by Kim Faulks
Soft sobs grew louder. The brush of cloth was followed by a body blow. The sudden inhale of a breath like a stab wound to the heart. I couldn’t turn around, not yet, not until I knew he was safe…until I knew he was…really gone.
“My boy.”
I closed my eyes at the words.
“My beautiful boy.”
My damn fingers trembled, hands shook. My body screamed to get him out, bring him home. He couldn't breathe in there. Couldn’t live. Couldn’t stay in there.
It should’ve been me…
The thought took hold as the first shovel of dirt hit the casket. It should’ve been me in that hole. My shoulder flared, driving the point home. Just one more step and I’d be the one lying there—not the one standing here…listening.
“I want my boy! Give him back to me!”
She was a blur of black at my side. I spun, bent and scooped her under the arms. Stitch’s Mom thrashed in my arms, pulling away, reaching for the one thing she wanted the most…the one thing we all wanted.
Just one more minute, one more second…one more smartass comment…one more goddamn smirk. I pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her and burying my head into her neck. “I’m sorry.” I whispered with broken words. “I’m so sorry…so sorry.”
“I want my boy!”
She punched with feeble fists. I closed my eyes to the blows. I’d take them, take every last one of them. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”
The shovel scraped. Dirt hit, one gut-wrenching thud after another until that sound was burned into my mind.
I cradled Stitch’s mom in my arms and rubbed her back. Her nails gouged my skin cutting deep…I wished they’d cut deeper. I wished they’d dig all the way into the poison I held inside.
“Mrs. Weldon.”
I lifted my gaze to the pastor.
He clutched the bible in his hand. His bald head, wrinkled all the way to his brows, soft eyes narrowed in on me, and then the woman in my arms. He licked his lips and started. “I know it’s hard, Mrs. Weldon. It’s hard to understand God’s plan.”
My spine stiffened.
“We cannot know what that is. We cannot know any of this. All we can do is choose to believe in God’s plan, no matter how much pain it might bring. It’s in these darkest times that we need to believe the most. That we need to…hold on. I’m truly sorry for your loss. I’m sorry for you all. Please come and see me anytime. My door is always open, for you too, son.”
Those brown eyes settled on me. “For all of you.”
“Thank you, Father. But we’ve got a case of JD at home with our names on it. I’m sure by the night is over we’ll be having a few conversations with God,” Gunny growled and took a step toward him.
Even in slacks and a black shirt, the woman was imposing. The pastor straightened, nodded and took a step backwards. “The offer stands, Regan, for you too.”
Gunny glared at him, then turned toward me and dropped her gaze. “Come on Ann-Marie. Let’s take you some place nice and quiet, huh? Some place you can yell and scream and let it all out. God knows we all need that, or we can shoot something, how about that?”
The woman in my arms nodded. I pulled her close, taking the first step toward the car. “Let me drive you. Come on, that’s the way.”
She curled under my arm and followed every step as I led her to my car. I jerked open the passenger’s door and helped her inside. Her sobs died away. A vacant gaze replaced the pain. I rounded the front of the car and climbed inside.
Gunny started the engine, waiting for Ace and Irwin to climb in the backseat. I turned my head to the workmen filling the grave shovel by shovel.
We buried our brother today.
My chest tightened and the cold ache returned. I shoved the car into gear and pulled out behind Gunny’s Jeep. The drive was filled with mournful silence. I stole glances at my best mate’s mom.
She was smaller than I remembered, a tiny frame that fit perfectly under my arm and light strawberry hair that brushed the tops of her shoulders. I reached across the seat and grasped her hand. Knotted knuckles gripped mine. She raised her head and smiled.
The ache in my chest flared with that sad, pathetic attempt. It wasn’t just her height, or the slight stoop in her spine. It was her heart, her soul. It was all the days to come, and all the wonderful moments she’d lost.
“I promise you—” I started. A hard stone wedged in the back of my throat. I opened my mouth to finish the words and couldn’t.
