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An invisible fist sucker-punched him in the chest. “They are one and the same.”
“No, she’ashkiiyázhi.” A hand that had weathered nearly a century of triumphs and disappointments settled on his arm. “Businesses rise and crumble and disappear from the landscape as if they never existed. Family endures.” She wrapped both hands around her coffee cup and sipped. “But you must listen to its heartbeat as you would any living being, especially when it has sustained an injury, unintended or not.”
His throat grew thick. He was listening. He just couldn’t understand the words.
“Coordinating so many recovery missions must feel overwhelming, at times.”
Unlike his brothers, Zeke’s role in BARS required him to not only execute his part of their missions, but he also had to plan them, organize logistics, order supplies, meet with new and potential clients, write up proposals . . . His duties were endless and so fucking fatiguing.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he said.
Most days.
Other days, he felt the weight of a thousand sleepless nights pressing on his skull.
“A leader’s most valuable trait is respect,” Grams said. “Respect you earn and respect you give.”
“I thought vision was the most valuable.”
“A leader can lead a team to war, but he can’t win it without their respect.”
“Are you saying I’ve lost my brothers’ respect?” The possibility, one he’d considered a thousand times, made him sick to his stomach.
She shook her head. “But respect is a fragile thing. Easily shattered. Difficult to repair.”
He sent her a sidelong glance. “I sense a suggestion coming.”
The creases around her mouth deepened in humor. “One you’ve already worked out for yourself.”
“My brothers have a lot on their plates already. I depend on them to figure out how best to execute their part in each recovery.”
The double doors opened, and Cruz appeared, leading the pack of Blackwells.
Nosy bastards.
“Don't worry, Grams. Once Neuman is operational, I’ll get back some much-needed time.” He leaned over and kissed her wrinkled cheek. “I won’t let the team down.”
Her hand rose to cup his jaw and her dark eyes, cloudy around the edges, conveyed a message for him and him alone. But the sight of his brothers had pushed his barriers back up, blocking whatever wisdom she tried to convey.
“Come on.” Zeke rose and held out a hand to his grandmother. “Let’s get you to higher ground before these apes run you over.” Even though she was sharp as a whip and healthier than many fifty-year-olds, her body didn’t fire on all cylinders that low to the ground.
She gave him a knowing smile before accepting his assistance.
He escorted Grams down the aisle. “What are you all doing here? I told you we’d debrief at the Annex.”
Light fanned over the group when the chapel doors opened again, and another figure crowded in behind Phin.
The newcomer’s eyes met Zeke’s.
Ash.
