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The memory of how the three of them had lost Phoebe, all because of the mistake they’d made when it came to her brother and because of Jason’s unbending will, colored everything in Lucas’s life.
“Sweetheart, you can’t mean that,” Lucas said, feeling his heart rip apart. Phoebe was the love of his life. He couldn’t lose her. How would he survive?
“But I do mean it.” She stood in front of him, Mitchell, and Jason. Her arms were folded over her chest.
He could see she was shaking, which gave him a sliver of hope. “Talk to us, baby.”
“We can work this out,” Mitchell added. “Give us a chance.”
Jason didn’t say a word. After what had happened at the diner, what could he say?
The doors to the courtroom opened. Shane was led out in handcuffs.
Phoebe wept.
“It’s going to be okay, sis,” Shane said. “Trust me. I’ll be fine.”
After Shane and the officers went out the door, she turned to Lucas and his brothers. “We are done. This is over.”
The closeness Lucas had once felt with Mitchell and Jason was gone. He and Mitchell had been able to heal some of the hurt, havin
g played the smallest of parts in Shane’s undoing and the gulf that had been created in Phoebe’s heart, but the bond only held on by a thin thread. The wound between him and Jason was just as deep and fresh as it had been three years ago.
He could imagine leaving his brothers, his mom and dads, and even Destiny—something he never would’ve thought possible before.
Mitchell started talking to Kaylyn, which surprised Lucas even more. There was something in his brother’s manner that didn’t quite gel with his demeanor since the breakup. Mitchell seemed almost…happy.
* * * *
“Mitrofanov surely doesn’t have the five million in cash.” Jason looked at Dylan, who was wearing his signature outfit—sunglasses and dark suit and tie.
“Likely he’s exchanged it for something more portable, like diamonds or art, but it is certainly still transferable.” Dylan continued glancing at his and his brother’s lovely wife, Erica, who was standing by the stairs with Cam. She was dressed as Juliet and Cam was dressed as Romeo.
“Nice costumes your brother and wife have,” Jason stated, trying to goad Dylan a bit. Of course, he had no room to talk, wearing his sheriff’s uniform tonight. Special dispensation by the O’Learys, thank God.
Dylan didn’t take the bait. Jason liked the guy. Always had. They were similar in many ways, but Dylan could bend rules. Something he could never do.
“The agent replacing Black should be here any minute,” Dylan told him. “In my book, no one can take Black’s place, but I will work with him just as hard as I worked with Black. I don’t know the man, but his name is Brown. Former FBI.”
“Is that normal, going from FBI to CIA?”
Dylan shrugged. “Apparently quite the climber. Has connections all the way to the top of the Agency.”
Thinking about all the killings in Destiny of late made Jason’s jaw tighten. Black was only one of a very long list of victims.
Jason wasn’t sure if he would ever get over losing Shannon, but he vowed to bring down the man responsible for her death—whatever it took. He wished he had someone to talk to about all of it. But he didn’t. Not anymore. Not since Phoebe. Like it or not, he was an island now. Still, Destiny needed him more than ever. He couldn’t let his guard down with anyone, not even the unflappable Dylan Strange. He would work with him but also keep one eye on the man. Spies didn’t give much credence to the law, like Jason did.
“How are you, the Texans, and Jena going to deal with the new boss?” he asked.
“You’re going to have to deal with him, too, Sheriff. You agreed to be on the team.”
“More like the governor agreed for me, remember? That was Black’s doing.”
The hint of a smile appeared on the stoic man’s face. “Yes, it was, but you are on the team.”
“Dylan, we will make sure that Black’s killer pays.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page, Jason. I need you to bring that piece of shit down.”
