Heaven and Hell (Heaven and Hell, #1)

I blinked then whispered, “Who?”


“Ben’s girl. The one I told you about whose friends puked in my car. Only girl he had. They hooked up when he was fifteen, she was fourteen. Got tight fast, stayed tight. She gave herself to him when she was fifteen. He asked her to marry him when she was eighteen. He was focused on his career, his education, givin’ her the life she didn’t have, the life he didn’t have. Thought he had forever to do it. He didn’t. He died before he could do it. And it was me who had to tell her he was gone. Three days after we put him in the ground, she overdosed.”

My hand flew out and I backed up until I caught a chair, steadied myself and stopped.

Sam watched me move but he didn’t. He just kept talking.

“Found her almost too late. Ma did. Her folks were whack jobs, her entire fuckin’ family, dicks and bitches. The lot of them. All she had was us. Ma was worried about her so she went to check on her. Thank Christ she did. Ma called the ambulance and then she called me. Shit was in her system. They nearly didn’t get her to the hospital in time. Then it was touch and go if she did damage to her body, her brain. She survived. She came out unscathed. She’s married now, has a kid, another one on the way. But every time I see her, every time I speak to her, the last thing she says to me is, ‘You know, he’s not Ben.’ She lives that. Her husband lives it. He’s second best to a dead man and he knows it. He tries. He loves her so he tries. Still, I do not see good things.”

“I can imagine,” I said gently.

Sam kept going like I didn’t speak.

“I thought I could take up his work where he left off. I thought, I did what he intended to do, he’d live on. But that shit keeps going. There’s always a fuckin’ enemy. There’s always a fuckin’ assignment. Idiots in suits, most of ‘em who don’t even care enough to expend the energy to walk down the hall, sit in their leather chairs and speak for their people, tellin’ men and women where to go, taking them from their families, putting them in danger, getting their legs blown off, making them bleed. That work will never be done. I gave up what I loved doin’ to take up Ben’s fight and I fuckin’ failed.”

“You didn’t fail,” I assured him softly.

“Yeah? We at war?”

I pressed my lips together.

“We’re always at war, Kia, even when we’re not. I’m trained to kill and I’ve done it, hand to hand. The light goin’ outta Gordo’s eyes was not the only light I’ve seen go out. I’ve made that light go out, with intent, and in the end I don’t fuckin’ know why.”

“To make people safe, honey,” I told him.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I held onto that. I held onto the fact that the men at my side, taking my back, were men the caliber you cannot conceive. Honor wears a uniform.”

“Yes,” I whispered back.

“You have that, you get out, you get lost.”

My heart skipped again.

“Lost?” I prompted when he didn’t go on.

“Lost. I loved playin’ ball but I never missed the pads and jersey. I fuckin’ missed the uniform.”

My fingers clenched the chair. “Then why’d you get out, baby?”

“Because I didn’t understand what I was doin’ anymore, I only knew I respected who I was doin’ it with.”

That was a good answer.

I was silent.

Sam wasn’t.

“They found Gordo first. A unit. Private firm. Buddies of ours. Men we knew. Men we respected. Ex-Rangers, Night Stalkers, SEALs, Green Berets. Gordo recruited me. Pay was huge. Assignments dangerous but worthwhile and infrequent. We were doin’ a K and R extraction when he bought it.”

“K and R?”

“Kidnap and Ransom. Kid was seventeen. They had him for three weeks. We went in, small team, elite, four of us. But intel was faulty. We didn’t know that and that was unusual. They had six times our number and they were heavily armed, serious shit, shit no one has but terrorists, drug cartels and militaries. It was a far bigger operation than we thought. By the time we made it to where they were keepin’ the kid, we couldn’t abort. We got him. He was weak, I was carrying him out, Gordo had my back, he always fuckin’ had my back. He was providing cover fire. Then he stopped and I knew why. I got the kid to the chopper and went back for Gordo.”

Oh God.

I didn’t want to hear this but more, I didn’t want Sam to relive it. I had enough; he didn’t need to give me more. Suddenly, I didn’t need everything.

“Sam –”

He kept talking, intent on giving it all.

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