Ty lowered his head again and blew a stream of smoke down toward his feet. “You sure it’s not broken?” he asked mildly.
Zane shut his eyes and made himself unclench his jaw, because that just made it hurt even more. “No,” he muttered.
Ty turned his head to look at him, examining him in the darkness. It was hard to make out his features, so he probably wasn’t seeing many of Zane’s, either. After a moment, he nodded and looked away. “We’ll get it checked out when we get back,” he said softly.
Zane nodded. He knew better than to think that was the last he’d hear about it, but for now, he sighed. “It’ll help when I can get some sleep,” he said quietly. It was getting ridiculous how much he was saying and thinking that lately.
Ty glanced at him as he blew smoke to the side. “Still with the nightmares?”
“And then some.”
“You stopped seeing the shrink?” Ty asked carefully.
Zane’s nose wrinkled as he peered out into the darkness. “I had a disagreement with the Bureau therapist in Miami.”
Ty was silent, mulling it over. “Like a… personal disagreement?” he finally asked.
“I suppose you could call it that,” Zane said as he sank his cold hands into his jacket pockets. “I thought therapy was supposed to help you recover. It wasn’t.”
Ty looked down at his feet and back at Zane doubtfully. “Why didn’t you talk to me about any of this?” he asked in confusion. “I was getting so pissed at you,” he admitted as he looked away again.
Zane winced. “I don’t know. I knew I’d be changing therapists anyway since I was moving to DC, and I guess I figured you’d tell me to suck it up. I was really hoping I’d just get over it, but….”
Ty glanced at Zane, seeming as if he wanted to say something. He hesitated, starting and stopping several times before he finally took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry I haven’t been a better partner to you, Garrett.”
Zane blinked at him in surprise. “What makes you say that?” This was an odd mirror of the conversation he’d had with Deuce a few nights ago.
Ty exhaled another long stream of smoke and shook his head again. “I backed away when I knew you needed help,” he answered in a low murmur. “I should have stuck with you, whether you wanted me to or not. You’re not a quitter, good or bad,” he said wryly as he handed Zane the half-smoked cigarette as evidence.
“Yeah, well,” Zane drew out. He had no idea what to say to that, but he was relieved to finally get an answer to why Ty had been drifting away from him in DC. Ty simply nodded and looked down at his feet again. Zane huffed quietly, took a last drag off the cigarette, and ground it out on the rock underfoot. He studied Ty’s profile. “You’re a great partner,” he added quietly.
Ty had been looking at his feet diligently, but then he glanced up, a flash of surprise in his expressive eyes. He studied Zane for a moment before nodding. “Likewise,” he whispered.
Some of the tightness Zane had been feeling in his chest since he talked with Deuce relaxed. That wasn’t something Ty would lie to him about just to make him feel better. That was one of the good things about having a partner who was so brutally honest and blunt. When he said something good, Zane knew he meant it.
“I’m working on it,” Zane said just as quietly. When he closed his eyes, he saw that shotgun going off and a shot tearing into Ty’s back as he crumpled forward into the dirt. He blinked his eyes open and reminded himself silently that he’d been in time to stop that from happening.
They sat in silence, feeling the chill settle in the air and listening to the soothing sounds of the mountain. Ty finally lifted his chin slightly and breathed in deeply. “I know how hard it is after you pull that trigger,” he said quietly. “If you need to talk about it….”
Zane very carefully did not turn his chin toward Ty. The very words he’d spoken told Zane several things: Ty was surprised that Zane had shot the man—even though Ty’s life had been at risk—that he thought it had to have been a difficult choice for Zane to make, and that he believed his partner was suffering somehow over taking a life. For a moment, Zane felt a pang of loss for the man he’d been years ago, a man who’d agonized after killing a murderer in the line of duty.
That man was long gone.
Zane sighed softly. Ty thought he was a better man than he really was. Zane wanted him to think that for at least a little while longer.
Ty glanced over at him, looking at him in a way Zane had never seen. He seemed to be contemplating Zane’s reaction, trying to decide how to categorize it. Then he reached out slowly, taking hold of Zane’s shirt and pulling him until their noses almost touched. He turned his head slightly, almost brushing their lips together. Zane could feel the prickle of Ty’s grown-out whiskers against his lips.
“Next time you’re struggling, you tell me,” Ty said quietly. “Don’t care what it’s about. That way I don’t have to guess what you need from me.”
Zane’s lips pressed together hard, and he swallowed with difficulty, not wanting to pull away from Ty even an inch. “I don’t want you to think I can’t back you up,” he said, their lips brushing as he spoke.
“When I think that, you’ll know it,” Ty promised, and he leaned away from him just enough to be able to look him in the eye. “It’s twice now you’ve saved my life,” he reminded in a gruff voice. “Time you stopped thinking of yourself as the weaker half.”
Zane spent a moment studying Ty’s face, his eyes so close, their lips so close. “I’ll try,” he whispered.
Ty nodded, but he didn’t let go of Zane’s shirt, nor did he move away from him.
“You’re pretty damn strong yourself, Ty Grady,” Zane said softly, raising his hand to touch Ty’s scruffy cheek gently. His beard had grown to nearly a full one. It suited him somehow. Zane thought maybe anything would suit Ty. Ty snorted in amusement and released Zane’s shirt. “Strong enough to take care of yourself,” Zane added pointedly.
Ty rolled his eyes. “You think I could have taken care of myself after being shot in the back with a twelve gauge?” he posed.
“That’s why I killed him,” Zane said bluntly.
Ty nodded, still looking into Zane’s eyes unwaveringly. He smoothed down the material of Zane’s shirt that had bunched under his hand and looked away almost regretfully. “That’s why I said thank you,” he pointed out.