The door at his side opened up, and Ty took his elbow gently. “Watch the curb when you step down. Itll come up fast,” he mumbled, sounding as if he was looking down at the ground as he spoke.
Zane turned in the seat and set one foot down. He could feel the soft decline of the curb and shifted his foot a little farther forward before pushing himself out of the seat to stand. Ty got him onto the sidewalk, gave him a pat on the shoulder, then removed his hand from Zanes elbow. Zane heard Ty talking briefly to the cabbie.
Shifting carefully, Zane moved further away from the car and waited. He could tell by the familiar smell of Italian restaurants in Little Italy that they were at his apartment. He also knew which way the front door to the apartment was, but he didnt know how far away it was. And there were steps and a railing and a bench and some broken concrete in the sidewalk and what if it was almost garbage day and there was a trash can at the curb? Zane groaned. His battered brain was channeling Ty.
“Here,” Ty said, surprising Zane out of his circling thoughts. Ty took Zanes hand and pressed something into it. “Use that,” he instructed as he held Zanes hand around a curved wooden grip.
Zane realized it was the umbrella he kept beside the door to his apartment. He frowned and curled his fingers around the handle, moving it slightly in front of him. It definitely wasnt a cane, but he figured if he moved it in front of him it would hit something before he did. “Good idea,” he murmured.
“I know,” Ty responded easily, a smile evident in his voice. He took Zanes elbow and turned him. “Take your time, shuffle your feet when youre not certain. If you hesitate or anticipate, youre more liable to trip over nothing,” he advised.
Zane grimaced. “Right,” he murmured as he took a breath and took a couple steps. He could feel the hard surface under his feet, so at least he was on the walk. Although he felt like a complete idiot, he swung the umbrella carefully in front of him, the end down around his knees. When he hit something metal that clanged, he stopped in surprise, trying to remember what it could be.
“Just the railing,” Ty said at his side. “Steps,” he added as his grip tightened on Zanes elbow. Zane still paused. “How far? Step up now?”
“Yes,” Ty answered curtly. “Kick out with your toes to find it.”
Zane lifted his foot, kicked, finding the front of the step, and then he put his foot on it, somewhat surprised when it worked. He repeated the motion two more times and stopped. “Thats all, right?”
“Yep,” Ty answered, and he let go of Zanes arm. The sound of the keys in the door followed, and the door squeaked as it opened. Ty took his arm again, but he didnt pull him. “Come on,” he instructed. “Dont drag your feet, theres a doorjamb.”
“Youve done this before, havent you?” Zane said, following the directions and getting inside without a problem.
“When I was little,” Ty answered in a softer voice. “Well use the umbrella until I can find something better.”
Zane frowned again and placed one hand against the wall he knew was to his right side. “No one in your family is blind.” “My great-grandmother. She died when I was fourteen.” Zane nodded and started moving, letting his hand skim along the wall. He knew he had several feet until he got to a bookshelf. He was on the main drag through the apartment. It led to the kitchen in front of him. He was in the living room, and after the bookshelves there was a hallway to the right with four doors: two bedrooms, a closet, and a bathroom. He didnt really have much furniture, so what trouble could he get into?
“At least I know where stuff is in my own house,” he murmured as he walked until his hand met the wood of the shelves.
“Thats kind of the idea, sport,” Ty murmured from somewhere in front of him. Zane deliberately closed his eyes to visualize the couch and chairs, and then he swept the space in front of him before taking two careful steps to stop right behind the sofa. He trailed his fingers over it as he walked around the side, and with a sigh of relief he sank down onto it.
Ty patted him on the head as soon as he was down, like he would a dog whod performed a trick correctly. His voice was the only way to tell where he was. He didnt seem to make any other noise when he moved. No footsteps, no swish of clothing, no cracking bones or creaking joints. Nothing. Eerie. Vintage Ty.
“Want food? Its not too late yet,” Ty asked as he moved away. “Yes,” Zane said fervently as he lightly batted after Tys hand. “There was nothing wrong with me and still they wanted to feed me broth and Jell-O.”
“Jell-Os good,” Ty argued from the kitchen.
“Not when youre starving, its not,” Zane shot back. He kicked off his shoes, making sure to carefully push them under the old coffee table before he stripped off his socks and propped his legs up. He leaned his head against the back of the couch. With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine it was a Sunday afternoon and he was just being lazy instead of it being Monday night after the day from the third ring of hell.
“Well, what do you want?” Ty asked in something close to annoyance. His voice had moved. He was standing right in front of Zane.
Zane twitched in surprise and his eyes flew open. “Christ, Ty,” he complained.
“What?” Ty asked defensively. “Im hungry!”
“Its a good thing Ive calmed down recently,” Zane told him. “If Id had my gun, Id have pulled it.”
“What are you talking about?”
Zane shook his head and wiped one hand over his face. “Order deep dish from Isabellas. They should still be open.”
Ty pressed a phone into Zanes hand. “Here. I need ibuprofen,” he said as his voice trailed away. “Kitchen cabinet next to the sink,” Zane said distractedly as he ran his fingers over the buttons, trying to figure out how to do this. It was easier to do with his eyes closed, even though he couldnt see anyway. After two aborted attempts, he got the number he had memorized into the phone and made the order for delivery.
He could hear Ty banging around and rattling the bottle of ibuprofen. He heard him open and close the refrigerator. Then he stopped making noise again. A few seconds later, Zane heard the pop and hiss of a carbonated drink being opened just a few feet away.
Zane turned his face that way. “You know, I knew you could be scary. I just didnt realize how f**king scary. I didnt hear you move. At all.”
“What?” Ty asked in the same distracted, slightly confused tone of voice hed used earlier. “You want a drink?” he offered belatedly. “Ill wait for pizza. I said, youre so quiet when you move I didnt hear you at all. Even footfalls in the carpet, and I know how to listen for those things.”