“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.”

“Listen, Mouse wants us to find Blake,” Eve pleaded. “That’s why he’s pointing. That’s why he took out three assholes on his own like a gladiator. I want to sit and cry. I want to get him in the back of his own hearse and treat him like a goddamn king. But right now, we’re going to finish what he started.”Beckett stood and nodded. As wrong as it felt, he needed to leave his friend—no, my brother—lying dead here. At least for now.”

“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.”

“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.”

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

“I’m going to hell, Livia,” he said.“I’m going to hell for all three of us,” Beckett said defiantly. Only now did he pull his hand away.“I think you might be a better man than you give yourself credit for,” Livia said, trying to catch his eye again.”