A grunt. As if the realization had hurt the other man. “She found out who your father is.”
It hadn’t been a question, not that it surprised Brett. “They all do in time, Cannon. You can’t run from your past forever. Not when it’s in your blood.”
“Colt…Brett?—”
“Don’t. I know the score. What my old man did—I hate the bastard, would love nothing more than to cap his ass, and I’m his son. His damn blood. I’m just tired of never being good enough. Of never getting out from under his shadow. It’s like my damn DNA is stained. And it taints whatever I touch. Ruins it.”
“You know that’s not true. Anyone who truly cared about you wouldn’t put what he did back on you.”
Brett snorted. “Then, I guess she never really cared.”
“That’s not what I meant. Shit.” Cannon took a step, stopped and turned. “Is there anything I can do? We could track her down. Get answers.”
Brett raised his beer. “Got all the answers I need, right here.”
Another grunt. Cannon looked as if he was going to argue but merely nodded. “I’ll be waiting up to make sure you get back. Don’t make me wait all night. And Colt?”
“Yeah, man?”
“Not every woman is like her. I promise. There’s someone out there for you.”
“Or maybe, that’s just not how my life’s gonna play out.”
He waved off Cannon’s reply. The pep talk the other man was no doubt going to give Colt, despite the fact Cannon didn’t seem to need a relationship. Hell, in all the years Brett had known him, he couldn’t remember the guy getting serious over anyone. Ever.
Maybe Cannon had it right? Maybe that’s how guys like him, like Brett, survived? Made a life in the Teams without endless regrets. They gave up on the hope of ever finding someone that meant more to them than their brothers. Their honor.
He glanced at Cannon. “It’s fine. I’m fine, I just need a night.”
“You sure that’s the best course of action? We all have a tendency to bury the bad shit.”
“So?”
“Makes it hard to feel the good.”
Brett paused. There had been a tone in Cannon’s voice. Sadness. Regret, maybe. Hard to tell for sure, but the guy was definitely referring to more than just Brett’s troubled love life.
Not that it mattered. Colt had seen the light. Found his version of Jesus. “The only good is making it through a mission alive. Seeing my brothers do, too. That’s all I’ve got, right now. All I need to focus on from here on out. I’ll be back by midnight.”
Cannon sighed then walked off. Brett watched the man fade into the crowd of bodies, signaling the bartender he needed another beer. Cannon was right. Brett had spent too many years pushing the bad shit down until nothing remained. Until he was numb. Maybe that’s why he always ended up alone.
Or maybe, he was just cursed. Destined to always be on the outside looking in. Lots of the guys made it work. Found a way to be soldiers and lovers. Husbands and fathers. Why Brett couldn’t figure it out was a mystery.
Or just a by-product of a crappy roll of the dice. Being related to a man the world regarded as a monster. Having to constantly rise above it—atone for sins that weren’t Brett’s.
Despite what Cannon had said, Brett doubted anyone could ever look beyond it. See him as anything other than a serial murderer’s son. As if it was lying dormant beneath his skin, just waiting to lash out—turn him into a younger version of his father.
Not going to happen, but that wasn’t something he could prove. Guarantee. And once the truth was out—there wasn’t any way to step back behind the curtain. Hide it away.
The military had eventually overlooked it, after an exhausting security check and letters of reference from thedetectives that had arrested his father. The federal agents involved. They’d gone to bat for Brett. He’d always wondered if the service had secretly hoped a bit of his old man was actually inside him—the part that made him an excellent hunter. Killer. And he’d fought against those notions when it seemed his peers had bought into it, too. Until he’d made Delta Force and been assigned to Cannon’s squad. After that, everything had changed. He’d become Colt—brother and valued member. The other guys hadn’t done more than nod when he’d given them the obligatory speech then dropped it. Permanently. As if it didn’t matter to them. Wasn’t something they processed or thought about when they looked at him.
And he’d had a glimmer of hope. One shining moment of clarity. Of thinking he might be beyond his past. That, maybe, other people—the woman he’d eventually fall in love with—Ellis—would see beyond it, too.
Except that hadn’t been the case. Not even close.
The bartender dropped off his beer, thanked him for the tip, then left. Brett stared at the water condensing on the bottle—watching the drops slowly slide down the side. He should have told her. He knew that. He’d had endless opportunities to just spit it out. Had actually tried on several occasions but…
He hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. Not after the way it had imploded previous relationships. Made him feel like a freak. A failure. Less of a man. And with everything going so well this time around… He’d known from the start that Ellis was different. She’d made him consider options he hadn’t before—picture a life outside his unit. Outside the Teams. With more than just his brothers to keep him company.
