I nod. I feel it every day. Every. Motherfucking. Day. I should have seen the signs. Our arguments were proof that he was struggling, but I didn’t do anything about it. I left him to suffer. That makes me just as much to blame for his death as I was his injury.
Hearing the sob Kristin can’t stifle, I pull her to sit in my lap. “It will be okay,” I promise as I draw her into my chest. “I’ll make everything right.”
Although I’m worried she’ll take my comfort the wrong way, my promise to Dane didn’t just center around his daughters. He loved Kristin, so I know without a doubt she’s part of the pledge I made. I can’t give her what she needs, but I can give her closure.
“I swear to you, I’ll make things right. Dane’s death won’t be in vain because I’ll ensure the person responsible for it is held accountable.”
I thought fulfilling one of Dane’s promises would be enough to stop guilt from eating me alive. Only now am I realizing it adds to my grief. If I had done what I had endeavored to do five years ago, the promise I’m upholding now wouldn’t have been needed. Dane would be here, holding his wife in his arms. Instead, he’s gone. Forgotten. Never to be the man he was destined to be. And the blame for all that lands on one man’s shoulders: Isaac Holt.
I twist Kristin around to face me, my thumbs at the ready to remove the tears falling onto her cheeks. Her strength inspires me when I notice her face is dry. I’m glad she held them back. I’ve seen enough tears fall from her daughters’ eyes the past four months to last me a lifetime.
I give her a few seconds to regain her composure before asking, “What do you know about the night Dane was shot?”
She stiffens a mere second before her mouth falls open.
Four
Alex
“Wow, look at you.”
Kristin wolf-whistles as she enters the bathroom I’ve spent the last hour hogging. The last month has been good for her. She’s gained some of the weight she lost the weeks following Dane’s death, and the bags her eyes carried the past five months have all but vanished.
She still has a long way to go in her grief, but our interaction on her couch four weeks ago was good for both of us. Since we’re jointly grieving the loss of a loved one, we naturally fell into being each other’s crutch. It was an okay solution for the short term, but unviable as a long-term fix.
My heartache took me the long route to work out what two plus two equals but after a lengthy internal deliberation, I finally realized I can support someone without being with them 24/7. My friendship with Kristin will be living proof of this.
I’ve often said I am an agent before I’m a man, so it’s time for me to get back to who I truly am. I’ll miss Isla and Addison like crazy, but I’m excited about the step I’m taking. By accepting the role offered to me last month, I can provide for them better than I have the past five months while also ensuring their dad’s legacy will forever live on.
I don’t want Dane to be remembered for the way he died. I want his legacy to reflect the man he was before the life he was destined to live was cruelly stripped away from him.
Remaining quiet, Kristin circles me like a shark as she takes in my recently purchased suit, freshly cut hair, and shaved chin. She startles when her eyes land on the last part of her assessment.
Expensive perfume smacks into me when she stops to stand in front of me. “I thought we agreed on a trim?” Her blonde brows sit high on her face.
I laugh, loving the possessiveness in her tone. She isn’t getting her panties in a twist over me; she’s claiming ownership of the Viking beard I once had. It’s gone. Done and dusted. As invisible as the heart I once owned.
My hand scrapes my baby bottom-smooth jawline. “I figured a new start deserved a new shaving routine. I like it. I don’t feel so. . .”
“Homeless?” Kristin fills in, unsure why I couldn’t finalize my sentence.
I nod, preferring her suggestion over the many running through my head.
“I get it. It’ll grow on me.”
She straightens my tie before raising her eyes to mine. The reason for the manly scent on her hands comes to light when she shoves a bottle of cologne into my chest. It’s the same brand of cologne she gifted me when I was the best man at her wedding.
“They say the scent makes the man.” A frisky wink seals her statement.
My smirk sags a little. I used that saying on Regan when she questioned why my expensive cologne didn’t match the economical price of my suit. I can picture the cute little crinkle her nose would get if she were watching the exchange between Kristin and me. She never hid her jealousy well. . .even while playing me for a fool.
Hoping to block horrid memories, I accept the cologne from Kristin before splashing some on my square jawline. “Gotta play the part, right?”
Nodding, Kristin removes the cologne from my hand before replacing it with a smaller package. It is the size and shape of a jewelry box, just flatter. Curious to discover what’s inside, I crack it open before my brain can object.
I’m stunned when I spot a pair of gold cufflinks inside. They look swanky, and if the brand name curled around the edge is anything to go by, I have no doubt they are. They’re stamped Bulgari.
“Kristin, I can’t accept these. They’re too expensive.”
