Ty kept his eyes front and center, not looking in the mirror because he knew this man would be able to read him.

“Captured in Afghanistan, I’d wager. How long were you held?”

“I wasn’t.”

It was the same bullshit line Ty always gave when the subject came up. That operation was still classified. The answer, though, the answer only he, Nick O’Flaherty, and that weird little guy from Homeland Security knew, was twenty-three days, nine hours, and fifty-one minutes.

Ty glanced up to see Julian’s reflection. His dark eyes seemed sympathetic. Ty looked to Cameron in the mirror—the young man had gone pale with the implication. Even though Ty had denied it, they both knew what Julian had said was true. Ty nodded, not intending to discuss the matter any further.

Maybe now Julian Cross would realize that Ty knew something about trying to escape.

“I’M DRIVING. I get to choose the music.”

“No,” Ty said as he continued to flip through the radio, searching for a station.

Cameron raised a brow as Zane smacked Ty’s fingers and then hit the preset button, returning the radio to the classic rock station.

“Dude!” Ty said as he pushed the button next to it and turned the dial to find the station he’d just had it on. “Pay attention to the road.”

Zane hit the first button again. “Sit back, copilot. You had sports talk all morning.” He sounded calm, though Cameron couldn’t see how he maintained it. Dealing with Ty on a regular basis had to be grounds for anger management classes. Or homicidal tendencies. Maybe that was what was wrong with Zane.

“So did you,” Ty said as he hit another button at random. Cameron could see a smirk on his face as he looked at Zane. It was obvious now that he didn’t care what they were listening to, he was just pushing buttons. Since Cameron was sitting behind Zane, he couldn’t really see Zane’s face to gauge his reaction, but his next poke at the first button didn’t seem angry.

Cameron glanced at Julian. “You and Preston have such a different relationship than them.”

“There are so many ways that statement is correct,” Julian said in a bored voice. He wasn’t paying the two agents much attention. Or didn’t appear to be.

Ty pushed another button and turned up the volume. Zane hit the first button again but didn’t mess with the volume. Cameron tipped his head to look into the rearview mirror at Zane’s reflection. He couldn’t be sure, but there might have been a smile on Zane’s lips.

“How long have you two been partners?” Cameron asked. There was absolutely nothing about the landscape passing by to hold his interest after the first five minutes, and Julian was sulking or plotting, or both, so he might as well try to talk to them. Julian had told him to try and converse as much as possible; it would put their guard down, enable Julian to glean information, and make Ty and Zane less likely to hurt Cameron.

Ty jabbed at another button and put his hand over the radio controls so Zane couldn’t touch them. “Too damn long,” he said to Cameron.

“You love me,” Zane said in a tone that was practically cheerful, and Cameron couldn’t help but grin as Zane used the button on the steering wheel to turn the station.

Julian turned his head to look at Zane’s reflection in the rearview mirror, and then at Ty.

Ty was watching Zane, eyes narrowed. He finally retaliated by turning off the radio and huffing at his partner.

“Come on, how long?” Cameron asked again. If he had anything going for him, it was that he was persistent. Julian could attest to that.

“About eight months,” Ty said as he continued to eye Zane.

“Eleven months,” Zane corrected.

“Uh huh,” Cameron said, doubtful of the veracity of either statement.

“It’s been eight months, official. By your logic it’s almost two years.”

“What?” Cameron asked.

“There was a short break in there,” Zane said. “We didn’t get along very well on our first assignment.”

Cameron snorted. “And how is that different from now?”

“You heard him,” Ty said with a sarcastic edge to his words. “I love him now.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Cameron said, looking between them. Zane was actually smiling. It looked like he enjoyed needling his partner as much as his partner enjoyed needling him. “Why stay together if you didn’t get along very well?”

“They were assigned, Cameron. They don’t get to pick and choose,” Julian said in a gentle voice.

“Well, but surely their boss wouldn’t make them work together if they hated each other,” Cameron said. “They do carry guns, after all.”

“Do we look like we hate each other?” Zane asked.

Cameron held up his hand and waggled it from side to side in a so-so motion. “Sometimes, maybe.”

“He can’t tell what you look like with that beard,” Ty said as he turned his head to look at Zane. Cameron could see him smirking again.

Zane’s head turned toward Ty, and Cameron imagined it was so Zane could glare at him. “What’s that have to do with it?”

“You look like a lumberjack.”

Zane shrugged one shoulder. “‘I’m a lumberjack and I’m okay,’” he answered in a low singsong voice.

“Stop,” Ty said with real urgency.

“Please,” Julian added.

Zane chuckled, and to Cameron’s ear it sounded a little on the evil side. “You want to sing instead?” Zane asked as he glanced sideways at his partner.

“If I sing, I’ll sing whatever I damn well want to. Might as well listen to my radio station.”

“Nope,” Zane said, and again Cameron wondered about his apparent saintly level of patience.

After leaning back, Cameron looked over at Julian. “They almost sound like you and Blake, sometimes. When Blake really gets on a roll.”

“Must you continue to compare me with either of them in any scenario?” Julian asked as he looked at Cameron earnestly.

Cameron shrugged. “I have a small frame of reference for people who kill things.”

“You sing for hundreds of people sitting in the stands at a ballgame, but you won’t sing now,” Zane was saying.

“No, I’m not going to sing,” Ty said, incredulous as he glared at Zane.

“Why not?” Zane asked.

Cameron leaned toward the middle of the seat so he could peer through at Zane. He looked relaxed, left hand loose on the wheel, right hand free and resting on his thigh. A year ago, Cameron wouldn’t have thought anything about that. Now, it occurred to him that Zane was probably keeping his hand free so he could draw his gun. Cameron frowned and sat back.




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