Zane appeared in the doorway, pulling on his holster over his shirt, and then stood there looking at him for a long moment. “No,” he said shortly before walking out to the main room.
“Get your ass back here,” Ty snarled at him as he left.
Ignoring him, Zane stopped at the low table in front of the couch and started filling his pockets. Wallet, keys, paper with phone numbers, Holiday Inn key card.
Ty turned and followed unsteadily, furious again. Zane had no f**king right to be pissed off. He watched him, waiting for him to turn around again.
Zane knew Ty was behind him. He also knew Ty was angry, but so was he. He wished Ty hadn’t got hurt, because Ty’s attitude being so reduced bothered him quite a bit. He wished now he’d gone ahead to the hotel. He might as well have had their things if Ty was going to be utterly pissed at him.
Zane turned around and looked at him, waiting.
Ty met his eyes, nostrils flaring as he tried to keep calm. He had actually trusted the f**ker. Even something as small as being slipped Benadryl in his Coke was a huge deal to someone who was accustomed to having his life on the line every day. It was taking a massive effort not to overreact, and it was making his head hurt.
What hurt the most was that he still had to work with Zane—and try to trust him—even after this shit. He took a slow, deep breath. “Tell me you won’t do it again,” he requested after a long moment of silence, his voice finally calm again.
Raising a brow slowly, Zane considered. That wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d figured Ty would blast him or even take a swing at him. But would Zane dose his partner again? Knowing what he did now about how Ty would react physically, there was only one logical answer. “All right,” he said slowly. “I won’t do it again.”
Ty was silent, waiting for more, for an apology of some sort.
“I’m going downstairs to get us some coffee and breakfast,” Zane added. With that he turned and left the room, door snapping shut behind him.
Ty was left standing in the middle of the room, confused by Zane’s anger and feeling betrayed by someone he hadn’t known he’d completely trusted.
Zane was back in twenty minutes, a white bag of food in one hand and a carafe of coffee in the other. He pulled out the key card and opened the door, making sure it shut firmly behind him. Ty wasn’t immediately visible in the suite. A brief survey of all the rooms produced nothing. On closer inspection, however, the Ty-shaped lump under the covers in the bed said that his partner had given up the fight and crawled back under his pillow.
Setting the bag and carafe on the table, Zane felt another flare of anger. Why the hell was Ty doing this? Should he take him back to the hospital? Zane didn’t figure a minor concussion would keep a former Recon Marine down, hence the sleep aid. He was starting to think Ty was seriously hurt, in which case drugging him had been a very bad idea. The anger ebbed briefly, but it was immediately replaced with worry, and then another flare of irrational anger.
Pressing his lips together, he walked through to the bedroom and stood at the side of the bed with his hands on his hips. “Ty, are you getting up or not?”
“Go f**k yourself,” came the muffled, groggy reply.
“I’m not that flexible,” Zane muttered. “You know, I really didn’t think a concussion would keep you down. Why else would I try to get you to sleep and sleep well? It’s been two times this ass**le has gotten close enough to hurt us. You can’t be out of commission and vulnerable.”
“Good thing I’m not the type to drug myself for sleep, then,” Ty’s disembodied voice responded icily from under the pillows.
“I didn’t drug myself, now did I?” Zane said just as coldly. “Get your ass up or I’m going without you.”
“Why the f**k are you pissed off?” Ty asked in an angry, slightly slurred voice as he sat up without first removing the pillow. It flopped melodramatically to the floor, and Ty glared at Zane with narrowed eyes.
“Just tell me that. Why are you pissed at me?”
Zane pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not angry at you,” he said, voice taut with repressed tension. “I’m angry that you got hurt so bad, okay?”
He gritted his teeth. What a f**king useless thing to have to say. Here came the pansy-ass comments again.
But Ty was silent, glowering petulantly for a moment before relaxing a little. “Well, stop taking it out on me, all right?” he finally mumbled. “I’ve got a f**king headache.”
Sighing, Zane sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He could say more, but it wouldn’t make a bit of difference.
“You’re damn right you are,” Ty muttered.
“How do you feel?” Zane asked softly. “Really?”
“I don’t … I don’t really remember much from last night and yesterday,” Ty admitted, his voice low. “And some further back from that.”
“Yeah, I guess you hit your head pretty hard,” Zane said. “So you don’t remember streaking through the room and dancing on the bed?” he asked solemnly.
“Shut up,” Ty shot back with little feeling.
Zane sighed, reaching to push Ty’s hair away from his eyes. Ty’s eyes closed automatically, and he leaned into the touch unconsciously. “I’ll do anything I can to help you feel better,” Zane offered softly. “That doesn’t include drugs, I promise.”
“Ugh,” Ty offered as he rubbed at his eyes.
The vibrating of Ty’s cell phone on the table beside the bed caused him to jerk and jump, then groan plaintively as he slowly laid his head back down and held it in his hands to keep it from spinning.
Zane rubbed Ty’s shoulder soothingly and picked up the phone, snapping it open. “Yeah?” he asked quietly.
“Grady?” the voice on the other end inquired doubtfully.
“No. Who is this?” Zane asked. His voice was low and emotionless.
To him, anyone was a suspect now. Anyone but the man practically in his arms.
“Who the f**k is this?” the voice demanded in outrage. “Where the hell is Ty?”
“Not available. You can talk to me,” Zane answered, his voice flat.
There was silence on the other end of the line. Finally, the voice asked in a low tone, “Is he hurt? Did he get hurt?”
Zane’s brow furrowed, and he looked down at Ty, considering. “He’s okay,” he said noncommittally, but his voice wasn’t as hard.