“Nope. We’re all fine and dandy. Now, where is it?”
“Where is what…?”
“The lecture about how I went off the rails again. I’m tired enough not to fight you on this, so here’s your chance,” I say.
Earlier tonight, when they delivered Cole’s body, Maddox was completely against this mission. First, because it was dangerous as fuck and we weren’t exactly prepared to go out like that without more than an hour’s notice. And second, because he knew he couldn’t help once I got there. I was on my own. Just me, my men, and all the rotting bodies we left in our wake.
Which is why I don’t expect it when he says, “I would’ve come with you if I could.”
I run a hand down my face, then rest my forearm on my thigh, leaning forward in my seat.
“I wouldn’t have let you. Your job is to run the country. It’s my job to defend it.”
And Cole’s job was to bring it justice,I think to myself.
The truth is, we didn’t just lose our brother. We lost our entire justice system as well.
Maddox is just a few years short of becoming president. And right now, his popularity is off the charts as a congressman. Just like we wanted. Me, I’m to lead the special ops team until he gets us the White House—then I can take charge of the entiremilitary. Everything was going well. Everything was just the way we’d fucking planned. Until this evening.
“I’ll visit Cole’s family in the morning,” he says.
“No. You stay. I’ll go. It’s my fault that he—”
He growls. “I don’t want to hear it. You should know better. You know what we’re up against… And fuck, in the end, Cole did too.”
My pulse quickens, and it feels like I’m getting punched in the gut by an invisible force. But I shove the guilt down into the same place I shove everything I don’t have the luxury of thinking about. Because if I did, it would flip a switch in me I know I’d never be able to turn back off.
Cole has always been the good side of us. He was the only one who joined the military just so he could fight for his country—for his family to have a future to come back to after the war.
Maddox and I, though, have always felt like we had to prove something… to the world, to ourselves, I don’t fucking know. But Cole never cared about the ranks and the power. All he ever wanted was to leave this world a better place than he found it. Then Maddox suggested teaming up to run the country and give it the future it deserves. Cole wasn’t even interested—not untilIconvinced him. If it weren’t for my stupid fucking arguments… maybe he’d still be alive.
My head feels heavy, and I tighten my hand around the phone. I can’tnottake responsibility for his death. The feeling gnaws at my flesh and bones, drawing blood out of old wounds that have yet to heal. A lifetime of pain has made me almost immune to human emotion—I rarely understand happiness or love. All I understand is hell, and that’s why I choose to fight it every day.
“I’ll go,” I say again, leaving no more room for discussion. It’s the very fucking least I can do for his family. “Keep advancing our plans. Get us the White House.”
My fingers curl into a fist as I lift my arm to knock on the Finnegans’ front door. I stare at the chipped paint on the weathered wood, bracing for the inevitable.
The three of us never talked much about our families, except to agree we’d look after them if one of us were to die. I know both of Cole’s parents are alive, though. And in a few moments, they’ll open this door, and I’ll give them the news. And they’ll fall apart, just like any parent would upon hearing they’ll have to plan a funeral for their son.
But that’s not even the worst fucking part.
Because what’s even worse than making two grown adults cry is breaking a little girl’s heart by telling her that her brother isn’t coming home anymore. That’s exactly what I’ll do to Dove, Cole’s sister. She doesn’t deserve it—no kid deserves their childhood being wrecked like that.
I should know.
The back of my father’s hand connects with my face and I slam into the wall, where blood splatters all over the white paint.
It takes me a moment to realize that the blood is mine.
That my father hit me with such force my unbruised skin splintered above my brow.
I can’t breathe.
I turn to look at him, but he looks composed. As if it didn’t happen at all.
“Wipe that shit off,” he tells me. “Then bring me my other gun and try again.”
Quiet footsteps approach me from behind, snapping me out of my thoughts.
