“Beckett now got half the beating he used to get. Rick didn’t know that with every punch he was pounding his own coffin closed, but Beckett knew.”

“Rick, you sick, ass-sucking fuck, I want you to know I’m not here because you beat me. I’m not even here just because you beat children. There are lots of ways I could get you for that. But you’re going to die like the gasping pussy you are because…” Beckett advanced until he was nose to nose with Rick.“You.” Beckett pushed on Rick’s shoulder until he kneeled.“Touched.” Beckett leveled the pistol between Rick’s eyes.“My.” Beckett cocked the hammer with a quiet click.“Brothers.” Beckett smiled as he pulled the trigger.”

“The next evening, Beckett had waited for Rick in his usual spot, head down and hands clasped in front like a condemned army cadet. As Rick approached, the sound of a solid punch suddenly snapped Beckett to attention. Blake stood in front Beckett with his arm in obvious recoil from the blow he’d landed on Rick.But instead of starting a brawl, Blake had assumed Beckett’s position, hands holding one another in submission. “I’d like to take Beckett’s beatings for tonight, if that would be acceptable,” he said.”

“Then Beckett knew. He knew deep inside that his friend was dead. No. Fucking no.”

“He knew now that he was going to die. But he had one last mission from Beckett. I have to finish this.The man leaned in close, and Mouse jabbed his arm out and up, thrilled to see the speed his hand provided for his final act as Beckett’s bodyguard.All three were dead. I did it, Beckett. I saved your brother.”

“Beckett wanted only to get his brother on the motorcycle and out of Dodge. He’d refused to discuss his own options, and Eve didn’t see a whole lot of opportunity for Beckett to get out alive—no matter how well she picked off the enemy. Beckett was ready to martyr himself for brotherhood and past mistakes.”