Page 76 of Brutal Savior

I squeeze my eyes closed, tears collecting as I press my hand to my head and heave in a breath that burns on its way down. The relief almost has me sobbing like a baby. It’s a lungful of air after almost drowning. I try to speak but can’t make the words come out.

“Jacob? You there, my boy?”

Another rough breath, and I swipe at my eyes. “I’m here. I’ll be there soon. Just stay with the men until I get there, okay? Don’t give them any strife.”

“Roger that.” Grandad’s voice is subdued. He must have picked up on my distress. He’s always been able to, no matter how much I played the tough guy. “I’ll be good as gold. See ya soon.”

I angle away from the soldiers, collecting myself as we come in to land. As I pull off the headset and exit the chopper, my relief ebbs away into anger. This fucking bitch, whoever she is, just made her last mistake. From this point on, all I care about is hunting her down.

I instruct the guys to arrange accommodation for Grandad at a local hotel and to take him straight there. He’s a tough old bloke, but he’s getting on a bit, and I don’t want him to see the smoldering ruins of his house. I’ll meet him at his hotel as soon as I’ve checked the scene of the fire.

I’ve tried to keep him focused on everything except what is happening, keeping conversation away from Ruth’s attacker and assuring him we’ve got everything in hand. It’s all been a lie. I’ve been distracted, my mind pulled six ways all at once, and that needs to stop.

The Gilda are already combing the ruins of the house, the fire extinguished, tramping through everything. The scene is a fucking mess. The bloke who seems to be in charge marches over as soon as he sees me. “Sir. Your grandfather is—”

“I know. I’ve spoken to him. What have you found?”

He nods, all business. “Delayed action incendiary, sir. Whoever set it knew your grandfather’s usual pattern. It’s pure luck he decided to go out tonight.”

My heart shudders. Pure luck. “And just how the fuck did this device get into his house?”

The soldier looks away, lips tight. “The cleaning service came today. All looked legit—correct ID, and she gave the right code.”

“And was all her equipment searched thoroughly?”

The soldier pauses before answering, and I know what’s coming. “I believe not, sir. The men let her through.”

Useless fucks. “Tell Brackis if the stupid bastards responsible still have jobs tomorrow, they’ll answer to me personally.”

The soldier nods. “Understood.”

“I want surveillance footage, info from the cleaning company, and everything that can be found on the vehicle.” I pause, taking in the area. I should stay and oversee the investigation, but the pull toward Grandad is stronger. I won’t be able to focus until I’ve seen him with my own eyes and got him settled. “And take me to my grandad.”

Ten minutes later, we pull up to a small but pleasant local hotel. Four stars, nothing flashy, but easy to surround with men. I grudgingly approve the choice, then follow the soldier to Grandad’s room.

The two guards communicate via phone, and the one inside who has been babysitting Grandad opens the door. I enter. “You can leave us now. Wait outside the door.”

The guard, young and with bright ginger hair, actually salutes me. “Yes, sir.”

I don’t bother to correct him.

The room is the boring, inoffensive type favored by companies booking employee trips. Generic artwork, a small TV, and a queen-sized bed, covers tucked in so tight even I couldn’t have done it neater. The only incongruous thing is a huge potted plant with wide, dark green leaves. I step around it to Grandad, who sits on the edge of the bed.

Shit, he looks old. Heisold, but being it and looking it are two different things. Rotten guilt curdles my guts. If it weren’t for me, he’d still be living in his little terraced house where he knew all his neighbors. Still drinking at his local, watching the footy every Sunday. Heading to the dog track on Saturdays with his mate Clive, who went to the same school as him.

I wanted a better life for him. A long, healthy life. I thought joining the Brotherhood would give me the means to make things better for my family, but just look at him. I’ve taken him away from everything he knows and dumped him in the shit.

Only a few strands of silver hair still cling to his head, but his mustache looks the same as it has for as long as I can remember. Gray and bristly. He looks up and gives me a weak smile. “There you are, lad. What’s with the penguin suit? You been to a wedding or something?”

I frown, then realize I’m still in my evening wear. I hadn’t given it a second’s thought. “Just a work thing.”

I take a seat next to him on the bed, and the soft mattress squashes under my weight. “Got a bit of bad news. You’re lucky you were at the pub. Your house burnt down. I’m really sorry. This is all my fault.”

My voice cracks as I finish the sentence, and my shoulders slump. There’s a long, painful silence, filled only with our breathing and a distant siren whining past on the road outside.

“My fuckin’ house? When I was at bingo?”

The sharp note to his voice snaps my head up. The steel I remember from my childhood is still there, underneath the old man’s quaver.

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