She squeezed my fingers as I drove in silence and tried to swallow the guilt and the hurt and hoped to Hell it didn’t choke me.
Cars line the street in front of the house. Bottles of JD and flowers crowded the pathway around the open gate. I glanced along the street as I pulled into the driveway. Janus and Merry lingered in the front yard of their house. They raised their gazes at the same time and waved.
We did more than protect those who lived here. We comforted, cared. We were sometimes the first humans they confided in—and the ones they came to when they had nowhere else to go.
“I don’t think I can go in there.”
I turned my head. She tightened her grip around the door handle and stared at the house.
“Don’t think I can see his things…or see all of your things for that matter.”
I shifted my gaze to the steel chain in her other hand and the dog tags that dangled.
“I gave birth to him, but you and Gunny made him feel alive. You were more family than he ever had…and for that, I’ll never stop loving you. I used to feel sad for taking him from his father, used to feel sad for tearing our family apart. But he told me you and the team were the only family he needed and that I shouldn’t ever feel sad. He said he was having the time of his life. And he did, didn’t he? He had the time of his life?”
I pulled the car up beside the house and switched off the engine.
Memories flooded in—the first time I met the guy, soaked to the skin after doing sit-ups for hours in the rain. The first time we got lumped together on a drill. His cheeky smile. His sad eyes. The time he patched me up in the field. I could write his name with the scars on my body. The guy had always been there towing his damn medic kit. Warmth spread through my chest. He’d always been there…always been…
Tears slipped from my eyes to darken my white shirt. I brushed the wet smudge and creased the fabric. Damn shirt. It was the only one I had.
“He loved you so much,” she murmured and grasped my hand. “I used to think he was…you know…”
Laughter ripped from my lips in a harsh bark.
“Then I realized I didn’t care. It didn’t matter what he was, it didn’t matter what any of you were—all that mattered was that he was loved and he loved back. That’s all that mattered…the only thing that mattered.”
Death and war had a way of bringing you close—closer than you’d ever felt before.
Love wasn’t about the happy times. Shit, it wasn’t even about the okay times.
It was the darkest moments. It was the blood and the tears, it was the dirt and the heat—it was the road to Hell and back, the one you never walked on your own—the road you walked shoulder to shoulder with those who mattered the most.
A knock on my window made me jump. I snarled at Gunny who lifted a bottle of JD and flipped me the bird. Goddamn woman was killing me.
“Let’s do this together, okay? Let’s walk in there, have a drink, and talk about the man we loved.”
Ann-Marie nodded, gripped the handle and yanked. “No weak-ass stories though. He wouldn’t want that, deal?”
My lips curled in a grin. “Deal.”
She shoved the door open and climbed from the car as I did likewise.
“You going to lock it?” She waited at the front.
I shook my head. “Nah, not around here. I can’t remember the last time I…” A black folder sat in the backseat. The edges were curled from age. Not mine. I stepped to the rear door and yanked the handle
. The folder wasn’t there yesterday. I would’ve noticed when I grabbed the groceries. I leaned across and snagged the edge, pulling the file closer. It was thick, filled with papers. I turned the binder over and stared at the insignia.
Two crescent moons meeting in the middle…Connor Corporation blazed in silver underneath. My stomach clenched.
“Alpha, everything okay?”
Her voice crowded in, but I couldn’t answer, not yet. My mind was raving, filtering through the events of the day. The folder wasn’t in the car last night, or this morning. I would’ve noticed. So that left the funeral.
Someone was playing with me…someone who didn’t want to be known.
I gripped the sheath tight and scanned the front of the house. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”
I slammed the door and pressed the remote. Lights flashed once as the locks engaged. There’d be no more sneaking, no more following. No more leaving folders in my damn car. If someone wanted to talk to me, then they need to come to me…and I’d be waiting.
I grabbed her outstretched hand and made for the back door. “I have someone living with me, someone I think you’d like.”
“Really?” She turned her head to me as I opened the door. “Is she a…shifter?”
“Yes, but she’s shy and…” Damaged.
