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“Dalton’s dead, Wade. This bitch killed him.” I look at the woman who bought me into the world with pure hatred in my eyes.
Wade takes in what I just told him, sliding his hand through his hair and pacing the road, and I’m sure he’s asking himself all the questions I’ve asked myself.
“No, she wouldn’t have done that.” He looks down at her. “Dalton? You killed Dalton?” he screams.
“Why? Why would you do that?” He makes her jump when he slams his fist into the panel beside her head.
“That’s why I want her taken to the line camp, she ain’t getting away with this by getting handed into the police. I want answers.” I stare at her coldly. “And you guys.” I turn my head to the River Boys. “You call this in, say you found the car abandoned with the baby inside and that you called me. It’ll match up to the story I tell the hospital.” I put my arm around my wife's shoulders and lead her back toward the truck. Kissing the top of her head, I stroke my little girl’s back while I wonder what the hell I’m gonna do to make the woman who gave birth to me pay for this.
Ilisten to Savannah sob as she follows me into the bunkhouse. I’m carrying Dalton and then see the look of shock on everyone’s face when they see him lying limp in my arms.
“Clear the fucking table,” I yell at them all, watching them all scatter so they can move all the empty beer bottles and crap so I can lay him down. I place him down carefully and feel the pain all over again when I step back and look at him.
“Get out,” I yell at them all as they continue to stare. “I said, get out” I roar again when no one budges. Taking his hand in mine, I drop to my knees and sob into his chest.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I repeat the words over and over again. Because this is all my fuckin’ fault, if I wasn’t sulking at the line camp tonight over Savannah, I would have been the one watching the house. It would have been me in that car with our crazy assed mother. Not him, the happy-go-lucky kid who had his whole life ahead of him.
“It’s not your fault.” Savannah rests her hand on my shoulder to try and comfort me and I tear it away.
“Get out,” I tell her the same thing that I told the others.
“Cole, you shouldn’t…”
“Just leave.” I turn around and let her see the aggression on my face. I don’t care if I sound cruel or hurt her feelings, rightnow she needs to get the fuck away from me. I’m angry beyond fuckin’ reason and I don’t know what I’m capable of right now.
I hear the front door slam shut, signaling that she’s left, and I keep staring at my brother. The police will be here soon, they’re gonna wanna take him away, and that ain’t right. He belongs right here alongside us. We still had so much to teach him. I think back to how I’ve acted since we found out he was our brother and wonder if I showed him enough that he was part of our family.
“Dalton.” The door swings open again and when I see Mitch's startled face, I have no idea what to say to him. I stand back on my feet and shake my head, watching the old man fall apart right in front of me.
“I’m sorry.” I swallow the lump in my throat as he loses control, swiping his arm over the kitchen counter and knocking everything on it to the floor. He punches the wall and kicks the units, then moves over to the lockers, sending ‘em crashing as he drags them to the floor. He hammers his fist into one of the big wooden pillars that hold up the roof over and over again until his knuckles tear apart and blood streams down the splintered wood.
“Mitch, stop.” I head over to grab him and when he turns around and swings for me, I manage to dodge his fist and force him back against it. “It ain’t gonna bring him back.”
“He was your fuckin’ brother, Cole. You should have protected him. Same way you would have Garrett or Wade.” He points his finger in my face and his words set me on fire. I grab the man I’ve looked up to since I was a boy by his throat and pin him to the good damn pillar.
“I would’ve. If I had seen this coming, I would have protected him with my fuckin’ life. Ain’t that what this means?” I rip open his shirt and remind him of the brand we share. Mitch’s scar mayhave faded over the years he’s had it, but he knows better than any of us of its value.
“He was drivin’ Breanna and Mom to the hospital, the kid was sick. Someone must have ambushed ‘em on the way. Whoever they are took him out and now they got Breanna and Mom,” I explain, going through all the people in my head who might have done this. I can’t think about my baby niece or the fact she could be dead too.
“Jesus, you don’t know, do you?” Mitch shakes his head, his anger suddenly turning into pity.
“Know what?”
“Cole, the car wasn’t ambushed. Your mom did this,” he tells me.
“What?” I drop my grip on the old man and shake my head as I step back.
“Your mom was tryin’ to take Breanna, and Dalton tried to stop her, that’s the reason he’s fuckin dead,” Mitch yells at me.
“No, she wouldn’t do that.”
“I just got off the phone with Noah, Wade’s on his way back here with her now. It was her, Cole, she had a plan. Wade found a trunk full of shit for her and the baby and documents for some offshore account your dad set up fuckin’ years ago. She did this. We’ve been so preoccupied with all this Harvey and political crap that we didn’t notice the biggest threat right under our fuckin’ noses.” He uses the back of his bloody hand to wipe under his nose, and he doesn’t look mad at me anymore. He looks mad with himself.
“Noah said he’s speakin’ to Sheriff Nelson, you shouldn’t have taken him away from the scene of the crime.” He slowly walks over to his nephew and closes his eyes when it hurts him to look.
“I had to I—”
“I said you shouldn’t have, I didn’t say I wasn’t grateful that you did.” Mitch opens his eyes and I see the tears brimming in ‘em. He sees the damage that’s been done to him, and he forces himself to keep looking despite how much it hurts him.
