by Abigail Roux
Ty blinked a few times. “What?”
“The store. That’s what we’ll call it. Brick & Mortar.”
Ty peered at him for a long moment, not quite able to smile, but obviously trying. He nodded, the sadness in his eyes almost unbearable. “I like it,” he choked out. He nodded again, then looked down at the violin in his lap.
Zane jumped when his burner phone rang, and he dug it out. “Clancy?”
“It’ll take two weeks to get that money moving.”
Zane’s heart sank. “We won’t last two weeks with the NIA on us.”
“We got it rolling here. We’re coming home to help you.”
Zane’s nostrils flared as he concentrated on keeping outwardly calm. “We’ll see you in Miami. And Clancy?”
“Yeah?”
“Excellent work.”
Clancy was silent for a long time. When she answered, it was a choked, “Thanks, boss.”
Zane hung up and lifted his gaze to Ty, who was watching him with that same wistful sadness. It seemed to Zane that Ty had known all along it would come to this.
“You boys leaving in the morning?” Harrison asked.
“Yes, sir,” Zane managed to say. He was still staring raptly at Ty, and he had to tear his eyes away. “Staying longer will just put you all in more danger. The longer we wait, the worse it’ll be.”
“I wish it was anyone but you,” Harrison said, and his voice wavered.
Zane fought to swallow past the lump in his throat. “It has to be us.”
Earl’s chair creaked against the floorboards as he rocked. “I couldn’t hope for a better man to be at my son’s side in a time like this,” he said, and Zane was shocked to see his eyes glistening. Their eyes locked, and Earl gave him a nod. “Not a better man.”
Zane couldn’t manage to respond.
Someone cleared his throat from the bottom of the stairs, and they were all surprised to see Nick standing there. He’d been too quiet approaching, even with his ribs tightly bound and his knee in bad shape. “Perimeter’s clear, Six. We’re heading in.”
“Aye,” Ty managed, and they watched Nick melt back into the moonless night. Another figure silently joined him, helping him limp away.
Earl stood and took a deep, unsteady breath. “Early morning coming. Best to get a good night’s sleep.” He gave both Ty and Zane a long, tight hug. Mara did the same as she followed him. “Good night, boys. Harrison.”
Harrison was nodding like he just couldn’t manage to find words. Zane knew how he felt. He supposed “good night” was so much easier than “good-bye.”
“Night, Dad!” Earl shouted to Ty’s grandfather.
Chester gave him a modified salute, his gnarled fingers waving through the air before gripping his shovel again. It sat on his thighs as he rocked.
Harrison took a last couple sips of his coffee before standing. “I guess I’ll turn in too,” he said, and he waited only a few seconds before giving Zane a fierce hug. He added a kiss on the cheek that caused his mustache to tickle Zane’s ear, and then he did the same to Ty. “You boys . . . you boys come back, now. You hear?”
Zane’s smile was watery at best. He nodded obediently. Harrison patted him on the cheek, then gave Ty’s shoulder a squeeze before he disappeared into the house.
Ty and Zane were left on the porch with Chester, listening to the ranch go to sleep as the screen door snicked shut.
Ty’s gaze lingered on Zane. Zane knew what he was thinking without having to ask or even ponder too hard. This was their last moment of peace. The calm before the storm. The otherworldly silence before the fire.
“Oohrah, kiddo,” Chester said quietly.
Ty smiled and squeezed his eyes shut as tears trailed down his face. “Oohrah, Gunny.”
Nick sat on the side of his bunk, staring but seeing very little. It wasn’t until Kelly sat beside him that he roused himself.
“You okay?”
Nick shook his head. He wasn’t okay. He wouldn’t be okay. It was time he stopped pretending. “Everyone we love is going to die in a few days,” he said. “And I feel like I started it, instead of finishing it like I hoped to.”
The rustling from the others ceased, and Nick realized everyone in the bunkhouse was watching them, listening. He glanced around. His friends. His brothers. Men he’d spent half his life loving and sacrificing with. And then there was Liam, but he’d get a pass tonight, because Nick was finally coming to terms with being at death’s door.
