“Mason.” Declan’s voice, filled with sympathy and compassion, wrapped around me at the same time his arms did. It broke the dam within me, and I shook, sobs racking my body. He held me through it. Not speaking, just allowing me to let everything out.
I hadn’t given myself permission to cry before. Knowing once I started I would never stop. But I felt it all now. The guilt over failing my friend. The grief over his death. And losing a future with my mate. I don’t know how long I cried, but Declan stayed steady through it all.
He waited for my tears to slow before he pulled back and held my shoulders, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Mason. You didn’t kill Aaron. You did everything possible to save him.”
I shook my head. “If I hadn’t fallen on that rod, he never would have been in that building. Or if I got him to the hospital faster, they could have saved him.”
He cursed, dropping his head briefly before looking up. “This is survivor’s guilt.” Declan was firm, though his eyes were soft. “He made the choice to rescue you and push you out of the way. Just as you made the choice to give everything you had to save him. Your thigh should have healed. It would have if you hadn’t carried Aaron that far. You sacrificed to save him. It’s not your fault he died.”
I shook my head, unwilling to believe his words.
Declan squeezed my shoulders. “Did you tell Brooke this story?”
“No. But she knows enough. Vince contacted her.”
“Mason, listen to me. You are not responsible.” He blew out a heavy breath. “You need to tell Brooke everything. She needs to hear the truth from you.”
He gazed over my shoulder. “And I think you should talk to someone about this. I’m sure Katie can recommend someone.”
“I don’t think I can talk to a stranger about?—”
“You need to deal with this once and for all. You can’t have it hanging over you forever.” Declan pulled me in for another hug. “We’re all here for you. Remember that. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
I tentatively put my arms around him, letting the embrace soothe the ache inside. Was he right? Was it possible I wasn’t at fault? I’d spent so long convinced of my guilt that the idea of not being responsible didn’t fit right. But if he didn’t think I was, maybe Brooke would feel the same.
The only way to find out was to tell her. If she’d ever talk to me again.
Brooke
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to make myself move. Nor could I sleep. I’d spent the entire night replaying every word Mason had ever said to me, attempting to poke holes in his admission. Before Vince’s words, I’d never considered it as a possibility. I’d just thought Mason was trying to protect me from learning my brother’s death had been painful, or that he’d been alone.
The anguish on Mason’s face told another story. Would Aaron still be alive if it weren’t for Mason?
I hugged my pillow to my chest, wishing it could hug me back, but I’d had no one to comfort me since my brother. Except for Mason. He had held and soothed me. His arms had felt like they belonged around me, but now I wondered if that comfort had come from my brother’s killer. Still, my body ached for that comfort, even as my mind recoiled.
Why had he kept the pictures of Aaron and me, though? Was it to punish himself? A reminder of what he did and the pain he caused?
I struggled to reconcile the Mason I’d gotten to know over the last few days with what Vince claimed. It wasn’t like Vince was a reliable source. I’d learned more about the things he’d done since arriving at the ranch, and there wasn’t anyone here untouched by his grudge against Mason.
A grudge that I didn’t understand, even now. Was it because of Aaron’s death, or was there something else? It didn’t seem enough to cause him to slide so far into darkness.
Also, if Mason were responsible, why was he discharged with honors? If the military believed he’d killed a fellow soldier, thereshould have been an inquiry, or a stain on his record. But there wasn’t. I was so confused. I didn’t know where one thought ended and the next started. Everything just looped together into one enormous ball of not knowing.
The burner cell rang, buzzing and bumping on the nightstand. I stared at it, debating whether to answer or not. I didn’t trust Vince, but I no longer knew if I could trust Mason, and I still wanted answers. I grabbed the cell just before it cut off. “Hello.”
“Have you thought more about meeting with me?” Vince wasted no time.
I held my breath for a moment as I considered my response. “Why won’t you tell me over the phone?”
“You won’t believe me without proof.”
My heart thudded. “You have proof?”
“Of course.”
“But if there’s evidence, why would the military have discharged Mason with honors? Why wouldn’t they have held him accountable?” My throat closed, forcing my voice to come out thin and breathless.
Vince huffed. “It was a classified mission. They wanted nothing about it to get out, so they covered it up.”
