Page 9 of The Oath We Give

“But?”

When I glance over at him, his eyebrow is raised. His eyes are hollowed, body seeming more frail as the days pass. I may not understand how people work all the time, but I can read them, and I got that from the man in front of me.

“It’s not enough for me to want to buy them out. Their threat intelligence is weak, and that’s putting it mildly. Incident response is too slow.” I press my thumb and forefinger into my eye, hoping it makes this throbbing go away. “And I fucking hate the owner.”

He laughs. The same laugh I’ve heard nearly every day in my house for the entire span of my life. Deep and from his stomach. I wonder if that sound will echo in the halls when he’s gone or if time will steal that from me too.

Death isn’t the enemy.

It’s time.

“Yeah, he’s a bit of an ass.”

I scoff.That’s a mild evaluation.

“Son.” His hand comes over to rest on my arm, giving it a squeeze. “I know this is a lot at your age. When I was twenty-two, I was trying to figure out what bar I was going to. I never wanted to put the company in your hands this early, but—”

“I know,” I say simply. He doesn’t need to waste his energy telling me something I already understand. “It’s fine.”

“You’ve always been good at that.” His toothless smile appears. “Knowing.”

My father’s harsh diagnosis he’d received last fall meant at the ripe age of twenty-two, I’d be taking over Hawthorne Technology as acting CEO until I pass it on. I’d graduated early and had already started working beneath him at the company, much to many people’s displeasure.

Maybe it would help if they knew the last thing I want is to be learning how to take over a multibillion-dollar company. However, I know it’s not my age they are concerned about.

We all have to make sacrifices, and listening to the hushed whispers around the office about my mental competency is something I’m willing to put up with for him.He loves me, has done a lot for me, and giving him peace of mind that our family’s legacy is in good hands is the least I can do.

“You have good instincts. The best, Silas. Trust them, always. You will not fail,” he says sternly, instilling confidence in me. “I’ll let the board know we aren’t moving forward with Sync Tech.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I nod at him. Pulling it from my front pocket, I find a text from Rook. Once it unlocks, the group message he created is already opened, and a picture of him with a blunt in his mouth while he lounges on a beach is the most recent text.

The sun bounces off the black sunglasses he’s sporting, and there is a tan on his skin I’ve never seen before. There are a few new tattoos across his chest, and it makes me think of all we’ve missed in each other’s lives due to distance. However, his smirk is still Rook, still the same kid I’ve always known.

Thatcher: Your chest looks like a middle school desk.

Rook: I’ve hugged cactus nicer than you.

I scoff at the back of my throat. The two of them have yet to grow out of their boyish bickering. Unless someone stops it, they will go on forever until someone’s feelings get hurt, and it most definitely will be Rook’s.

All of Thatcher’s feelings are tied up to Lyra. He doesn’t have any left for the rest of us.

Alistair: Shut the fuck up.

There he is. Father Caldwell to the rescue. I’m surprised he didn’t tell Rook to wear sunscreen. We’ve grown apart, but at our core, we’ll know each other until we are gray.

Time, space, distance, death.

None of it will ever take away what we know for certain—that we know each other at the core of our beings. It’s never something we say out loud, just a foregone conclusion.

We are who we are. No matter where we go or how we change, there will always be this knotted, twisted string tangling each of us together. What we found in each other as kids is something we refuse to ever let go of.

They are brothers to me. Each of them. Thicker than any blood.

Thatch is the only guy I see regularly, both of us having chosen to stay in Ponderosa Springs after Stephen Sinclair was arrested. We’d even graduated college together, and the other guys had come to support.

Two years.

It’s been two years since we pressed play on a life without revenge. They feel as if they’ve moved so quickly, as if no time at all has passed by, and just yesterday, I was burying bodies.

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