“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.”

“I can’t leave him here. Not with them. Not in the fucking dirt.” Beckett grabbed his flashlight with every intention of handing it to Eve so he could carry his friend—no matter how fucking big he was—to someplace better, when the light landed on Mouse’s bare chest.“What the hell?” Beckett touched Mouse’s chest again, and Eve took the light and centered it on the tattoo in question.Beckett traced it for a moment, his finger lingering on the knitting needles that set it apart from his own, and bowed his head. “Now that’s too fucking much,” he said softly. “That hurts too fucking much. Eve, not Mouse. He can’t be gone.”

“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.”

“You think that’s what Mouse wants? You in jail? He’s not the pile of ashes we’re going to put in the ground. His soul is free in the woods.”

“And I know Blake had a bunch of fucking problems going on the night he was shot. But Mouse here made sure the hired guns were dead before they could hurt him. I don’t know if I get to call him a hero, if that’s allowed, because I’m a bad man, and he was my friend. But he was a hero to me.”

“Daring to approach the brothers’ tension-filled embrace, Livia touched one of Beckett’s coiled arms. “Beckett.” She waited until his furious face turned toward her mouth. “I still need you. Here. I can’t wait for him without you. You promised. I’m not man enough. Remember?”Livia held her breath.“You’ve got your sister,” he said quietly.“Let go of him, Cole. Please.” Livia nodded at the puzzle of arms, each with its own agenda.Cole looked reluctant as he stepped away, keeping his body between Beckett and Chris.“It has to be all of us. Don’t ask me how I know, but I do. We all have to sit here and hope for the best. Pray for the best. Even with that pile of shit right there.” Livia didn’t have to point; they could all feel pulsating of the evil that was lodged in Chris.“We have to think about Blake—getting fixed, getting healed, getting back to us. Adding murder to tonight is wrong. It’s all wrong. You have to make a different choice. I trust you, Beckett. You can do this.”Livia’s earnest words seemed to make Beckett want to curse. His face boiled red for a moment. Only Beckett could hear Livia’s gentle breath that pleaded, “Please.”Rather than leaping to action, he rubbed his forehead and took in great gasps of air. Finally, he grabbed her head in a giant hug. “For you, Whitebread. Only for fucking you.”

“She watched while the funeral director and his teenage son removed Mouse from his hearse. They were efficient and reverent. Eve put her wrist in her mouth. She had to get out of here. Seeing Mouse like this was grinding her down.Eve collapsed back into the hearse. The vehicle was so empty without him. His presence had gone with his body.”