“Talking is not going to solve this shit show.”
“Nope, it isn’t,” TB agreed. “But we’ll know what’s going on, and that means we’ll know how to handle it.”
“You already know everything.” He could feel the anger rolling back. It was still present, but the blood no longer rushed in his ears, and his breathing was calming down.
“We know the facts,” Demon corrected him. “But we only have educated guesses about what you’re thinking, and no fecking clue what you’re feeling. Well, we can guess at some of that, but since you don’t show emotion, ever, those are pure guesses based on our own circumstances.”
“Great. We’re in the kitchen, cooking together, and you decide you want to talk about my feelings? Shall I break out the wine andthe aprons next?” He wanted the knife back so he could slice Demon open. Preferably at his jugular.
“I’d love a glass of wine. Since Cherry hates the stuff, I never get to have it anymore, but we might have to take off at any moment, so?—”
“Fuck off, Demon!”
TB put a hand to his heart and recoiled. “Dude, he swore in English. We might have broken him.”
“Cierra la puta boca,” he said, throwing a pepper at him.
Brushing a hand across his forehead, TB joked, “Thank god, he’s back to normal.”
“Talk to us,” Demon urged.
Steel began mixing all the chopped ingredients and seasonings. “About what?”
“Daleyza would be a good place to start.”
“What do you want me to say? You know our situation.”
“Again. Those are facts. She’s back in your life. You’ve gotta feel something about that.”
He went to the cupboards and began pulling out spices for making chimichurri sauce. “For now. She’s back for now. As soon as she’s safe, she’ll be given a new identity and gone again.” He began to chop the parsley, hoping that it would keep him focused.
“You… don’t want her back? Permanently?”
Now his own knife cuts sounded heavy in his ears. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”
“So, she doesn’t want to be back in your life?”
“Highly unlikely, I would imagine.”
“Do you know that for sure?” TB asked.
He stopped cutting and looked up at the man. “Would Flame want you back if you killed Axel?”
There was muttered swearing in Gaelic to his left. Pulling himself together, Demon switched to English. “You didn’t kill your son.”
He returned to chopping the parsley. “I may not have pulled the trigger, but I certainly didn’t protect him.”
“What happened to Tobias was a horrific tragedy, Steel, but make no mistake. You were one hundred percent doing the right thing in taking the risk. I’ve been researching the Colonel Cartel. Between the stuff Midas has dug up and what you’ve shared, if you hadn’t tried to escape, he would have been in even worse danger.”
A deep-seated burning filled his chest cavity.
Gently, he pried the body from Daleyza’s arms and rose to a standing position. Left. Right. Left. Right. Measured steps toward the Humvee. His son’s limp body in his arms. So much blood from such a little body. Tears mixed with the blood on his face. Were they Tobias’ tears? Daleyza’s? His? It was impossible to tell.
He snapped himself back to the present.
“Doesn’t change the fact that he’s dead.”
“No, it doesn’t. But the only person to blame for that is your asshole father, and your two half brothers can shoulder some of the responsibility if you’re feeling generous. They knew he was there. He wasn’t exactly hidden, so when they chose to fire their guns at you, they knew Tobias could become a victim. They didn’t care, Steel,” TB reminded him. “In fact, I would bet they were counting on hitting him. What better way to destroy you than to take something from you that you loved?”
