Page 3 of On the Double

“Libby—”

“No!” she shouted, pushing back from my arms. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to excuse what he did!”

“He didn’t tell any of us,” I tried to reason with her.

Her nostrils flared in anger. The pink tinge of her cheeks grew with every second that passed. “I’m his wife. I’m the one person in this world he’s supposed to tell everything to. I’ve been there with him through everything—” she choked out. “I did anything he asked without question and?—”

She shook her head, unable to go on as she stared down at all that was left of her husband. Her fist clenched as she sucked back the tears and steeled her spine. Brushing away the wetness from her cheeks, I knew she was shutting down.

“We should bury him. The plot is ready and—I’ve already found a minister who can be there.”

“We should plan a service.”

“For who?” she snapped. “The only people who knew or cared about him are already here. Why wait?”

“To give you time to grieve.”

“I’ve done my grieving. The moment he called me, I knew it wasover.” She shook her head in disgust. “Rafe always was a selfish prick.”

She turned and walked away from all of us. I wished there was something I could do or say to help her. She was hurting so badly, but until she came to terms with what Rafe did and why, she would never really get over his betrayal.

Because that’s what it was to her. He had broken every vow he made to her to save his sister. And as valiant as that was, he broke her in the process. She wasn’t even part of the decision-making, which I knew would have eased the pain of knowing what would happen. Now, everything was in a tailspin.

I turned back to my men, who had wheeled the casket over to me. “Libby wants the service to be held now.”

“Now?” Red asked. “But we don’t have anything lined up.”

“She’s already taken care of it. She wants this over as soon as possible.”

“What about you, boss?” Lock asked. “He’s your family.”

“He’s her husband, and I can’t blame her for the way she’s feeling. Maybe it would be better for everyone to lay him to rest so we can all find some peace.”

Neither of them looked like they agreed, but they didn’t argue with me. Eva walked over to me, her eyes welling with tears as she snuggled into my arms.

“How are you?”

How was I? I still didn’t know the answer to that question. I hadn’t yet told Libby about my part in Rafe’s death. Guilt overwhelmed me as I struggled to come to grips with what I had done. And when I returned home after that fateful day, I hadn’t even been able to discuss it with Eva. She already knew he was dead just by looking at me. But as for the part I played…shame overwhelmed me. I didn’t want her to see me as the man who couldn’t save his brother. What did that say about me? What if something happened to her? Would she lose all faith that I could keep her safe?

“I’ll be fine.”

“Will you?” she asked.

Anger washed over me, though it was completely uncalled for. Ipushed away from her, feeling my own inadequacy taking hold. “I don’t need you to baby me. He’s dead. There’s nothing more I can do for him.”

She flinched back at my harsh response. “Cash, I just want to help.”

“I don’t need help. He brought this on himself. He pushed and pushed, refusing to let anyone help him. Why would I feel any responsibility for his actions?” I snapped.

“I didn’t say you should.”

I could tell by the way she was looking at me that she knew something else was going on. Instead of reassuring her that I was fine, I made things worse. I exposed my weakness and she wouldn’t give up now. Maybe she’d leave me alone for a time, but soon, she would come after me, and she wouldn’t stop until my soul was laid bare to her.

I watched as she walked away, refusing to show how much I had hurt her. I scrubbed a hand over my face. Closing my eyes only made it worse. I couldn’t sleep. Every fucking time I tried, that shot ricocheted through my head. The way his head snapped back—the lifeless body that hung on the stake as men laughed and jeered.

I failed him in every way. He was gone because I wasn’t strong enough. Rafe wouldn’t have failed. Even in death, he always won. He’d succeeded in completing his mission. Maybe that was the real difference between Rafe and me. He had our father’s perseverance. He was built to see things through to the end. I was the rule follower. I played by the rules of the law. Yet, when it mattered most—when my brother’s life was on the line, I hadn’t found a way to get to him and save his life.

He was dead because of me.

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