“I thought I could save all of you,” he told them. “My soul for your lives.”
“Nicko, that’s not the way it works,” Kelly whispered.
Owen and Digger came closer, sitting on Kelly’s bunk across from them. Liam leaned against the end of the bunk, his arms crossed and his head lowered. He had a black eye where Kelly had slugged him earlier, but even Liam had admitted he’d deserved it.
Nick stared at Owen and Digger, remembering the day both men had joined the Force Recon team that would later be christened Sidewinder. That had been a good day. All their days had been good days.
“Do you remember that little village south of Kabul?” Owen asked. “I cleared a room but missed a trapdoor, guy popped out and had me in his sights.”
Nick nodded, frowning.
“You stepped in and got him with a knife, got him before he could get me.”
Nick shivered violently, nodding again.
“Do you regret that?” Owen asked.
“No,” Nick answered immediately.
“You don’t stay awake and mourn the life you took that day? The life of the man who was pointing his gun at me?”
Nick hesitated, frowning at Owen. “No.”
“You think that makes you a bad person?”
“What?” Nick asked, feeling his chest tighten.
“You killed that man. But you don’t regret it. Do you think that makes you a bad person?”
Nick was silent, searching himself for the answer. He found himself shaking his head. “No.”
“This is no different, Irish,” Owen said. “Burns had a gun to Ty’s head. You stepped in and got him before he could fire. It’s no different at all.”
Nick glanced at Kelly, who was nodding. Digger was silent, but he finally huffed and leaned closer. “It was dumb luck you got sent back with that message, Rico, we all know that. But I guarandamntee you if it had been me, I’d have smoked the fucker too. So you take that fucking wreath of thorns off your head and come back to us. Only way we die out there is if you let us. And you sitting here mourning your soul ain’t going to stop a bullet to my head. Your knife? Your hands? Your aim? Those will.”
“My aim,” Nick started.
“Fuck that medicine shit,” Digger snarled. “You said it wasn’t important enough for us to track some down. You’ll be you when we need you. We know it.”
Nick swallowed hard as Digger and Owen both got up and moved away. His eyes followed them back to their bunks, and then his gaze landed on Liam as the man leaned against the bed. Liam shrugged. “I’ve been trying to tell you, mate.”
“Tell him what?” Kelly growled.
“Maybe you see him through rose-colored glasses now, Doc, but I remember what he was, what all of you were, and it was god damned beautiful. Silently psychotic.” Liam inclined his head, raising an eyebrow at Nick. “You coming to terms with the fact that no one can be as good as you try to force yourself to be is the only way you’ll ever be okay again.”
Nick was still frowning at him, wondering why the hell Liam was trying to help him now after weeks of playing mind games.
“Once you realize you are the thing in the dark, you sleep easier at night. Hell. Your hands don’t even shake like they were.” He pointed to Nick’s hands, then moved away, leaving Nick and Kelly sitting there.
Nick watched his fingers tremble as he laced them together. They hadn’t risked trying to get him more medication, but Liam was right. His tremor had begun to ease up. His eyes sought out Kelly�
�s.
“You’re not a thing in the dark,” Kelly said under his breath.
“No.” Nick clutched his fingers tighter. “But I can be.”
Kelly stared at him for a long time, nodding, blue-gray eyes turning to quartz granite. “Then we’ll be things in the dark together.”
“I feel like I need to go talk to them,” Ty said as he stared out the window of Zane’s bedroom at the dark bunkhouse. Zane wasn’t sure what was drawing Ty there, but the pull was as strong as the one Zane had offered here.
“Go do it, then,” Zane said. “I need Kelly to wrap my arm again; I could go with you.”
Ty scowled at him. “I thought you said it was okay.”
Zane shrugged, beginning to unwrap the immobilizing bandage on his arm. He spread his fingers, wincing.
Ty rounded on him, anger seeming to bubble up from somewhere he’d been storing it for too long. “How the hell are you supposed to shoot a gun? Throw a knife? You couldn’t even crank the fucking car this morning.”
