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Ash pulled him back enough to look into his eyes. “What?”
Somehow Dex found the strength to meet Ash’s gaze, stunned by the guy’s tearstained cheeks. Dex’s voice was hoarse when he spoke, his throat feeling raw. “It should have been me.” He was supposed to have gone out to the truck. It should have been him caught in the blast.
“No,” Ash said through his teeth. “That bomb was in my truck. It was meant for me.”
Dex stilled. Ash was right. Most of the mangled and crushed steel were the remains of Ash’s truck. The pain in Ash’s expression matched the one in Dex’s chest. “Ash….”
Ash pulled him close against his chest and buried his face in Dex’s hair, his words barely audible. “I know. I’m sorry, Dex. I’m so sorry.”
Dex shook his head, but no words came out. All he could do was hold onto Ash as he watched the world burning and crumbling around him. He could hear the EMTs calling out to them, feel their hands on him as they tried to help. Right now all Dex wanted was to close his eyes and hide from everything and everyone. Beck Hogan had made a liar out of him. Violence was never the answer, but violence was the only thing that asshole seemed to understand. Dex opened his eyes and felt the darkness rising inside him. He told himself not to go there. He remembered the last time he’d felt this. He’d been five years old, and his parents had been taken from him. His anger, hatred, and confusion threatened to take hold of him, but Tony had taken his hand and pulled him back.
Well Tony wasn’t here right now, and Dex was no longer that frightened little kid. He was a trained Defense Agent for the THIRDS. For Hogan’s sake, Sloane better live through this.
Either way, Beck Hogan was going to pay.
