Page 5 of Oath
“I’m listening,” I said, not looking at him.
“You know this isn’t all on you, right?”
I didn’t answer immediately. That was the kind of thing people said when they meant well, but didn’t understand. Or did—and didn’t want to deal with what came next.
“I put Doc on that job,” I said quietly. “I put all of you out there. Told you we had your backs.”
Alphabet exhaled, slow and tired, like he’d been holding that breath too.
“You did have our backs,” he said. “We’re both alive because you had our backs.”
“He went home. Rebuilt a life and now someone took his sister. He wants us here to protect his girl, his kids, him—he’s the walking wounded in that warehouse and under guard like a civilian. That’s not who he is or was.”
“People get hit in this world. He’s alive, Bones. He’s not blaming you.” Alphabet stared at me and waited until my gaze drifted back to him. “I don’t blame you either.”
“I don’t care if either of you do,” I said, and I meant it. “I blame me.”
Alphabet rose, grimacing again as he stretched. “You’re carrying all of it. That’s not tactical. That’s emotional.”
“Everything about this is emotional,” I snapped, then lowered my voice as I glanced toward the bedroom door. No sound. No movement. Grace was still asleep. “You think I’m splitting hairs because I want to? This is personal. But Grace…”
My throat locked up for a second. I pushed on.
“She’s different. I can’t risk her being part of this, Alphabet. None of us can. It’s one thing when we’re working her job, but this one is about standing in front of the bullets. She’s not built for that.” Even if she was, I wasn’t.
“You sure about that?” he asked. Not antagonistic—just curious.
“She’s survived a lot. Doesn’t mean I want to add more to her list.” I tapped my fingers against the ceramic mug, tension ticking in time. “Every time I see her upset, every time she glares or throws something or tries to argue her way in, I see it—she thinks I’m locking her out. I’m not. I’m keeping her alive.”
Alphabet was quiet for a long beat. Then, “You love her.”
I gave him a look.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t say it. Doesn’t mean it’s not obvious.”
“It’s not about love,” I muttered. “It’s about obligation.”
He snorted. “That’s a lie you tell yourself so you don’t have to admit how much this is fucking with you.”
I didn’t argue. Couldn’t.
“I need the lines clear,” I said instead. “She doesn’t belong in the same world as the Vandals. They’re Doc’s kids and they might not be the worst people but they’re criminals.”
They came with their own enemies. Grace had enough problems, she did not need these.
“No one’s about to let that happen to her.” Alphabet glanced down at Goblin who’d come to lean against his leg. “She matters to us too, you know.”
“I’m not blind.” It came out clipped. “This fight isn’t hers.”
His expression tightened. “I get it. You’re on edge. But if you shut everyone out trying to control the chaos, you’ll miss something. You can’t see every angle.”
“I have to.”
“Youwantto. But that’s different.” He leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Let us carry some of it. That’s why we’re here. And Grace? She’s smart. She’s fierce as hell. You give her a little more clarity, she might stop throwing frogs at your head.”
That drew a half-huff of a laugh out of me. “That thing hurt.”
“She’s got good aim.”
