Christian moved to Ronan's side. "You good?"
"Terrified."
Christian punched his brother in the arm. “As it should be, bro.”
The music shifted to that age-old tune. Here Comes the Bride. The crowd hushed.
Maya appeared in the doorway, radiant in simple white, her father beaming in his own dress blues.
Ronan’s face transformed. Love. Pure, uncomplicated, transformative love. The kind that made you believe in something beyond the mission. Beyond the fight.
Once Lawrence escorted Maya to the dais and put her hand in Ronan’s, Pastor Dan stepped forward.
Griff didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Even hundreds of miles away, he didn’t want to break the spell.
"Dearly beloved," Pastor began, and Griff found himself mouthing the introduction along with him. How many weddings had he attended? How many times had he stood as best man, wingman, brother-in-arms?
Now he was a ghost watching through glass.
The ceremony unfolded with the beautiful chaos he'd expect of his found family. Chantal's stage-whispered commentary to DJ. Jade and Lauren and Kelli trying to maintain order while Deke grinned at the pandemonium.
They're happy. They're safe. That's what matters.
But were they?
Months of hunting, and he was no closer to the source. He’d found peripheral players. Hired guns. Middle management. The real architects of Sentinel remained shadows. Shadows that could reach out and destroy everything on that screen with a single order.
When Ronan and Maya kissed, the room erupted in joy, tears slid down his face.
Kenji’s face, three-day stubble and all, flooded the screen. “Well, dude, there you have it. Hope you’re watching. I thinkyou are.” He turned serious. “We miss you. Let us in, bro. Soon.”
The screen went dark, only adding to the heartache. “Wish you well, guys.” He whispered a toast to the newlyweds.
You're the reason they're safe to be happy. Your absence is your gift.
He wanted to believe it.
"Lord," he whispered into the darkness, "I don't know if You're listening to someone like me anymore, but please... keep them safe. They're good people. Better than me. They deserve this happiness. And Tank..." His voice cracked. "Tell Tank I'm trying. I'm trying to make it right."
The notification hit his screen like a slap.
PRIORITY INTEL INTERCEPT:FBI Financial Crimes DivisionStatus: ACTIVE INVESTIGATION - STILLWATER ACCOUNTSCurrent Location: FBI secondary research center, Arlington, VA 1437 hrs
Griff's heartbeat spiked. Someone else was following the money. Or trying to cover up a loose end. Just because whoever pinged his net had done it from inside a federal facility didn’t mean a thing. A rear admiral had ordered Tank’s killing. Griff didn’t trust anyone, official or not.
On the iPad, Chantal was standing on DJ's feet, her rainbow boots flashing as he carefully waltzed her around the floor. Pure innocence. The thing they all fought to protect.
On screen, Ronan pulled Maya close for another dance, whispering something that made her laugh. Behind them, Christian had his arm around his wife, Whitney, watching his brother with an expression of profound peace.
Peace. A foreign concept now.
He closed the iPad, cutting off the feed from paradise. The room plunged into darkness, only him and the shadows he'd made his home.
He stood, bones creaking from too many hours hunchedover screens and files. His go-bag was already packed—it always was. Cash, weapons, clean documents. The tools of a man who'd chosen vengeance over peace.
One last look at the dark iPad. Behind that black screen, his family was dancing, laughing, living.
The ghost was about to become very real.
