Home > Touch & Geaux (Cut & Run #7)(38)

Touch & Geaux (Cut & Run #7)(38)
Author: Abigail Roux

“They’re not.”

Zane closed his eyes. “You’re freelancing.”

“Hmm. Juan Carlos de la Vega was contacted earlier this week and told the FBI agent who killed his brother would be here in New Orleans this weekend.”

“By who?”

“Whom.” Liam shrugged, pursing his lips. “I was merely contracted to take care of it.”

That got Zane’s attention, and fast. He raised his head. “I told you, I didn’t kill his brother.”

“No. But Tyler did.” Liam nodded condescendingly. “Don’t look surprised. It’s what he does, Zane.”

“So, what, you’re here to kill him for a paycheck?”

Liam quirked an eyebrow. “Does this low opinion of me come from Tyler, or from my actions, I wonder?”

Zane could only assume that was a rhetorical question, since he could feel where the blood had caked on the back of his head.

“I didn’t know who my target was until I got here, so you can stow the attitude. I can only stall for so long, however. When the job doesn’t get done, more will come. And you know what will happen then.”

Zane clenched his jaw and nodded.

“Now, you’re a smart boy, so I assume you’ve already detected the real problem. For you, that is. It’s not that someone wants to kill Ty.”

“That seems like a real problem to me.”

Liam waved that off. “As you like. The real issue, of course, is de la Vega’s henchmen don’t know what Ty looks like. They will, however, spot your beautiful face from a mile away. And I’m pretty sure they don’t believe in coincidences.”

Zane was silent.

“I’m going to untie you now,” Liam said. He leaned over Zane, still smirking. “You must promise not to try to maim me, because I will put you down.”

Zane snorted. Liam was at least six inches shorter than Zane, with compact, wiry muscles and very little bulk to him. “You’ll put me down?” he repeated, incredulous. Liam nodded. “You and what army?”

Liam grinned wider. He pulled a knife from a sheath in his boot and cut through the zip tie that held Zane’s feet together. As soon as Zane was free, he kicked up, aiming for Liam’s head. Liam blocked the blow with his forearm, then rolled over his own shoulder to crouch several feet away. He was still grinning.

Zane arched his back, pushing himself off the floor so he could pull his tied hands under his body and over his legs, bringing them in front of him as he rolled to his feet. He faced Liam, bent low, ready for an attack.

Liam shook his head. “I’m not here to fight you, love. I do enjoy the feisty ones, so if you’re willing, I’m ready to go. That being said, I’d rather not make you bleed anymore today. I’ll even hand you the phone so you can call Tyler yourself.” He pulled a cell phone from his back pocket and waved it enticingly.

Zane nodded. The man was convincing, but Zane couldn’t help but expect a trap. No one so calm and soothing could be up to any good. “Slide it over.”

Liam placed it on the floor and pushed it. Zane stopped it with his foot, not taking his eyes off Liam.

Liam held up the knife as well. “A peace offering, yes?” He placed it on the ground and shoved it toward Zane too.

Zane bent slowly, not taking his eyes from his opponent as he grasped the knife. He cut the tie on his wrists and then whirled the handle of the knife around his fingers, gripping it so the blade rested along his wrist, ready to fight.

Liam propped his elbow on his knee, resting his chin in his hand. “Feel better now?”

“A little.”

“You’re armed. Go ahead and give Tyler a call. I’m sure he’s burning down the Quarter looking for you by now.”

Zane fumbled with the cell phone, using his free hand without moving his eyes from Liam’s. He hit send twice, assuming it would be Ty’s number. Nerves skittered through him as the phone rang. Liam remained in a crouch. His composure and reassurance were infuriating.

When Ty’s voice mail picked up, Zane frowned harder. “Ty,” he gritted out. “You answer your goddamned phone in the middle of sex but you can’t pick up now?” He jabbed the phone off, cursing.

Liam’s brow creased. “He didn’t answer?”

Zane shook his head.

Liam ran one finger along his lower lip, frowning harder. “Odd, that.”

Zane took deep, calming breaths and tried to push past his whirlwind of thoughts to find a point of clarity. It all boiled down to whether to trust Liam Bell’s word right here and now. And it was hard to a trust a man who’d smashed your skull in and then tied you up.

“Don’t get me wrong, Zane, it’s been a while since I knew him. But with all his faults, he always made a bloody good cavalry. If he’s not answering, he’s in trouble.”

“You’re right,” Zane whispered, hating to agree with the man. If Liam had said the sky was blue right now, Zane would have felt compelled to argue that it was in fact merely refracting light.

“I’ll help you, if you’ll let me.”

Zane shifted from foot to foot, as if the battle in his mind was taking place in his body as well. He finally held up the knife. “I want another one of these. Then we’ll talk.”

Chapter 7

Ty sat on the wrong side of a battered wooden table in a small interrogation room with no air conditioning. He wasn’t handcuffed, not yet, and they’d yet to read him his rights. But he had no illusions about being able to get up and walk out. The easiest way out of this would be to identify himself as an FBI agent and be done with it. But there were too many risks, too many loose threads left over from his days undercover, and he’d have to play the part he’d once played down here until he had more information.

He had some time if Liam intended to meet him at 2 AM.

The door creaked as it opened, and the same detective from the hotel sauntered in and tossed a heavy file on the table. An officer pulled the door closed behind him. Ty’s eyes strayed to the door as it clicked shut. They had him under guard. His knee began to bounce and he forced himself to stop.

He met the detective’s eyes, sprawling in his chair in a casual, insolent pose.

“Surprised to see you crawling to town,” the detective said.

Ty clucked his tongue. When he spoke, it was with the same affected drawl he’d perfected while undercover years ago. “Detective Poirot, wasn’t it?”

“Poirier. But you can call me Sir. It’ll be Boss here soon. Soon as we get you in chains.”

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