“Silence.Then the night echoed with Beckett’s anguished wail. “NOT MY BROTHERS!”

“The addition of knitting needles and twirling yarn made Beckett’s forearm ink the exact replica of the tattoo on Mouse’s chest.“He was my friend and my brother.”

“The men skipped their traditional greeting. They’d dropped the ritual. This was their unspoken acknowledgment of Beckett’s absence.”

“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.”

“Cole leaned in for a back-pounding and murmured in Beckett’s ear. “Blake and I need you alive too. Don’t forget that.”

“Beckett’s gruff voice moved her veil as he spoke, “Happy wedding, Whitebread. But please, don’t worry about this.”

“Ah, son of a bitch. Mouse, you fucking deserved more than this. More than dying in the goddamn dirt. You’re more than this to me. You’re my friend.” Beckett’s emotions got him again, and he sobbed deeply into the dark.”