Dale, leaned forward on the counter.“And I make no apologies for it.But I also shut Ty down.I threw his hesitation to join the last fire fight in his face, a decision I truly admired, but last night I made it sound like I didn’t trust him to move when it mattered.”
“Because last night you were scared,” Nick said, easy as telling the weather.“Scared looks like anger on you.Looks like orders.They know that.Doesn’t make it easier to swallow.”
“Ty shouldn’t have had to swallow that shit,” Dale said.
Nick lifted a brow.“No, he shouldn’t, but Ty reads all the angles in a conversation.It’s why he is so good at what he does.Trust that.”
“Oren carries everything alone until he breaks,” Dale said, throat tight.“He didn’t tell us about Carson until he’d had time to process it on his own.He didn’t give us the opportunity to help him with that.I said the wrong thing trying to make him understand that.”
“Then make it a rule,” Nick said.“One they can stand by.You want trust?You give it first and you make it impossible to miss.”He held up a finger.“One, you tell them you were wrong last night.No excuses.No hedging.Two, you spell out what you need in plain words.When it goes bad, I want it fast.No poetry.Three, you ask them what they need from you.And then you shut up and listen long enough to hear the part they’re not saying.”
Dale stared at him.“That simple?”
“It’s never simple,” Nick said.“It’s just what you need to do.”He took his own coffee and sipped.“You’re the alpha in this relationship, whether you want the badge or not.Being the alpha isn’t you barking.It’s you making the room safe enough that the other two bring you the worst thing at 2:00 AM without worrying about the look on your face when they do.”
Dale felt the words land where they needed to.The ache behind his eyes wasn’t from the whiskey anymore.It was from the part of him that wanted to do it right and kept tripping over his own boots.
Nick nodded toward the hall.“You apologize to them both.You don’t make it about your fear.You make it about the team.You tell Ty you trust his instincts and his skills, and you want him to work next to you.You tell Oren you’re done letting him carry ghosts alone, and that you will stand with, beside, and in front of him when the time calls for it.And then you prove it by staying in the room when it’s ugly.”
“And if it goes sideways,” Dale said, voice low.
“Then you do what you always do,” Nick said.“You hold the fucking line.You make the call no one else wants to make.But you don’t make it alone if you don’t have to.That’s the difference.”
Silence sat with them a beat.The pastry had disappeared.Dale couldn’t remember finishing it.He felt human again, which was annoying.He preferred the punishment.
Nick watched him, then pushed one more cup across the island.“Backup.Because you’re going to try and fix a lot of hurt your mouth threw out last night, and you’re going to need the fuel.”
Dale took it.“I hate that you’re right.”
“Occupational hazard.”Nick straightened.“One more thing.Don’t perform the apology.Mean it.The ones we love, that know us better than anyone, can smell the difference.”
Dale nodded.The headache had moved back a step.The guilt hadn’t, but it had quit throwing elbows.“I’m going to make this work,” he said.
Nick’s mouth tipped.“Who were you kidding—you already decided that when you started drinking whiskey you don’t even like.”He reached for his hat.“Text me when you’ve handled your end.If you screw it up, I’ll come back with Sam and Aiden, and we’ll lecture you as a team.”
“God help me,” Dale muttered.
“He usually does.”Nick headed for the door and paused with his hand on the frame.“Go wash the confectionery sugar off your face.Then go be the man they can trust.Anything else is unacceptable.”
The door shut softly behind him.The house breathed.Dale scrubbed his hands over his face and felt the decision settle in the places decisions stayed made.Shower.Food.Find Ty.Find Oren.Say it right.Back it up.
He threw the empty whiskey bottle in the trash and went to start the water.Work first.Then the men.Then the day.
****
It was still dark enoughto make the ridge a shape instead of a place.Oren pulled on a t-shirt and his shoes and told himself thirty minutes would be enough to shake the grit out of his head.He had slept like shit, oscillating between wanting to go find Ty, dragging him to Dale’s and have it all out with them, and wanting to hide, bury his head, and pretend that everything was fine.
It wasn’t and he would need to sort through all this shit, but not yet.He’d run until he could function better, and then he’d call Marsh so that they would tackle the fence.Walk it, not just watch it.Find the door Carson thought he owned and close it.
He eased the barracks door shut and breathed the air the way he always did before a run.In, count four, out, count six, until the chest unclenched.The gravel under his shoes was wet with whatever passed for dew up here.He rolled his shoulders and set off along the service road, legs remembering before the rest of him did.
A shape broke from the trees up ahead.It wasn’t a man.Brown and low, tail high, nose to the ground like it had a job to do.Oren stopped in the trail.
The dog saw him before he saw the handler.Chocolate lab, big head, coat glossy even under bad light.It blew past him in a fast loop and came back to sniff his shorts pockets like he might be hiding something in there.
“Deefer,” a voice said, easy.“Where are your manners?Leave the man alone.He is not Dev, and he does not have any treats or sugar cubes for a good boy like you.”
Aiden George stepped out of the night with a leash loose in one hand and a cap pulled down.Hoodie, running shoes, posture relaxed enough to be a choice.
