Zane shook his head. He would just have to come to terms with the fact that he would always play second fiddle to killer felines.

“Oh God, it’s good to be home,” Ty said with a groan as he eased himself onto the couch and sprawled. Zane sat next to him with a sigh. They were both so banged up it was nearly impossible to do anything but lean against each other. Ty pressed his lips to Zane’s temple. “You want to talk about it?”

Zane stared at the room around them. They’d already made so many memories here, some of them stored in photos and trinkets, others only residing in Zane’s mind. It was a life he’d never expected to have, colorful and easy and bright. He shook his head. “I just keep wondering . . . would I have been like her? If Becky hadn’t died, if you hadn’t . . .”

“Zane.”

“Would I have turned into her, Ty? Would that have been me?”

Ty wrapped his arm around Zane’s shoulders and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, Zane. There are . . . there are so many paths in life. Some we choose, and some are chosen for us. We walk our paths without looking down and that’s the life we lead. The only things you’ll get from guessing where another path would have gone are questions you can’t answer and heartache you can’t ever soothe.”

Zane met Ty’s eyes, gazing at him as a sense of calm seeped into his bones. He smiled. “You’re like a damn walking fortune cookie, you know that?”

Ty smiled, and Zane kissed him. He was right; it was good to be home.

Ty broke the kiss with a gasp when it got too heated for his injuries. He hummed and cocked his head. “Do you hear the cats?”

“No, actually.”

Ty sat up and called for Smith and Wesson again, then got up and headed for the stairs, looking up and frowning. Usually when the door opened, the cats came running. If it was Ty, they would swarm his legs, rubbing against him, purring so loudly they seemed to vibrate the floor. If it was Zane, they would both sit down to stare at him disapprovingly. They would watch him as he moved around the house, growling or hissing if he came too close to one of Ty’s things, and they wouldn’t leave him unattended until Ty got home.

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It was odd that they hadn’t come when Ty’d called the first time. Even more so that they’d allowed Zane to cuddle with Ty on the couch for that long without trying to bleed him dry.

Ty headed for the basement door, but he stopped short when he passed the kitchen counter. He picked up a manila envelope and his breath caught.

“What is it?” Zane asked. He stood and followed. A sense of dread settled in the pit of his stomach as he watched Ty’s expression fall.

Ty shook his head and cleared his throat. “It’s from Cross. He says thanks for watching his boys. He came and got them.” Ty pressed his lips together hard as he read the rest of the note.

“Oh, Ty,” Zane said as he moved closer. He put his arm around Ty’s shoulder and hugged him. He had dreaded this day, knowing it would break Ty’s heart when those stupid, scheming, evil cats were gone.

Ty nodded, still looking at the note on the envelope. Zane thought he might be fighting back tears. First, he’d had to leave Barnum behind, and now Smith and Wesson were gone too.

“What’s inside?” Zane whispered.

Ty shook his head and handed the package to Zane. Zane squeezed his shoulder before taking it and reading the rest. Cross’s note was longer than the original he’d scribbled when he’d left Smith and Wesson and a bowl of cat food in Ty’s kitchen. The prose was odd and stilted, but it didn’t strike Zane as unusual for Julian Cross. That was the way the man spoke. He’d thanked them for treating the cats well, wished them both the best in life, and apologized for taking so long. He ended by saying, “Nice car.”

Zane looked out the window of the back door, frowning. “Nice car,” he said, beginning to smile. His father had made good on his promise to have the Mustang delivered to Baltimore. That would ease some of Ty’s distress.

He opened the package from Cross and slid the contents onto the counter. A picture frame slid out. It matched the frames on Ty’s walls perfectly, down to the color and style of the matting. In it was a photograph of the two massive orange cats, green eyes staring at the camera like they could burn a hole through the lens.

Ty reached for the picture. He was close to tears, but he was smiling too.

There was more in the package, and Zane dumped the rest out. Several heavy metal emblems slid onto the counter. Ty picked one up, turning it over. They were classic Mustang emblems, the patina and weight marking them as originals and not recasts.

Ty began to laugh, shaking his head. “Bastard,” he said, almost fondly. “Somewhere there’s a Shelby owner who is very pissed off right now.”

Zane reached under Ty’s chin to lift his head and meet his eyes. “I’m sorry about Smith and Wesson.”

Ty gave him a sad smile and nodded. “I knew he’d come get them eventually. I’m sorry your mom’s a raging bitch.”

Zane shrugged. “We all have our little problems.”

Ty snorted and stepped closer, resting his chin on Zane’s shoulder with a sniff.

Zane hugged him tight. “I have something that might make you feel better.”

Ty turned his face into Zane’s neck and inhaled deeply. “Does it involve you in a Stetson?”

“That too.” Zane moved away, heading for the bags they’d dropped at the door. He rummaged through his laptop case and came out with a thick plastic protective sleeve. He couldn’t help but grin when he handed it to Ty.

Ty took it warily. He’d no doubt been expecting something fun like glow-in-the-dark spurs or a stolen lasso. He popped the sleeve open and pulled the contents out without asking any questions. As soon as he saw the picture, he began to laugh.

Zane grinned wider. Before they’d left Texas, Tish had sent it to the house as a thank-you and Harrison had brought it to Zane along with the legal papers. It was a picture taken by one of the Roaring Springs interns when Ty had visited the second time. In the photo, he stood inside Barnum and Bailey’s enclosure, and all that could be seen was the side of his face and his broad shoulders, his stance wide to hold the weight of the tiger. Barnum was standing on both feet, hugging him. The tiger’s massive paws held onto Ty’s back and his head rested on Ty’s shoulder. His floppy ear lay against Ty’s hair.

Zane had laughed and laughed when he’d seen the photo, and he hadn’t been able to resist making a call to the sanctuary.




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