Cut and Run 1 - Cut and Run by Madeleine Urban Abigail Roux

Author:Madeleine Urban, Abigail Roux [Madeleine Urban, Abigail Roux]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-10-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

The low whir of the air conditioner was the only sound in the well-soundproofed room. There were no crying babies or shouting couples to be heard. The lights had all been turned out, and the drapes were closed against the morning sunlight, allowing only the faintest light to appear around the corners of the heavy fabric. Two bodies sprawled on the king-size bed.

Ty groaned softly and rolled over, burying his head under his pillow to drown out the filtered light. He jerked and pulled his head back with a gasp of pain as the pillow hit the throbbing knot on the back of his head. Suddenly hyper-alert, he pushed up onto his elbows and looked around the room in a near panic, trying to remember where he was.

Eyes blinking open as the bed tossed, Zane pushed himself up slightly. “Ty, it's okay,” he said sleepily. “We're at the hotel."

"Fuck,” Ty groaned as his head whirled unpleasantly. He pushed up onto his hands and knees and closed his eyes, then began crawling clumsily to the edge of the bed.

Zane sat up to watch him move. He hoped the other man didn't fall off the edge of the bed and hit his head again. Zane winced at the thought. But Ty made it off the bed cleanly and staggered into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before he was retching violently.

Zane sighed and rubbed his face. He was screwed. With the concussion, Ty might have been sick like that. But in Zane's experience it didn't hit you so suddenly. Unless he was sensitive to drugs. Shit. And Zane had given him a lot. He dragged himself up and pulled on his jeans. This wasn't going to be pretty; he could feel it in his bones.

Ty was on his knees on the expensive tile, head hanging as he panted for breath. As soon as he'd moved quickly after waking so suddenly his stomach had turned, and he'd known he was going to lose last night's miniscule dinner. As he slumped miserably in front of the toilet, he knew that most likely there was more to this than the concussion. Zane had given him something—probably something to get him to sleep so he could go off on his own and do God knew what. His head hanging in the toilet this morning pretty much confirmed that. Ty had never handled any sort of chemicals well. Even too much Tylenol had a tendency to make him queasy.

As soon as he was sure he wouldn't fall over, he pulled himself to his feet and grabbed the sink counter, holding onto it as he splashed his face with water.

In the outer room, Zane's face was grim. They had a lot to do today, including finding out who had tried to kill them. Again. Deciding not to wait, he started getting dressed. He pulled a T-shirt over his head. He wished briefly for a less shitty start to the morning, but he supposed he only had himself to blame.

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