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“Stand down, Wes!” he snarled.
Wes growled at him, and Cooper bared his teeth at him before returning the growl. “Stand down, I said.”
“Let him go, Coop. He thinks he can take me, then let him -”
“Shut the fuck up, Boone!” Cooper snapped without taking his gaze off of Wes. When Boone stayed quiet, Cooper said, “Wes, I know you’re worried about your mate, but I promise that -”
“It’s about more than just Eleanor,” Wes said. “I can’t risk - I won’t risk - your life or anyone else’s in this room. I can’t be responsible for your deaths. Don’t you get that? I’ve already killed one fucking friend. I won’t do it again. I fucking won’t!”
He tried to push away from Cooper, but Coop shoved him back against the wall. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Don’t play stupid,” Wes growled.
Cooper fisted his hands in Wes’s shirt. “Answer the fucking question, Wes.”
He wanted to punch Cooper in the face. He was supposed to be Wes’s friend. Why was he making him say it?
“I killed Derek!” he shouted as his throat burned and tears slid down his cheeks. “It’s my fucking fault he’s dead, and I’m not about to let history repeat itself. So, the four of you are staying right the fuck here!”
He slumped against the wall, all the fight sliding right out of him at the look of shock on Cooper’s face and the realization that he’d finally admitted out loud that Derek was dead because of him.
His lion had retreated so far inward that Wes could barely feel him, and he didn’t respond at all when Cooper’s lion trilled softly to him.
“Chase, can you give us a minute?” Cooper said.
Chase nodded and left the boardroom. Grayson and Boone joined them, and Wes hated the looks of pity on their faces.
“Don’t,” he rasped, swiping at the tears on his face. “Don’t fucking pity me. I don’t want that. Hate me instead, just don’t… don’t feel fucking sorry for me.”
“Wes,” Cooper said, “it wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was,” Wes said dully. “I went left instead of right. If I’d gone right… if I’d gone the correct way, Derek would still be alive. It’s my fault he’s dead.”
“Christ,” Boone said. “You really believe that.”
“Because it’s true,” Wes said.
“We weren’t supposed to be on patrol that day,” Cooper said. “I volunteered our unit to do patrol, and it ended with Derek dying. So, I guess it’s my fucking fault Derek is dead.”
“You were doing your job,” Wes said. “You didn’t lose focus, didn’t ignore your gut about -”
“I was supposed to be sitting in the front seat.” Grayson stepped closer and put his hand on Wes’s shoulder. “I asked Derek to switch with me because I had a headache, and I didn’t want the sun in my eyes the whole damn time. That makes it my fault Derek is dead.”
“Stop it,” Wes said, his anger growing again. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work. Neither of you was driving. It wasn’t either of you who turned us in the direct path of that fucking sniper by going left instead of right. If I’d gone right instead of -”
His breath escaped his lungs in a harsh whoosh when Boone shoved him up against the wall again. His face a mask of pain and sorrow, Boone said, “Derek told you to go left. Derek! You said you thought it was right, and Derek argued and told you it was left. Said he could read a fucking map, remember?”
Boone’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “We all fucking knew he couldn’t read a map worth shit. All of us! But we didn’t argue with him. We let Derek convince you to turn left, and then he fucking died!”
He shook Wes so hard, Wes’s teeth snapped together with a hard click. “Derek’s death is not your fucking fault. It’s not Coop’s fault for putting us on that patrol, it’s not Grayson’s fault for switching seats, and it’s not your fault for turning left down that fucking street. I won’t let you go another goddamn minute believing it was your fault. Do you hear me? You fucking asshole!”
Boone shook him again, the sorrow on his face replaced with anger. “We all miss him, and we all feel responsible for his death. You can fucking play martyr all you want, but the truth is Derek died because of an asshole sniper. That’s it! That’s the fucking reason, Wes. He died because he was shot when we were out in the middle of the fucking desert!”
He threw his arms around Wes and hugged him hard. Wes could feel Boone’s hot tears soaking into his shirt. He returned Boone’s hug, trying not to cry and failing. Boone’s tiger trilled to Wes’s lion, and to Wes’s surprise, his lion crept forward and returned the call of comfort. After a few minutes, Boone released him and swiped at his face with the heel of his hand.
Grayson pushed tissues into Wes and Boone’s hands, and Wes wiped his face as Boone did the same.
“I miss him,” Wes said, his voice hoarse. “I miss him so fucking much.”
