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Wyatt brought the pan of steaks over to the table. “Get ’em while they’re hot, boys.”
It wasn’t long before we were chowing down on steak and potatoes. Ribald stories flew around the table, courtesy of Aiden and James, but I didn’t pay them any heed. My focus was on the box sitting dead center of the table. The one Evan sent before he killed himself.
“You’re staring,” Wyatt stated with a nod toward the box before taking another bite of steak.
“I want to get on with it. We’ve waited. I want to know why—just fucking open the damn thing already,” I snapped, my heart sore. My emotions were raw. I didn’t know how I could have missed it. Missed how close to the wire he was this whole time and never noticed. I’d been too caught up in my own life.
Conversation halted around the table. All heads turned in our direction.
Wyatt studied me, then the other three, Aiden, James, and Lucas. We were the last of our squad still serving. All the others either died or retired or had been reassigned and were scattered across the country.
Wyatt shook his head. “Still no patience.”
“Still controlling everything. Just open the fucker,” I demanded, ready to snatch the package off the table and rip into it with my bare hands.
With an agitated sigh, Wyatt moved his empty plate and put the box in front of him. Taking out his pocket knife, he opened the package. He withdrew a thick stack of letters in envelopes. On top was something he started to read.
“No. Do not read it quietly.” We were past that. If we were opening it here, we all needed to know what it said together.
Wyatt handed it over. “You read it out loud, then.”
I snatched it from his hands. Evan’s hasty scrawl made my throat clog. I always told him his handwriting resembled a serial killer’s. It choked me up, thinking about it, thinking about him and knowing his light was extinguished forever.
I cleared my throat and read.
Hey motherfuckers,
We’ve had quite a ride. And I wish I could stay, but after everything that happened, I just can’t. My story, my life, was always going to end in flames. I’ve seen too much. I’ve done too much. And I can’t stay.
I know it’s going to piss you fuckers off. But get over it. It’s my life and my death we’re talking about.
I can’t go on with the burden we carry. By the time you read this, I’ll be worm food. And I’m good with it. I’ve made my peace with it.
But I’m going to ask you all to do one final thing for me. It’s my last command. I’ve included five letters. The names and addresses are on the envelopes. Hand deliver them for me and make sure they each read them.
I don’t know that they will be happy to see you. Most likely, they won’t want to take the letter or read it. But make them. For me. I need them to know my failures were never about them and make amends from beyond the grave.
As for you fuckers, take care of each other. I consider you all my family. I know this is gonna piss you off and hurt you. And for that, I’m sorry. But we each have to go on our own way.
Serving with you was the best thing I ever did. Know that I will be waiting on the other side to greet you.
See you in hell, boys.
Your friend always,
Evan Ryder
Hooyah, bitches!
I glanced at the group. Tears shimmered in their eyes. “Let’s look at where he wanted us to go. Anyone who doesn’t want to go—”
“Like we’re backing out of this mission. We’ve all got the leave time. Just tell us where we’re fucking going,” Lucas stated, earning a round of agreement from James and Aiden.
Wyatt handed over the envelopes. I flipped through them.
Moira Kelly.
Rory Ryder.
