“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 glistening beauty of the rising moon illuminated Mouse’s bare chest and revealed a familiar tattoo with a music note, a cross, and a knife. But in this case, Chaos’ mark featured an addition. The knitting needles fit perfectly into the montage of brotherhood.Patterns.But this pattern had to come to an end.”

“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.”

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

“By 7:28, all the guests had arrived, and there were three empty seats: one for Eve, who had yet to show up, another for John, who would have a seat after he gave his daughter away, and a third that would remain empty, save for the ball of soft white yarn with two silver knitting needles in it.”

“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.”

“He smiled at Billy’s friends. “I got more where that came from. Never do that shit again.” He found Mouse’s eyes. “Jimmy, you hold your head high.”That moment changed Mouse.”