Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
"What if she doesn’t forgive me?"
Duke didn’t respond right away. He just stirred his coffee in slow, deliberate circles, staring at it like the answer might be at the bottom of the cup. For so long, he didn’t say a thing, and I started to think that was my answer right there—silence.
Then, he sighed heavily and leaned back, the cheap plastic chair beneath him groaning under his weight. "Kyle came to me years ago," he said, his voice low and raw. "She had no one, and fuck me…" He dragged a hand down his face, exhaustion carved into every deep line. "She was broken, Jagger."
I swallowed, waiting.
"I knew, deep down, she knew the letter was bullshit. But how do you make sense of everything—every fucked-up thing you’ve ever been through—when the last image you have of your mother is her brains splattered on the wall?"
His voice was rough, carrying the weight of years spent trying to help her heal. The last few days had aged him more than I had ever seen before, and if that wasn’t proof of how much Kyle meant to him, I didn’t know what was. She would never understand how special she was, how much she meant to the people who had fought beside her, protected her, bled for her.
"She needed time," Duke continued. "And once she makes sense of it, she’ll move forward." He shook his head, exhaling. "She’s complex as hell, Jagger. You know she’s never let anyone in, feelings give her the willies.”
We both chuckled at that. That was an understatement.
“But she let you in. She let me in. And she was starting to let Preacher in.”
I nodded slowly, holding on to his words like a lifeline, because that was all I could do—hope he was right. I had never been a religious man. A guy like me, who had done the things I had done, would be a fucking hypocrite if he was.
But if I had ever been the kind of man who prayed, I would have been praying right then.
When we got back to Kyle’s hospital room, Data was already there. He stood by the bed, fists clenched, his entire body vibrating with restless energy. I had never seen him pissed before, at least not like this.
Data had always been the definition of controlled chaos. With his short mohawk, big gauges, tattoos snaking down his arms, and thick-framed glasses, he looked more like a cool nerd than the tech genius he was. He was always typing, always building something technical, and always moving. His ADHD made him restless, but he had found an anchor in his work. This, though, this was different. This wasn’t just his usual wired energy, this was pure fucking fury.
Preacher beat me to it. “Jared?”
Duke stiffened beside me. My jaw clenched. I fucking hated that guy.
“What about him?” Duke snapped, patience gone in an instant.
Data bounced on the balls of his feet, his jaw tight, and then he dropped the bomb. “It was him.”
Silence. The kind of silence that suffocates a room, thick and choking, heavy with unspoken rage.
“It can’t have been, Data.” Duke’s voice was low, edged with something dangerous. “He wasn’t there.”
Duke knew the details of Kyle’s mission, knew who had been deployed and who hadn’t. When he told us weeks ago that Jared wasn’t involved, we had been relieved. Now, that relief was gone.
Data reached into his bag, pulled out a thick folder, and handed it to Duke. “He arrived six days before the op.”
Duke’s fingers tightened around the file as he flipped through the pages, his eyes scanning the reports with the intensity of a man bracing for the worst. Then he froze. Yanking out the last page, he stared at it for half a second before his face twisted into something murderous.
“You didn’t think to tell me she asked for this shit?!” His roar exploded through the hospital room.
Data didn’t even flinch.
“Did you read what it says?” Duke snarled, shoving the paper toward him. “He gave away their exact fucking location!”
“She asked me not to,” Data replied, holding his gaze, his voice steady. “She was worried that the rat in the MC would pass it back.”
Preacher got up and paced toward the window, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched. Jared had handed them over. Three men had died, and two more had lost their fights after making it back. Kyle had almost bled out on foreign soil because of him.
I flexed my fingers, trying to keep my rage in check. “What the fuck is he up to?”
Duke’s face was stone. “I don’t fucking know.” Then his expression darkened, his voice dropping into something lethal. “But I’m gonna find out.” He turned, already moving. “Data, with me.”
We didn’t say a word as they left. Preacher and I sat in silence, knowing there were ears everywhere. But when our eyes met, we didn’t need to say a fucking thing.