Page 24 of Enforce This

I laughed and stepped into a pair of boxers.

I forgot how funny Oak could be when he panicked. It wasn’t often he did so, and besides, I hadn’t seen my best friend in two years.

“Let’s catch up.” I nodded toward the porch, aware that she could hear our every word.

He held out the joint and I took it from him before leading the way. He parked himself next to me as I leaned against the railing and lit up the joint.

“So– How long have you been nailing his fucking daughter man…?”

“I’m not… I mean, we’re not… I don’t know what the fuck that was,” I admitted, exhaling a cloud of some excellent herb.

I held it out to him, but as always, he waved it away.

Oak liked the smell of weed, but he couldn’t smoke it. He had to stay clean as long as he was active with the military.

“They let you come home for your brother’s funeral,” I tried to change the subject.

“No. I was reassigned to that base by the river. They want me to train new recruits.”

“You’re going to be a drill sergeant?” I knew he was qualified, but I didn’t know it was something he had an interest in.

“I’d train a goddamn billy goat to do the Macarena if it means I can stay over here.”

We both laughed.

“I’m serious. I’ve only been stateside long enough to check in… And that,” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder toward the house. “That’s the best fucking thing I’ve smelled in two years.”

I laughed, knowing exactly what he meant.

He shook his head. “I’ve been over there for nearly eight years now, brother. It’s enough.”

I nodded completely understanding.

“I’m on a forty-eight-hour leave. I intend to burn my brother, leave you with his ashes, get through these next six months and put my military career behind me.”

I grunted.

“I mean it. Promise me, E…”

I looked toward him, suddenly confused.

“Promise me nobody pulls the trigger on Demitri Valentino but me. That son of a bitch killed my brother… I saw the patch on the counter. You’re the Sergeant… Now, promise me he’s mine.”

I saw the pain and restraint in my best friend's eyes, but before I could say shit a gunshot rang out from inside the cabin.

“What the fuck?” Oak exclaimed, shooting off the banister.

We collided at the doorway, when we both tried to squeeze inside at the same time. By the time we reached the kitchen, a pool of blood was spreading toward the refrigerator.

In the center of the mess, in a crisp, navy-blue suit was Guissupe Valentino.

“Is that…?” Oak asked, unable to finish his sentence.

“Demitri and Damien’s half-brother,” I answered him.

The gun was laying on the floor at Trista’s feet. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was slack as she stared down at the man she had killed.

“If you hadn’t done it, he would have killed you.” I started with those words, because I knew from experience, they were the ones that counted most.

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