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“But that’s the thing.” Ryker gulped and snuck a glance over at Derek and Jerrod. Derek gave him a chin tilt. Ryker closed his eyes and tried again. “That’s the thing, Dad, I don’t know what’s in my heart. I don’t like having feelings, especially not something that hurts this bad, so I try not to feel them, you know?”

Ryan McQueen nodded. “I get it, son, but feelings are a part of life. They’re what make you human.”

“Well, they suck.” Ryker sucked in air. He’d do anything in his power not to cry in front of his dad or his two older brothers.

“I know, son. Sometimes they do. But can you tell me something that you are feeling?”

“I feel like it was my fault.”

“How do you figure that?” Derek asked.

“I was over at the Gilders. Larry and Eddie both knew that Dad would never let me surf The Wedge, so Larry was feeling sorry for me.”

“So the dumbfuck decided to take you and Eddie out there before the lifeguards were even on duty?” Jerrod stood up from where he was sitting on the pool table in the downstairs rec room, his big hands clenched in fists like he was looking for someone to pound on. Jerrod had just graduated and would be enlisting in the Marines. He was more hardcore than even Derek. Even more hardcore than their Dad, and he’d retired as a longshoreman.

“Jerrod, it was my fault. I was the one who had them come pick me up to spend the night during Carmen’s softball game. I knew all of you would be gone cause she was in the playoffs so I could get my surfing gear. I pushed them into this.”

The backs of his eyeballs were burning.

“I don’t care if you arranged for that girl from the comic book movie to blow me, there wouldn’t be a chance in hell I’d take you out to the fucking Wedge!”

“Tone it down, Jerrod,” their dad said quietly.

“How the fuck can I tone it down? Eddie’s dead! It could have been Ryker! Goddamn Larry has always had shit for brains.”

A sob shook Ryker. He couldn’t stop it, or the next one that came out.

“Nice job, fucknut,” Derek muttered.

Ryker knew he was talking to Jerrod, but he was trying to block them out. Trying to block out everyone since he’d gotten that call.

Eddie was supposed to have been okay. They’d taken him away in the ambulance, and they were giving him oxygen. Ryker had known that meant he was okay. Then he’d gotten the call from Lacy Armstrong whose mom was good friends with Mrs. Gilder. Eddie had died at the hospital that night. Something about a pulmonary edamame. Or something that sounded like that. Not that it fucking mattered. Cause. Eddie. Was. Dead.

He felt his dad’s arms gather him close.

“It’s going to be all right, son.”

Ryker grabbed on tight. His dad was wrong. It wasn’t going to be all right. Nothing was going to be all right ever again.

“You’re wrong, Ryker. As much as you hurt right now. As angry as you are right now. I understand. And the one thing I know. The one thing I can promise you is that your anger and hurt will fade.” His father stooped down so that he was staring right into Ryker’s eyes. “Are you hearing me? This will fade.”

“Won’t I lose Eddie?”

“You won’t lose him, you’ll just lose all this pain. Instead, you’ll begin to remember the good parts of being his friend,” his father reassured him.

Ryker looked over his shoulder at his brothers. He met Derek’s eyes. Derek, who could have died just as easily yesterday.

No, he didn’t want the hurt and anger to fade. He wanted to remember. He wanted to make sure nothing like this ever happened on his watch ever again.

1

“For the love of all that’s Holy, what the fuck did I ever do to our lieutenant to deserve this?” Ryker whispered after picking himself up out of the second sinkhole that he’d fallen into that day. His teammate—and now former friend—could barely catch his breath because he was trying so hard not to make noise by laughing out loud.

“You know,” Ryker hissed softly, “this M4 A1 is supposed to shoot just fine even when mud has been shoved all the way up its barrel, and at this point, I’m willing to test it on you,” Ryker finished.

“Jesus, Ryker,” Jase Drakos whispered back, “why Kostya thought you could ever be a tracker is beyond me. Even Landon or Mateo would outperform you.” The incredulous look that Jase gave him rankled, even though he knew his friend was teasing.

“Fuck you, Drakos,” Ryker muttered. “You’d be so busy trying to muzzle Landon when you were five yards from your target, you’d go crazy. Meanwhile, Mateo would be too busy admiring his muscles to notice a footprint, let alone a broken twig.”