, and it’s the same words I’ve always said to you from the first day I realized you’d have my back in a firefight. I love you, brother. Those are the same words I say to Six and Digger and Ozone. You know? They were the same words I said to Eli the last time he called. They were the same words my parents said the night they left and died in the rain.”

“Kelly,” Nick managed to say as tears began to fall for some reason. He pressed his hand to Kelly’s cheek. A tear hit his thumb and he realized they were both crying.

“But I don’t understand why those are the same words I have to use for a feeling that’s not the same anymore,” Kelly continued, his voice lower, more intimate and more confused. “I . . . I
need
you. I adore you. I want to wake up every morning and make you fix me breakfast so I can watch you cook. I want to . . . I want to spend the rest of my life with you doing things that make life worth living. I want to make you smile. I want you to take me to every baseball stadium out there and teach me every single little thing you know about the game because I love the way your eyes light up when you talk about it. I want to . . . what words do I use for this feeling if ‘I love you’ has already been used?”

Nick tried to swallow against the lump in his throat and couldn’t. He shook his head, at a loss. He stared into Kelly’s eyes for long moments before finally attempting to speak. “How about . . . marry me?”

Kelly smiled and wiped at his eyes. “Okay.”

Kelly bent to kiss him, his lips barely grazing Nick’s. Then he kissed him harder, stopping only to sniffle and wipe his cheeks again, using Nick’s hospital gown to do it. He rested his head on Nick’s shoulder, and Nick wrapped a clumsy arm around his neck.

“I love you, Nick,” Kelly whispered. “No matter what those words meant before, we know what they mean now. They’re ours now. Just ours.”