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Merrick continued, “I know you feel responsible for Gabriel’s death.”
“Even though it’s not your fault,” Braken cut in. “You couldn’t have stopped the inevitable.”
I shot daggers at Braken. “Really, dude? So it’s cool that I allowed my best friend to go meet the Grim Reaper and did nothing about it? Because that’s what I fucking did.”
“Gabriel made his decision. He knew he was playing with fire with how many double dealings he was in. You warned him,” Soren said.
Clearly, all my friends were on the same page… one I was not on.
“We should have had his back. If we had been there, he’d still be here,” I said. We’d had this conversation before, but these fuckers weren’t listening.
“We’d be dead,” Braken said. “Gabriel walked into an ambush.”
“One that he orchestrated,” Soren added. “Sorry, Locke. I know this is hard to hear, but Gabriel fucked up. He made poor choices all the time, and his last one just happened to be fatal.”
Braken reached for a bottle of bourbon and began pouring us all a glass. “Not your fault. Not anyone’s fault but his own.”
I glanced around the table, making eye contact with each of my friends. “Doesn’t it bother any of you that we don’t know who actually killed him?”
Braken shrugged. “Most likely it was the Godwin family.”
“And you don’t think we should do something about that?” I asked.
“Not unless you have your own death wish,” Soren said.
“He was our friend,” I said, feeling as if I had been punched multiple times by my partners’ words.
Braken poured me another glass of bourbon. “He was.”
“It kills me not knowing who killed him. And why exactly,” I confessed.
“Then find out,” Braken suggested. “Go to the source. You’ve always been close with Apollo. He’ll tell you if his family did it or not.”
“And what if they did? What if we know for sure?” I asked.
“Unless you want to end up like Gabriel, you do nothing,” Soren warned. “But maybe at least knowing the facts will help. I agree with Braken. The guilt is clearly eating you up, so maybe at least knowing will help you face that demon head on.”
Merrick nodded and said, “And Storee’s not your responsibility. She’s not a little girl who needs a father figure.” He raised his hands when I gave him a death glare. “Don’t get mewrong. I like the girl. I do. But she deserves to live her life as she sees fit. You’re suffocating her.”
I downed the bourbon in my glass in one gulp, the liquid burning a trail down my throat. “I’m not letting her do The Hunt tonight. That’s final.”
Braken shook his head. “Good luck trying to stop her.” He sipped his bourbon and added, “The way I see it is you can either let some dude hunt her like any other woman, or you hunt her again like you did last night.”
Soren’s and Merrick’s eyebrows both rose, eyes wide. They hadn’t been privy to the information that Braken just shared.
“You fucked Storee?” Soren asked with a chuckle. “Wow, didn’t see that coming.”
Merrick smirked. “I did. Just a matter of time.”
“You fuckers need to shut up,” I said between clenched teeth. I didn’t want to discuss Storee any longer. “Let’s move on. I’ll handle Storee. She’s my concern. Not any of yours.”
I glared at my partners in crime in warning to drop the subject.
They all had shit-eating grins on their faces. They meant well, but they were pissing me off. I slammed my fist on the table again before I stood and walked away.
This morning she’d told me she wasn’t going to do it again.
Or did she?