Ann-Marie squeezed my hand. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
A low roar filled the house as the back door slammed shut behind me. Music started, ACDC blared Highway to Hell, and shit if it wasn’t our fucking creed.
I stepped into the kitchen, opened a cupboard, and shoved the file inside. Ann-Marie set off toward the front of the house to find Gunny. She didn’t have to walk far. My commander stepped into view carting filled shot glasses.
Her dark eyes glinted with a cruel edge. Those dark markings on her skin blazed as she shoved the glasses toward us and issued a command. “Drink.”
The amber liquid crested the rim in a wave and spilled. I grabbed the whiskey and bought it to my lips. One twist of the wrist and I felt the burn sliding all the way down the center of me and bleed out.
“Another,” Gunny snarled and raised the bottle to my glass.
Warmth radiated, one after another until I sucked in the frigid air and no longer felt empty. Ann-Marie took a step and wobbled. Gunny was there, catching her arm, steady as a fucking rock.
“You’re not drinking,” I growled and stared at Gunny’s empty hand.
She leveled me with a stare that made part of me shrink inside—I’d never felt that way before—had never been scared—until now.
Ann-Marie gripped Gunny close and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I think I need to sit down for a while.”
Ace was there, moving in like a silent predator, taking Stitch’s mom in his arms and guiding her toward the sofa.
“Why?” I demanded as the whiskey took hold. “Why aren’t you drinking?”
“Because I can’t control myself,” she answered.
Crescent markings flared on her skin. The longer I looked the sharper they became, black blended to silver, and then faded to flesh, like a kaleidoscope of horror…one she could never escape.
“You died…I watched you die.” The words spilled from my lips. This wound seeped, spilling things I never wanted to say. “I saw that bullet rip open your fucking chest. I watched you bleed out.”
She never answered, only stood there waiting.
I took a step closer. My heart thundered as she raised those dark eyes to me, brown bled to black and for a second I was back in that moment. Concrete cracked in my head, steel sang, bending and breaking as the building collapsed. I clenched my hand and reached for her arm, holding her widening stare. I’d never touched her…not on purpose…not like this.
Energy jumped from her skin to zap the tips of my fingers. I wrenched my hand from the sting. “What are you?”
“I’m just the same,” she answered. “The same woman, the same Marine—only with an upgrade.”
Upgrade. I swallowed the word and felt something inside me crack open. “What kind of upgrade?”
“I can command wolves somehow, and I…I can feel the moon, feel her energy—feel her power.” She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I’m scared Alpha, scared of what I can do—scared of what I might do.”
I rocked back on my heels. “That’s why you’re not drinking, isn’t it?”
Tears shimmered in her gaze as she raised her head. I swallowed and wished I had just one more drink. I’d never seen her like this, even after the attack she was cold, and distant. But this Gunny…this Gunny I’d never met before.
“I’m bleeding, Alpha. I’m bleeding on the inside and I don’t know how to stop it.”
I crossed the floor. Fuck tradition. Fuck her stubbornness. The sting bit through my shirt as I wrapped my arms around her. “It’s okay, it’s…okay. I won’t let anything happen to you, Gunny. You’re safe here.”
Those words bounced around inside my head. I glanced to the closed bedroom door. Where are you, X? Where the fuck are you?
“Drink,” I growled in her ear. “Drink and let’s get this shit done.”
She gripped me with one and raised the bottle to her lips. The glistening liquid sloshed as she swallowed one gulp after another. We stood there and drank until the glass sparkled and the amber ran dry.
“To Stitch,” Ace growled and shoved a fresh one in her hand.
“To Stitch,” Irwin repeated.
The guy looked a mess, unshaven and disheveled. He looked like he hadn’t slept or bathed since I saw him last.
A pang of guilt ate at me from the inside. I should’ve been taking care of him, should’ve been with him. I grasped the bottle from his hand. “You look like shit.”
He nodded and held out his hand. We passed the bottles from one to another while the songs became too loud and the music too bold.
