“Then at least you’ll know you tried.”Jack releases my hands and sits back.“But I don’t think that’s what’s going to happen.I’ve seen the way that girl looks at you, Shelby.She’s not looking for perfect.She’s looking for real.And you’re the realest thing she’s ever found in a world full of masks and manipulation.”
I think about Serena’s words from the other night, when I told her about Syria and all the ways I’ve failed.
You didn’t freeze because you’re weak, Shelby.You froze because you cared.Because the thought of that sweet woman dying was so unbearable that your brain and your body couldn’t process it fast enough to respond.That’s not being weak, it’s being human.
She saw the worst of me and called it human.
She saw my cracks and said they let the light in.
She chose me.And it’s time I started choosing her back, not just with my actions, but with my whole heart.
I push back from the desk and stand.The room tilts briefly, then steadies.My head still pounds, but there’s a purpose beneath the pain that wasn’t there before.
“I need to clean up,” I say.“Get ready for the operation.”
There’s a shower in my en-suite bathroom.Fresh clothes in my locker.
Jack rises too, his movements slower but no less deliberate.“I’ll have someone bring coffee.Real food.You’re going to need your strength.”
I nod, come around the desk, and pull my father into an embrace.
“Dad,” I murmur against his shoulder.“Thank you.”The words sound inadequate, but I don’t have better ones.“For coming.For...this.”
Jack hugs me tighter, slapping my back with loving vigor before pulling away to stare into my face.His expression softens.The patriarch fades, and the caring father surfaces.The man who taught me to ride a bike, but also throw a punch and never back down from a fight worth fighting.
“Your mother would have been proud of you,” he says.“Not for the drinking.She’d have kicked your ass for that.”A ghost of a smile crosses his face.“But for loving someone enough to be terrified.That’s the kind of courage she believed in.”
I don’t trust myself to respond.Instead, I let go of him and step into the bathroom.
The shower is hot, almost scalding.I stand under the spray and let it wash away the alcohol sweat, the exhaustion, the breakdown.When I step out, I feel raw.Exposed.Like a wound that’s been cleaned and is finally ready to heal.
Fresh clothes.Black tactical gear laid out in my locker.I dress with the precision of long practice, each movement deliberate.Holster.Weapons.The familiar weight of preparation settles onto my shoulders.
But I’m not the same man who fell apart in that office.
I’m the man who’s going to bring his wife home.
I’m the man who’s going to look her in the eyes and tell her everything.The terror.The love.The absolute certainty that she’s the only thing that makes sense in a world that’s been chaos for a decade.
I’m the man who’s finally ready to try.
I make my way to the war room as the Syndicate headquarters comes alive around me.Men moving with purpose.Weapons being checked.The controlled chaos of an organization preparing for war.In a few minutes, we’ll launch an assault on Giovanni’s property.
I’ll either bring Serena home or die trying.
Fear is still there.It will always be.But it’s no longer in control.It no longer dictates my choices.It doesn’t whisper that I’m cursed and broken and destined to fail.
I’m choosing something different.
I’m choosing to believe that love is worth the risk.That Serena is worth the risk.That the man I want to become is worth fighting for, even if I have to fight myself to get there.
When I step into the war room, my brothers are already there.Dave looks up from the tactical display, his expression assessing.Tommy straightens from his position by the window, relief flickering across his features.
“You look better,” Tommy says.
“I am better.”I move to the table, studying the assault plan with fresh eyes.“Final walk-through before we deploy?”
Dave and Tommy exchange a glance.Something passes between them, a silent communication I can’t decode.
