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He clenched his jaw, glancing at IKE. “It didn’t go as well. I lost contact with him after four hours. When he didn’t check in after twelve, I sent a team in. He was already dead.”
I took a few seconds to allow the force of his words hit me. I knew he was dead all along, but with so many failed attempts, what would it take to convince everyone now? “What was the job?” I forced out.
“Does it fucking matter? I blew it. Is that what you want to hear? He’s fucking gone.”
I stared at him, waiting for any sign that he was lying to me. There wasn’t a twitch of his lips or a vein throbbing in his neck. He didn’t glance away from me or even tap his fingers. Nothing. No sign that he was deceiving me. Either he’d gotten better at lying or FNG really was dead. And I had a bad feeling it was the latter.
“So…that’s that.”
He nodded. “Didn’t turn out too well for me either.”
In a flash, I had him pressed up against the wall and a gun to his head. He didn’t even look scared. He knew I couldn’t pull the trigger. I wasn’t as ruthless as he was, not when it came to family. “It didn’t turn out too well for you either? Is that what you just fucking said to me?”
“He knew the job.”
“Is that going to be your excuse every time someone dies? What about Asher? Do you care at all that you ruined his life?”
He shoved me back, sure I wasn’t going to fire the gun. But IKE was on alert, his gun firmly trained on Rafe. All it would take was one word from me and he’d end his life. And right now, I wanted to tell him to do it. I wanted to end the chaos around us and just live my life in peace. But I knew as soon as his body dropped to the ground, the regret would tear me apart.
I stepped back, needing space from him.
“I didn’t tell Asher to take the job. You were in the fucking room with me. You heard me tell him it was dangerous.”
“I told him that, asshole.”
“I told him he would be alone.”
“Again, that was me,” I shot back. “How many more people have to die to fulfill your crusade?”
“Until The Syndicate is taken down!” Rafe shouted.
“Why are you so obsessed with this?”
“You’re okay knowing these assholes are out there?” Rafe asked. “Look at what they did to you. They fucking tortured you because they thought you were me.”
“Yeah, because you put yourself in the line of fire. You dragged me to that job, knowing they were after you. You should have warned me.”
“I couldn’t possibly know—”
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Rafe. This is me you’re talking to. I’m not Jason, Johnny, or Jack. I don’t buy into your line of crap about saving the world. This is a personal vendetta for you. I don’t know why or who it’s against, but this is one hundred percent about you. All that bullshit of it being about the job doesn’t fly with me. I’ve known you my whole goddamn life. I know the selfish prick you are.”
“If you really know me, you’d dig deeper for answers.”
I paused, staring at him in a different light. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Exactly how it sounds. If you don’t believe my intentions, dig deeper.”
“Where?”
He stalked toward me, his eyes dark and hard, but underneath was something different. It was almost like he was scared, but Rafe didn’t get scared. “You always were the saint. The sniper that our parents could be proud of. They still have that fucking award hanging on the wall for you. It’s their pride and joy.” He stared at me for a moment. “The fucking Congressional Medal of Honor for their favorite son.”
“Rafe—”
“Why’d you give it to them?”
“What?”
“The medal. They have it hanging on their fucking wall. Was it so they would always think of you?”
