“Every night after that, Blake would show up and stand next to Beckett, head down, hands still.”

“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.”

“Blake and Beckett touched tattoos in greeting. Beckett turned his other arm over to show Blake his bandage. Blake lifted one eyebrow, and Beckett peeled the tape back to reveal his new Sorry tattoo, a perfect replica of his brother’s.“Cole got one too,” Beckett said.Blake looked off in the distance as his eyes filled with emotion.Beckett pulled Blake’s face back to look at him and held it in his hand. “Never alone, bro. You’re never alone as long as I live.”Blake nodded. “Thanks.”

“Sometime later, Cole entered the situation. Beckett wasn’t sure if Blake had confided in Cole or if Cole just stumbled upon the ritual, but one night he joined Blake and Beckett. And then there were three.”

“Why aren’t you fighting back?” Blake finally asked one night as Beckett lay on his bed.“I told you not to come the fuck out there, didn’t I?” Beckett hissed.“I like the woods,” Blake said. “I don’t like knowing what he does to you.”

“I’d smack you over the head with it so hard your bell would still be ringing for Church next Saturday night. ~ Jaz”