Page 76 of Damned
Chance picked that moment to chime in with a quiet, “You need a hand, brother?”
In Sin Boys code, that usually meant he was offering applause. Kruze glanced over his shoulder as Berfendestuck a soggy but pretty boot into a fairly decent foothold and hoisted his rear-end up. Josephus had yet to even touch the wall. He kept fussing he wasn’t good enough to climb “such an extraordinary mountain.”
There stood Chance, hidden in the shadows a few yards away on the deer trail, dressed in black and gray cammies, prepared to assist. Man, he looked good and healthy. Robust. Happy.
Chance was the big brother Kruze had never strived to emulate. Yet Chance had survived a ton of shit in his Navy career, and look at him. Still valiant and as strong as one of those two horses he’d bought Suede. He’d fathered a son, for the love of God. He had everything Kruze wanted. And in his big brotherly way, like it or not, Chance would always be there for him.
For the first time in years, Kruze wanted that assist from his brother, not just a‘Hands-off. I’ve got it. Let me do things my way.’He offered the barest nod and dropped one hand to his pant leg long enough to send Chance the okay sign.
Chance came back with a murmured,“You plan on doing this quick and dirty, or are you really going to babysit those bastards all the way up? Sinclair did say end them with prejudice, Kruze. Pagan’s already got Bree. She’s safe. Vick’s right now in chains on an FBI helo out of here, courtesy of Sullivan. Let’s end these bastards together. Finish them and leave what’s left for bears to clean up. It’s time you went home.”
The black basalt wall shimmered, and Kruze looked down at his boots. He was so damned sick and tired, and he loved Bree with every piece of his broken, beat-up heart. But he wanted to be the one who ended Berfendeand Josephus. They’d traumatized her. They still planned to torture her. They deserved to die as painfully as Kruze could manage.
Right on cue, his earpiece crackled to life.“Kruze?”Gawddamn, it was Bree.“Come home to me, honey. I need you. Robin and Baby Bean need you, too.”
Baby Bean.Not fair. Pagan shouldn’t have let her do that.
“Sweetheart,” mumbled out of Kruze’s big mouth before he realized what he’d done.
Berfendewas maybe ten feet up the stone face by then, but the bastard heard, damn it. “Traitor!” he shrieked. “Who are you talking to?” A tiny, pearl-handled derringer slid into his palm, and—
BLAM!Kruze shot the son of a bitch. A bright red splat blossomed in the center of his forehead. He let go and tumbled backward. In the seconds it took the general’s body to brush past Josephus, he had a Walther PPK in Kruze’s face.
Kruze never blinked, just fired. Trusting muscle memory. Trusting Chance. Trusting God.
But sometimes things didn’t work out like a guy wanted. The kinetic force of Josephus’s round blew Kruze off his feet. He lay there dazed, blinking up at a beautiful blue sky framed by basalt black and green pine boughs. Until Chance leaned over him and spoiled everything.
“There, are you happy now? They’re both dead, but you’re… God, you’re… No!” Chance ripped Vick’s vest off Kruze’s shoulders. His button-up shirt went next, the one he’d worn when he’d met up with Bree at that… that…
Kee-rist, he couldn’t remember where he’d been or why he’d been there. That night seemed so long ago.
The energy pouring off Chance intensified like a flash fire. He’d already secured Berfendeand Josephus’ weapons, then slapped his blow-out bag on Kruze’s belly. Chance bellowed at Pagan to, “Send a helo! Need medics! Bring Bree! Help!”
“Not Bree,” Kruze whispered. He was caught in a maelstrom of burning fire. Everywhere he looked, the lovely scenery was turning to ash. Black consumed the pines and the sky. Even the black basalt mountain seemed blacker. “Chance,” he ground out. “Please... D-D-Don’t let her see me like this. She’s been through so much, and I… I can’t lose her, too.”
Chance leaned down, so close they were nose to nose. “That woman loves you, gawddamnit. She deserves to be here when you need her.”
“But I… I…” Kruze was having a hard time focusing. Chance was a blurry mess of grays and blacks, charcoal, and—tears? “I’ve hurt her so much. I can’t… just can’t.” Kruze slapped a floppy hand over his eyes. Every muscle in his body had gone limp and cold. “Don’t let me hurt her again. I’m okay, honest. Just…”
And suddenly Bree was there, in his face and arguing. “Just what, Kruze? Die? Let me and Robin mourn for the rest of our lives because we lost you again? Because you never let us in?”
There was no way Bree could be there. He’d just talked to her. She couldn’t have gotten there that fast. And hehadlet her in. She was the only one he’d let in since… since…
Kee-rist! Since someone else, damn it. Not like he was anything to cry over, but once, just once, Kruze wanted his damned, messed-up, miserable life to count for something good and wonderful. Like Bree, not the body he’d left behind in Panama, the woman whose name he couldn’t recall at the moment. Not the endless line of women he’d used between then and now, either.
“But sugar, B-B-Bree…”
“Shut the fuck up and live!” Bree had morphed into Chance, and damn. He’d turned into a growling pissed-off beast. “Nothing matters now but you staying alive. Stay with me. You’re going to live, gawddamnit.”
Kruze doubted it, as hard as Chance was pressing on his neck. Felt like Chance had his knee stuck in his carotid artery. Swallowing was difficult. Breathing was impossible. Funny, not-funny thing about the shot Josephus got off. It missed Kruze’s face by… that… much…
But it had hit his neck. And that warm feeling? If his carotid had been hit, it was dark, oxygen-rich blood gushing out of his body like water gushed from a fire hose. Kruze knew the odds. In combat, it’d only take a minute or two to bleed out. If hemorrhagic shock didn’t set in first, an air embolism would get him. He was dying. Bree didn’t need to see that.
His arms flopped uselessly to his sides. It seemed unequivocally fair. A cosmic trade of sorts. His life for Bree’s. The world started buzzing. Darkness closed in. Chance was pressing too hard on his neck. That had to be what the noise pounding in his head was. Sounded like a herd of buffalo. A stampede.
Then… nothing.
