Page 85 of Love Finds Home

“Does it come with hot coffee?”

“It can. Send me your location.”

He hangs up, probably halfway out the door already, and I ping him the location. At least I won’t be here alone, dying of boredom.

Forty-five minutes later, Joker’s joined me in the truck’s cab with a fresh cup of coffee.

“Thanks,” I say, lifting the hot beverage to my lips. “This sucks,” I tell him, pointing to the building that I’m positive is empty.

“Money’s money, man.”

“Agreed.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes, lost in our own thoughts, when I bite the bullet and ask the question that’s been on my mind for a while.

“I need to ask you something,” I start, gathering my thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“The bomb. In the desert. The one I wasn’t there for.”

“What about it?”

“How bad was it, really? What happened that day?”

“Wait, you don’t know what happened?” He looks at me with surprise on his face.

I shake my head. “By the time I was released from the hospital, they’d already started processing me out. I wasn’t privy to any information, especially mission reports.”

“And how much guilt have you been walking around with for almost six years?”

“Oh, I’d guess my fair share?” I cringe.

“That’s what I thought. You think because he took point that’s why he got hurt when you’d always been point man.”

Not a question. A knowing statement. Joker has always seen through everyone’s bullshit.

“Am I wrong?”

“Captain,” Joker uses my title, snapping me back in time and to attention. “With all due respect, you weren’t that great of a point man. You didn’t have the power to direct bombs to only explode where you were. Fucking idiot.”

He reaches over and punches me in the arm and it takes everything I have not to flinch. He still smirks.

“If you had been there, that bomb still would have gone off where Danny-boy was standing. It wouldn’t have changed a fucking thing, other than you could have gotten hurt or killed, too.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means the whole fucking thing was a setup to take Daniel out of it.”

“Who the fuck would do that?”

“Closky.”

“His best friend?” I ask, astonished. “Our fourth?”

“The one and only.”

“How? Why?”

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