“I’m not willing to hurt myself to turn a key, Ty, but I’ll be okay when the fighting starts.”
“Prove it,” Ty challenged.
Zane huffed a laugh. “How? You want me to kill Tanner again? Want to try and kick my ass now that we don’t have anyone else to fight? Just go and get whatever you need from Sidewinder and let me deal with this. Go give Nick hell for getting himself beat up too, make it fair.” He held up his hand. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
Ty narrowed his eyes.
Zane turned away to dig into his duffel bag for fresh clothes. When he straightened up once more, Ty was behind him. He wrapped his arm around Zane’s neck, kicked at his heel, and upended him easily, slamming him to the floor with a thud that rattled the bedside table next to them. Zane cried out when he hit.
Ty knelt over him and pressed his knee into Zane’s chest to keep him down.
“Son of a bitch! You trying to break my fucking back?” Zane ground out, both hands trying to dislodge Ty’s knee. He really didn’t want to hurt Ty, but he was on the edge of losing his temper. “Get off, Grady!”
Ty raised an eyebrow, obviously contemplating refusing. But he removed his knee and stood fluidly, then offered his hand. Zane not only didn’t take it, he batted it out of the way as he struggled to his feet.
“What the fuck was that about?” Zane snapped, grabbing his sweatpants and yanking them on. He was barely keeping it under control. It would hurt to get into another physical fight with Ty—a lot—but he was about to do it anyway.
“You really think I should be able to do that to you, Garrett?” Ty asked.
“Why the hell would I be on alert in my own bedroom with no pants on when the only threat is my husband stomping around in a shitty mood?” Zane snapped as he dug into the duffel with his left hand, holding his right arm against his body. “You’re an idiot.”
“Never stopped you from being on alert before,” Ty pointed out. “You’re hurt.”
“Yeah, I am now! Everything hurts.” Zane pulled a T-shirt over his head, forcing himself to quit favoring his injured arm.
“Your face looks like you went three rounds with a kangaroo.”
“If you want to call yourself a kangaroo, fine.” Zane gave him a sideways glance. Man had a lot of nerve, bitching at him for being beaten up by him.
“I did all that?” Ty asked carefully.
“Tanner never got a swing in.”
“You fucking idiot,” Ty hissed. “Fighting him like that when Irish could have just taken the shot.”
Zane sat on the side of the bed, calming himself, prepared to let Ty rail at him now that he understood where this anger was coming from. Ty needed to rail at something, and Zane was okay with being the target. For a minute.
For some reason, the patient silence and acceptance made Ty even angrier, though. “You could have died, you realize that? You could have died because you’re stubborn and stupid, and the last kiss we shared would have been with questionable chicken sandwich on my breath!” Ty shouted, fluttering his fingers in front of his mouth and sneering.
Zane nodded, pressing his lips together tightly so he wouldn’t laugh.
“It’s not funny!” Ty cried. “What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking about Becky,” Zane admitted. Ty came up short, his mouth snapping shut. “I was thinking about how damn much I loved her. I was thinking about how I spiraled after I lost her. I was thinking about sitting at the dinner table with her hand in mine, and Jack Tanner across from me eating steak.”
Ty nodded minutely as he appeared to try to compose himself. When he looked back up, his eyes were full of grief and fear. “I hadn’t . . . seen that angle. I’m sorry.”
Zane closed his eyes. “She’d have really liked you, Beaumont.”
Ty chewed on his lip, looking torn. “She helped you be the man I fell in love with. I owe her everything I have.”
Zane stood and took a step toward him, placing the tips of his fingers against Ty’s cheekbones.
“Please stay here when we leave,” Ty whispered. “Stay with Nick.”
Zane’s lips curled and he backed off, anger welling again. He turned away from Ty, cursing as he returned to his duffel.
“Zane.”
Even through the anger, that soft plea was enough to get Zane’s attention. He stopped his jerky motions and waited.
“Zane,” Ty repeated, and his hand came to rest on Zane’s back. “I love you. I trust you. I know you can do anything I can do, and you can do it just as good or better. But you’re hurt. Too hurt to come with us.”
