Feeling helpless, wishing I could take him into my arms and comfort him, I simply offer him my hand, which he pulls to his chest. As his shoulders rise and fall with the grief running roughshod through his body, it’s the pounding of his courageous heart under my palm that steals my attention.
“Tolly was right, Ant,” I whisper through the convulsive tears. “You are the bravest man I’ve ever known.”
He keeps a tight grip on my hand as he releases years of pent-up anguish. It goes on for a while, with an array of emotions—visible in his sobs, silent tears, and numb stares—lashing him on a whim.
Finally, he cries himself to sleep, gripping my hand for the rest of the flight into Isla Mujeres.
After a smooth landing, I taxi into a nice hangar and help Ant, dazed and quiet, out of his seat. A town car awaits us, courtesy of our noble friend, and I hand our bags to the driver, then finally pull Ant into a hug.
I don’t have any words, so I just hold him.
Finally, he speaks.
“I don’t think I want to do this anymore,” he says, his voice so soft I wonder if I’ve misunderstood him.
I know without him having to explain that he isn’t referring to us. I feel too much of his heart now to worry about that.
“You mean the bloody swath you’ve been cutting across the country?” I ask, aiming for a little levity.
He lets out a rough laugh as I lead him to the car. He gets in and scoots over, making room for me. I climb in next to him.
He’s quiet for another moment as he grabs my hand. “It’s not just that. I don’t want to be the pointy end of the stick anymore. I want to help if I can, but I can’t keep reliving it.”
His thick black eyelashes are spiky with tears as he bores a look into my soul, begging me to understand. Feeling for him as I do, I don’t need help understanding.
“One of the places on the list was San Miguel Allende. The man who bought you is dead, but your grandfather still owns the compound. Do you want to make that your last op, or—”
Ant shakes his head. “No. No more. It doesn’t give me those years back. Let him die old and alone in his big fucking house.”
“Okay, okay. It stops here,” I say reassuringly, pulling him against me as the driver takes off. “We visit your family, then go home and figure out whatever’s next.”
He chuckles under his breath. “Think they’ll take me back at the fencing company?”
I laugh and kiss the top of his head. “Yes. You have a lot of options though. Don’t forget, this trip has made you obnoxiously wealthy.”
“Oh yeah.” He sniffs. “Oh wait. What if Hopper and Anders kick me off the Murderer’s Row chat?”
The driver sends a worried look through the rearview mirror, and I wave him off.
“Nah, baby. Once a killer, always a killer. They’re yours for life.”
He sighs, collapsing against me. Seconds later, he’s breathing softly, sleeping as though today has sucked every ounce of energy from his body.
21
ANT
Gael and Javier are waiting for us on the runway halfway between San Luis Potosí and San Miguel de Allende and about twenty minutes from the small township my family calls home. The last twenty-four hours have been super heavy, but seeing them lightens something in my soul.
Erik grins when I push past him down the stairs and run into Gael’s and Javier’s arms.
Gael pulls back. “Primo, are you okay?”
I sniff loudly and shake my head. “No, but I will be. This last op was…probably my last op. I can’t keep going after the bad guys. It isn’t any good for me.”
Understanding passes through Gael’s eyes. “I can’t lie—I’m relieved, but I know something bad had to get you to this point.”
I nod. “I just keep putting myself in these situations where I’m reminded of the things I’d like to leave in the past. I want a life without all this darkness in it.”
