Page 66 of The Art of Dying

“You know Mason will come back,” I said. “And what better time than when you’re gone?”

He shook his head. “He’s healing, and he’s lost the element of surprise.”

“Does it matter? He escaped a military transport on a military base. I don’t think he’s the least bit concerned about any element of surprise. He’s arrogant, Kitsch. He thinks he’s untouchable.”

“Well, Naomi and Caroline should’ve squashed that theory,” he grumbled.

“This is a huge operation, with the survival of an entire government at stake, one the US clearly wants to stay in power. Is the commander the only one calling the shots now? Or are their more agencies involved?”

He shook his head. “No more questions, Mack. All we need to focus on is that when my ETS comes up, I’m retiring, and if Mason’s not in custody or dead, he’ll be begging for one or the other by the time I’m done with him.”

I frowned, dubious. “You’re leaving your team.”

“I have something lined up. Similar. Contract work. It pays way better and I’ll be freed up to take up some hobbies.”

My expression didn’t change.

He laughed once. “What?”

“What kind of hobbies?”

“The kind that ties up loose ends.”

“You mean Mason,” I said.

“You promised no more questions.”

“I can ask if it doesn’t have to do with the military.”

He chuckled. “No. It doesn’t work like that, honey. But think about it. We can get everything paid off. You can get that Escalade you’ve been wanting.”

“Thatyou’vebeen wanting. So, it’s about the money and not Mason?”

He finally put the dish in his hands away. “They’ll probably find him by then. But the game has changed, Mack. He was in our house. He’s insane, and he… I need the freedom to be home when I need to be.”

I rinsed the last dish and handed it to him. “Don’t act like you’re going to forget about it until then.”

“No, baby. I never forget. But he better hope it’s people who adhere to legal protocol who find him. Because if I do…”

“You have no idea who or what he’s mixed up with. Kitsch, listen to me. Please, please be careful.”

“I know they’re connected enough to infiltrate MARSOC. If I figure this out, Mack… it could save a lot of lives. If we’d read the letters, I would’ve known before we left, and I could’ve stopped it. Kepner would still be here.”

“Kitsch…”

He dried the dish and put it away, then turned to cup my chin, grinning as if my concerns were silly. “I have it handled, honey.”

He began to walk away but stopped when I spoke again. “That’s not fair, you know. I had no idea what was in those letters could’ve hurt any of you half a world away. Don’t you think I’d take it back if I could?”

He didn’t turn around, he only sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But you’ve thought it.”

He turned to me. “I blame myself. I should’ve read them.”

“But I wouldn’t let you because I was crazy enough to believe that if those letters stayed inside the drawer, unopened, he couldn’t hurt me.”

He must’ve heard one of the kids rouse, because he leaned back to check the hall, waited a few moments and then lowered his voice. “He put you through a lot. I can’t tell you how to cope.”

---