Zane closed his eyes, surprised when they burned with the threat of tears. He turned his head, and he found Ty gazing at him, his hazel eyes gone dark with sorrow.
“Zane,” he whispered again, seeming to linger on the way the name sounded on his tongue. “I don’t want you to die because you’re stubborn.”
The tightening in Zane’s chest relaxed and he was able to take a breath without forcing it. “I love you, Tyler Grady,” he said. “And I’m too stubborn to let you die without me.”
Zane knocked on the bunkhouse door, head lowered as he listened to the guys moving inside. The door opened enough for the barrel of a gun to appear. Zane held his hands up. “I come in peace.”
Digger shoved the door wider. “You’re not the newlywed I thought I was about to shoot.”
“I get that a lot,” Zane deadpanned.
Digger gestured Zane in with his gun, which he then shoved under his belt at the small of his back.
Owen was leaning against the kitchen counter, talking on the burner phone. From the tone of his voice, Zane assumed he was speaking to his girlfriend. Nick and Kelly were both sitting on the couch, examining a framed map on the table in front of them. Zane recognized it as the ranch. He wondered where the hell they’d stolen that from, and if his mom would notice before they could get the fuck out of Dodge.
Liam was lounging in his bunk, smoking a cigarette. Zane was surprised to see Nick with an unlit cigarette behind his ear, and another being used as a pointer.
Zane followed Digger to the couch, sitting opposite Kelly and Nick. “What are you doing?”
Nick sighed, eyes darting between Kelly and Digger before returning to the map again. He swallowed nervously, which made the butterflies in Zane’s stomach start up. If Nick was nervous, then everybody should be nervous.
“We’re looking for a landing strip on the property,” Nick admitted.
“What, why?”
“Egress for the families, in case we don’t come back.”
The implication hit Zane hard. Sidewinder was sitting here planning how to keep the Gradys and Garretts safe for when they all died in Miami.
“What the hell?” Zane blurted, lurching to his feet. “What? Sitting out here all ‘be careful, we might get hurt’? There’s no way to go into this but knowing we come back.”
They all watched him impassively. Finally, Kelly sighed. “Yo
u haven’t lived in the same world we have. You never assume you come back.”
“And when you do, it’s a goddamned miracle every time,” Digger added.
Zane stared, his mouth hanging open. “Wow.” He shook his head and aimed for the door, refusing to sit in on this conversation. “No wonder Ty’s fucking nuts.”
When he jerked the door open, Ty was standing there, a bag over his shoulder, fist raised to knock, eyes wide. “Hey,” he said awkwardly.
Zane sighed and hung his head, stepping aside to let Ty in.
Ty gave him a good once-over, then glanced around at the others. “What’s going on?”
“They’re planning the fucking funeral out here,” Zane spat.
Ty didn’t look angry or shocked, merely confused. He took in the map on the table and the grim expressions of the others, then pursed his lips, nodding.
Zane stared at him, unable to comprehend that sort of backup plan. “What’s the fucking point of this if we don’t think we’re coming back?”
On the other side of the room, Owen was eyeing them, his ear to the phone. “Honey, I have to go,” he said without taking his eyes off Zane.
Ty reached for Zane’s arm, but Zane jerked out of his grasp and paced away.
“I thought you were supposed to be this mythical fucking creature or something. Sidewinder,” he intoned sarcastically. “This bunch of invincible, crazy warriors, up for anything. You’re just scared little boys sitting in a tree house, trying to figure out how to sneak back inside once your mama turns off the lights!”
“Rude,” Digger huffed. None of the others spoke, though.
Zane turned to Ty, his heart racing, anger and helplessness coursing through him.
Ty smiled sadly. “This is the way we’ve always done it, Zane. It doesn’t mean we intend to die out there. It just . . .”
“If we do, it’ll be with no regrets,” Owen offered when Ty’s explanation faltered. “You say good-bye first. When the bullet hits, you won’t wish you’d told anyone you loved them one last time.”