“We’re going to find them,” Gunny murmured. “We’re going to find those babies and figure out the rest. I want blood.” She met my gaze, and then Ace’s and Irwin’s. “I want blood and I know you want it too.”
Ace nodded. His gaze sharpened, narrowing in on an unseen target.
“What I want, I can’t have…but I’ll settle for blood,” Irwin growled. “As long as it’s the right kind.”
Movement behind me drew Gunny’s gaze. “What’s she doing here?”
I yanked my head left and stared at X. Her face was bruised and bleeding. Her clothes were filthy and wet, soaked to her skin. But it was her hands that drew me, her fingers were cut and scratched. Her nails dark with dried blood.
“What is she doing here?” Gunny growled. “I thought she was with the other wolves, and what the fuck happened to her hair?”
The shifter crept in, keeping to the wall, and reached for the handle to her room.
“She’s staying with me,” I answered and caught X stiffen. Her face was scratched and torn. I wanted to give her some space, but Jesus. “Wait.” I reached for X.
“Like Hell she is,” Gunny growled. Her cold eyes narrowed in. “She’s an X. An unknown. I don’t know her, and I sure as fuck can’t control her, can’t take that risk she’ll get others hurt.”
I shook my head, watching X slink away. I wanted to call out to her—and ask her where the Hell she’d been, but neither of us needed that scene right now. I shot X a look, You, don’t go anywhere. I want answers. “Let her stay, Gunny.”
One shake of her head was like passing a damn sentence. I turned my head, that fucking hair… It’d haunt me for the rest of my days. “I was there first.”
“What?” Gunny growled.
I opened my eyes and turned to the only woman I’d take a bullet for…had taken a bullet for. “That day in Afghanistan, I got to you first. Seeing you there with your fucking leg hanging by…the blood. The sounds. You were screaming so loud I couldn’t hear a thing. God, there was so much blood.”
She flinched, and settled those obsidian eyes on me.
God, she could b
e cold.
“I couldn’t get to you at first. That fucking wolf was standing over you as though it’d already staked its damn claim. And then you stopped screaming and you just looked at me. I don’t know what you saw…it sure as Hell wasn’t me, but you spoke, clear as fucking day.”
I lifted my hand to my throat, reliving the moment my world changed. “Your voice was hoarse. Sounded like me after a hard night cradling the bottle. But I heard you plain as fucking day. You said, ‘let me go.’”
Her focus grew distant. She didn’t remember that day…not like I did. Which made the next part fucking brutal. “Then you said, you were ready…you were ready to fucking die, Gunny. Right there. Right then. You were gonna check out and leave us alone.”
She shook her head, but I could see the truth shining brightly in her eyes.
“So, I shot that fucking wolf point-blank in the chest. It brushed the damn thing off, like swatting a fucking fly, and then the rest of the team came. Ace fired and kept firing at the damn thing. We surrounded you, kept you covered while Stitch…” My voice gave way.
Goddamn fucking throat. I grunted, tried to clear my voice, still the brittle sound in my voice stayed. “Stitch worked on you. Put a tourniquet around your leg, saved your damn life. Even after the surgery when you refused to see us, we kept coming. Just to see you lying there, breathing, staring at the fucking wall. Because we knew sooner or later the fighter we knew and loved would come back to us. We just needed to give you a chance to survive—don’t you see that? We just needed to show you the way home.”
I needed to make her understand. I needed to make her see. “We never said a word, never flinched…not a fucking one of us, and we never brought it up—ever. Not that day. Not what we did, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. So I’m not asking for me, Gunny. I’m asking for her. I’m asking that you give the girl a chance. I’m asking that you risk a little something for her…”
I loved this woman. I bled for her. Cried for her. I’d killed for her, and now as I stared at her pitch black eyes and the markings on her arms I realized I didn’t really know her—not anymore.
She turned to the young girl standing beside her bedroom door. “Fine, she stays. But I’m telling you right here and now. If you so much as harm one hair on their fucking heads, I’ll put you down myself. You got me?”
