Page 81 of Part & Parcel

“Why do you say that?”

Ty was shaking his head, his eyes on the men a row up and over. “Just a feeling, I guess.”

When they landed in DC, they retrieved Ty’s Mustang from the long-term parking lot and rented another car for the day. Ty sat rubbing the steering wheel and cooing to the Mustang long enough that Zane threatened to get out and ride in the other vehicle, and then they were on their way to a little restaurant on the outskirts of the city. It was closed and boarded up when they found the place, and it looked to Zane like it had been that way for quite a few years.

That didn’t stop Sidewinder, of course. Within about five minutes they’d found their way in, and they were picking their way through the dusty debris of a long-forgotten roadside diner.

Ty led the way to a booth near the end of the long counter, and he slid into it, heedless of the dirt. Nick hesitated as he watched, and then he gave the others an uncomfortable glance and sat himself on the opposite bench. He had his fingers clasped together, and his shoulders were hunched defensively.

Ty looked around the booth, sighing heavily. “This was where we sat and talked about Burns’s offer to join the FBI.” He took another deep breath and turned his attention to Nick. He stared at his hands for a few seconds, then seemed to force himself to meet Nick’s eyes.

Nick was chewing on his lower lip, so obviously uncomfortable that even Zane kind of wanted to call a halt to all this.

Nick took a deep breath. “I—”

“No,” Ty said quickly, the word coming out angry and a little more forceful than he appeared to have intended, judging by the look on his face. He reached across the table and laid his hand over both of Nick’s. “You already done this, bud. You told me and Sanchez all the reasons we should stay the day we sat here ten years ago. You told us. But we didn’t listen. So it’s my turn.”

Nick shifted his shoulders, cocking his head as he listened. He looked like he wanted to slide beneath the table and disappear. Nick was great at propping up someone grasping for support, but when he was stumbling himself, he didn’t seem to know support when he saw it.

Ty wouldn’t let him look away, though. He ducked his head to make sure Nick was meeting his eyes before he began speaking. “You’re the reason we’re a team. We were each lost and drifting when you found us. And you pulled each of us in like a moth to a flame. A lighthouse on the shore, bringing us in to safety. That’s what you are, Irish. Eli was right in his first letter. Without you, none of us would be here. None of us would have ever known what home really felt like.”

They sat in silence, and eventually Kelly slid into the seat beside Nick. The others pushed Ty aside and crowded into the little booth.

“You need us to keep talking, bud?” Owen asked Nick gently. “Because we can.”

Nick shook his head. His lips were pressed tight together, and his eyes darted between them.

Kelly shoved his shoulder into Nick. “We all left you, thinking you were strong enough because you made each of us so much stronger. I don’t think any of us realized that your strength came from what you were doing for us.”

“What’s a lighthouse without any ships to signal?” Zane blurted. He’d once thought to himself that Nick was a rocky seashore, calling a drifting Ty home. When they called him a light drawing them to safety, a beacon, Zane was on board the analogy one thousand percent.

“Nicko,” Kelly whispered.

Nick answered with a deep inhalation, and he wrapped his arm around Kelly and hugged him. “Okay,” he said, and sounded relieved. Infinitely relieved. “Let’s open that next letter.”

Ty cleared his throat and pulled the letter out of his pocket. “There’s, um . . . there’s one more thing on the last letter that I didn’t read out. I wanted to wait until we were here.”

Everyone seemed to tense a little, realizing the task they’d thought was completed still might have more to it.

Ty licked his lips and ran his thumb over the paper. “He says to add up all the mileage we drove on the trip. I looked when we dropped the rental off, and it was two thousand, one hundred, and fifty-nine miles.”

Zane whistled, impressed, and the others all shifted around and nodded.

Ty cleared his throat again. “And then he says to figure out how many of those miles we went that Nick carried us.”

The table fell silent. Zane could hear the squeaking of the old, dried-out pleather seats. He could see Nick vibrating a little, like he might have been bouncing his knee under the table.

“I did the math on that, too,” Ty said solemnly. “Nick carried us one thousand, six hundred, and thirty-eight of those miles.”

“Wow,” Nick whispered after a few moments of silence.

“I think it’s pretty clear what EZ was trying to say with that one,” Owen croaked.

Digger gave Nick a nod and a wink. “Respect, brother. That’s one hell of an analogy he’s tossing out there.”

Nick closed his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. “You’re right,” he whispered to no one in particular. “I’m not me unless I’ve got someone who needs me. You’re right. That’s where I lost myself the past few months. I convinced myself no one did.”

“Babe,” Kelly whispered. “We’ll always need you. If you knew what state we were all in when we thought you’d died in that street . . .”

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