Page 34 of Shock & Awe

He swung the door open, feeling stupid and clumsy as the man turned to face him.

“O’Flaherty?”

Nick gave him a wan smile and held up his hand. “No one’s hurt.”

Zane glared at him. He wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. And he wasn’t sure whether to hug him or hit him.

Nick laughed at Zane’s expression, the sound flat and tired. “Nothing’s wrong, I promise.”

Zane looked him up and down, inspecting him for injuries that would have sent him home. None were visible. “Why are you here? How are you here?”

“Forty-eight-hour special liberty.”

Zane frowned harder. He realized he was still gripping the door, and his knuckles hurt. He let go and shook his hand. “Special liberty?” he asked carefully.

“I have a cold,” Nick answered, deadpan. He waited a beat. “Can I come in?”

Zane started, nodding as he stepped out of the way. “Yeah. Shit. Sorry, I just . . .”

“Panicked, I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t have anywhere to change out of the uniform,” Nick said as he stepped inside. He set his seabag down by the door, the same spot Ty always dropped his gym bag when he was tired after a long day.

Zane stared at it for a moment, letting the pain settle in his chest before he tried to take another breath. He finally tore his eyes away and tried to smile at Nick. Nick was watching him. He seemed exhausted, but his frown was sympathetic. He had to sense Zane’s disappointment that he wasn’t Ty.

“You look good,” Zane managed to say with a wave of his hand at Nick.

Nick smirked. “I know. Marines always look good.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a leather billfold that appeared to hold his orders, then pulled a creased and battered envelope from the billfold and handed it to Zane.

Zane stared at it, licking his lips and steeling himself before he reached for it. It was warm against his fingers, and the simple scrawl of his name was familiar. It was from Ty, but it had the appearance of a letter that had seen many nights in someone’s pocket. Zane knew a lot of soldiers, sailors, and Marines left a letter with a buddy in case they didn’t make it home. If Nick had been carrying this letter around every day for that reason, Zane didn’t want to read it. “This isn’t . . .”

“He knew I was coming home,” Nick answered, voice gentle. “He wrote it before I left.”

Zane released the breath he’d been holding in a rush. He turned the letter over, fingers shaking, desperate to rip it open and read the first communication he’d received from Ty in months.

Nick cleared his throat. “Garrett. I know my way around if you want to take that upstairs and read it. You can write him a response and I’ll carry it back with me.”

Zane blinked at him, fighting to breathe. “You only have forty-eight hours. You shouldn’t waste them.”

Nick raised both eyebrows and shook his head. “I’m not.”

Zane stared at him for another breathless second, then lunged and wrapped Nick up in a hug. Nick began to laugh, patting him on the back awkwardly. “Go on,” he finally urged. “I’m going to steal some of Ty’s Cubans while you do that.”

“Deal.” Zane backed away and then turned to head up the stairs, the letter pressed to his hip so his fingers wouldn’t tremble as he held it. He heard Nick in the kitchen, probably retrieving the portable safe Ty kept hidden below the kitchen sink where he stowed his Cuban cigars. Zane didn’t even care that Nick knew it was there. He went to his bedroom and sat on the end of the bed, staring down at the letter from Ty.

He almost didn’t want to open it. There was every possibility it might be the last thing he heard from Ty, and though he tried not to think that way, he was only human. The notion kept creeping in. What if this was it? What if this was the last thing they managed to say to each other? How could it ever be enough?

He forced himself to tear into the envelope before he could make himself sick.

Zane,

I’m okay. We’re all okay. I miss you like nothing I’ve ever experienced, and I wanted you to know that. I can’t say more. Please don’t ask Nick details. Just know we’re doing our damnedest to get home.

It was signed formally, with the words Captain B. Tyler Grady scrawled across the bottom.

“Captain,” Zane murmured. He smiled even as his composure threatened. There was almost nothing to go on, but it was from Ty and that was all that mattered. Beneath the signature were eight numbers that seemed to be random. Zane wondered first if they were perhaps a processing code, but they were in Ty’s handwriting.

After staring for a few more seconds, he realized what it was. A simple cipher. Ty had sent him an encoded message. He grabbed a pad of paper from the bedside table and began writing down the letters needed to replace the numbers, and it didn’t take long to decipher what the message said: “I love you.”

Zane began to laugh. Ty had sent him a puzzle to play with.