He had to find Master A…Alex McKay. He had to find the man he’d tried to kill.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck. He’d killed Kris and he hadn’t had to. He’d fucked up again and he wasn’t even sure why.
There was a loud bang as the door to his loft burst open.
Shit. They’d come back to finish the job. God, he couldn’t breathe. The vest was too tight. He could feel something wet against his skin. Damn it. The round had been too close. Despite the Kevlar, he’d been hit. How far had the bullet gone in? How much time did he have left?
He’d wanted to do good. He let his head slip back down to the floor, the cool wood making him shiver. He’d just wanted to make his dad proud.
He’d tried by joining up. After Pawpaw died and the ranch had gone under, he’d just wanted to be able to hold his head up.
He thought about that gold star that sat on the mantle. His pawpaw had placed it there after his dad died.
That’s what your daddy was. He was a star. Now people will tell you that stars are actors and singers, but they’re wrong. Real stars are the people who set aside their own lives to do good. Like your daddy.
Twenty-seven years and he was still chasing his father’s legacy. Still falling short.
Did his father know? God, he hoped there was some form of heaven and his father knew he’d never betrayed his country. He’d been stalwart. It was why they’d targeted him. He hadn’t broken. He’d never given them anything past his name and rank and serial number, even when they’d shoved a hot poker into his chest. Even when he thought they would cut his cock off.
But they’d still found a way to break him. They’d taken his name. God, they had taken his name and his honor.
But no one got his soul.
“There’s the little fucker. Shit.”
He didn’t have to look for McKay. McKay had found him.
“Is he dead?”
He could pretend. He could lie here and no one would know. And that would be cowardly. And he wasn’t a fucking coward. He forced his head up. “He took her.”
A shout exploded from his chest as he was turned over. McKay stared down at him and he would almost swear there were flames shooting out of his eyes. “Who? You tell me who the fuck you’ve been working for.”
He forced the words out of his throat. God, he needed out of the vest. “Feds.”
“Be more specific.”
“SAC Petty. He contacted me a few months back and offered me an undercover job.” At the time, Jesse had been fucking high on the offer. It was a way to get back in, back into the good guy’s camp. He’d jumped at it. He’d been a fucking idiot.
“The feds don’t go outside the house for undercover,” a new voice said.
McKay hadn’t come alone. Jesse forced himself to look around. There were two men with McKay. Sean Reilly, though who knew what his real name was, and a dark-haired man with a fierce frown.
“He’s lying,” Sean said. “Why would he lie about that?”
“Because he knows damn well I’ll kill him when he tells me the truth,” McKay pronounced.
Death. It was where he was heading anyway. He thought about it. He thought about it a lot. In his worst moments, he’d thought about eating his gun and calling it a day. He’d never really done anything worthwhile. He’d been such a burden his mom had left. She’d loved his dad, but she couldn’t bring herself to love him, too. His pawpaw had to work to feed him when all he’d wanted to do was fish, but he couldn’t afford to raise a kid on social security.
His dad hadn’t even known him.
“Go ahead. Do it.” In the end, he couldn’t pull the trigger. But McKay could.
Alex McKay stopped, his brow furrowing. Funny word, furrowing. He laughed a little. Nothing left to do except laugh at how spectacularly meaningless his existence had been.
“Did you try to kill me?” McKay asked.
A simple answer. “Oh, yes.”
“Why did you take my wife?”
Not so simple. “Couldn’t hurt her. She was innocent. Wanted to save her from you. She told me off, though. Not as weak as I thought. It was a mistake. Everything’s a mistake. Didn’t mean to kill Kris. Just you.”
McKay growled and let him drop, his head hitting the floor. God, everything ached. When would it stop?
“What reason did Petty give for killing me?” McKay asked, staring down at him like he was a bug who might still get stepped on.
There was no reason to hide anything now. He’d been played. He had no idea if McKay was a good guy or a bad guy. It simply no longer mattered. “He didn’t have to give me a reason. He was in charge.”
The chef got to one knee, blue eyes looking through Jesse. “What was your mission, soldier?”
“He’s not…” McKay began.