Touch & Geaux (Cut & Run 7) - Page 73/82

Finally, he buried his face against Zane’s shoulder and gasped, choking out Zane’s name. His body locked up and he shoved in deep, shaking all over but still rocking as he climaxed.

Zane closed his eyes, drinking it in, sharing it with his lover. He shifted his hips and arched his back in an attempt to extend the pleasure.

Ty sagged over him, struggling for air, but each time he got half a breath, his chest caught and an aftershock tore through him. Zane could feel it echoing through Ty to himself.

After several long moments, Ty pulled out of him with a sound that was almost a sob and collapsed at his side.

Zane lay where he was, unable to move even if he’d wanted to. He snaked a hand across the short distance between them and slid his fingers into Ty’s. Ty’s hand closed around his with a gentle squeeze.

“I just need to be able to trust you, Ty,” he whispered.

“You can. I swear you can. I’d die for you, Zane.”

Zane’s heart was in his throat as he studied Ty’s profile. “I know.”

Chapter 14

Ty had a handful of cartridges laid out in front of him, some the .40 caliber rounds for Zane’s Glock, and some the high-powered, armor-piercing monstrosities that loaded Liam’s sniper rifle. Ty wished they could have found less deadly ammunition, but this was all they had to work with.

He had converted three of Zane’s shots to blanks, though having done it without the proper equipment they might still pack a little bit of a punch. He’d taken the bullet out, leaving nothing but the charge, and packed them with newspaper to seal the powder in the case.

That wad of newspaper would come out like any other projectile, and the muzzle blast would still be powerful. It wouldn’t kill him, though.

He was just finishing the round that Liam would be firing at him, creating a makeshift hollow-point that should expand and break up when it hit the resistance of the vest. He cut the hollow of the jacket to weaken it so it would expand like a flower on impact, rather than penetrate deeply. Without the vest, the sharp petals of the flower would slice through flesh two to three times the size of the original bullet.

If Liam missed, it was going to be ugly.

He lifted his head as Liam stepped into the room. The man looked around at their preparations, an eyebrow raised.

He stopped in front of Digger and Owen. “What in God’s name is that?”

“Ketchup. And some other stuff,” Digger answered. He and Owen had spent all morning filling quart bags with the concoction. “Barbecue sauce, Crisco. Chocolate powder and water.”

Ty’s nose curled as the list went on. It sounded like something Digger would cook and serve at home.

They put enough of the sauce in each bag to let them remain slim when sealed and flattened. Then they duct-taped the bags to the outside of the Kevlar vest.

Liam picked up one of the bags and squished it. “Marines are disgusting.”

“Hey,” Owen grunted.

“I have to agree right now,” Nick said. He had a quart tub of Crisco and had been mixing it with diaper cream and chocolate powder to make face paint. The diaper cream had an especially unpleasant smell. “We’re putting this on our faces.”

Liam shuddered and poked at the vest Ty would be wearing.

“What about the back?”

Digger shrugged. “We got no way of doing that without wiring Ty with some small explosives.”

“Fuck no,” Ty said immediately.

Liam snorted. “It’ll have to do.”

The vest itself was white, made to look like a T-shirt beneath other clothing. It reduced one layer, but with the Kevlar and the slimy bags of fake blood, Ty’s mobility would still be cut down. He wasn’t meant to be mobile, though; he simply had to stand there and die.

His stomach tumbled with nerves and he wiped a hand over his face. “Did you scout the location?” he asked Liam.

Liam sauntered over and sat opposite him, nodding. “I have a nice little nest all set up on—”

“Don’t tell me where,” Ty interrupted. “If I get nervous, I’m afraid I’ll look at you.”

“Okay. There’s graffiti everywhere, so I put a big black X on the pavement where you’re meant to stand. Try to get as close as you can to it, yeah?”

Ty nodded. He picked up the bullet he’d just finished and held it up for Liam to see. “Hollow-point round.” He held up another, one he hadn’t messed with. “Armor-piercing round.” He waved them together. “Do not get these mixed up.”

Liam chuckled, then leaned closer, sighing heavily and meeting Ty’s eyes. “Tyler, if I wanted you dead, I would have done when it was easy to kill you.” He plucked the fragmenting round from Ty’s fingers. “We have no way of marking it.”

“No. Any etchings on the outside will f**k with the spin. Hell, I’m even afraid to mark it with a Sharpie.”

Liam was humming, turning the bullet over. He clutched it in his hand, then patted the back of Ty’s neck, pulling his head to press their foreheads together. Ty closed his eyes. Months of their time spent together in arid camps in Kabul and damp training installations in the south of England came back to him. He’d trusted this man.

“You did this for me once,” Liam murmured. “It’s time I return the favor.”

Ty nodded, swallowing hard.

Liam’s voice dropped lower. “And if you want to stay dead, I’ll always be a call away.” He released Ty and stood.

Ty sat back, eyes still closed as he fought for calm. He felt Liam moving away. The front door opened and snicked shut again, and just like that, Liam Bell was gone.

Ty took a deep, unsteady breath and glanced up.

Zane was standing in the bedroom door, watching him. “You okay?”

Ty nodded.

“I’m about to make the calls,” Zane said. The activity in the room died down, everyone stopping to look at Zane. “Is everyone ready?”

Ty looked around, taking in the faces of the men he’d called his friends, the men he’d loved like brothers and spilled blood for. And then Zane. The only man Ty had ever truly given his heart to. If there was anyone to make a last stand with, it was the men in this room.

“We’re ready.”

Zane sat astride Liam’s Honda Shadow, a bandana with a menacing skull printed on it pulled over his face. Ty sat behind him, his hands looped over Zane like a seatbelt, tied at the wrists. They had a pillowcase over his head, a large smiley face drawn on it.