The second I step into D-One Security, JoJo Rodriguez walks up to me with a painful look on his face.
“You’ve got a pretty pathetic face there for someone who was photographed on the arm of a supermodel last night. I thought, from the sound of it, that you went from body guard to bed warmer.”
“Oh, we had fun last night, DeLuca.” He wags his eyebrows at me. “I’m trying to get her to stay longer but she’s got another job lined up in New York. Anyway, where is that hot sister-in-law of yours? My stomach is feeling empty and in need of another one of her cupcakes. Maybe five. I could die a fat, happy man with her around.”
I laugh at JoJo and his pitiful look. All week, Suzie has been bringing food to the guys while simultaneously kicking their asses at both poker games this week.
When we opened our offices, a private security and investigation firm, a few years ago, it was a way for the four of us to stay together after our last mission. We even named it after our Delta One team in honor of the brothers we lost. Cam opted out, instead working at the pediatric ward of one of the hospitals, running a practice with another doctor, and starting the charities for the kids of Houston. While he remains a silent partner, he does a lot of free work for the firm when one of our guys needs the medical attention. But he mostly stays away.
The business and staff have grown so much over the last few years that last week we begged Suzie to come work for us, to be our manager, and to help us get more organized. Three former military men, yet we still suck at the day to day office work. Her job as a profiler for the police department was starting to get to her, mentally. She needed a break and we needed an office manager who knew the law.
“She’s out with her brother and Cam, remember? They begged me to go out but we’re three men down tonight and I needed to come in. I’ve got more than enough paperwork to fill out after the Delaney incident last week.”
“Lord, don’t even get me started on that one. It’s all yours, buddy.” JoJo claps me on my shoulder and walks off.
I head upstairs to the third floor of our building and into our offices. I shut my door and lose myself for the next two hours in the mound of paperwork that’s scattered around me.
I don’t look up until I hear a knock at my door and see that JoJo still has his sad face on.
“Fine, I’ll ask Suz to whip up a batch when she gets home. Just stop looking at me like that, please!” I laugh at JoJo and get back to my paperwork.
“Logan…” Something in his voice makes me whip my head up and that’s when I see his red-rimmed eyes.
“What is it?” I get up and walk to the door, but he won’t look me in the eye. I rub my stomach for the umpteenth time tonight and I can feel the nerves rising up inside my throat, settling there, heavy like lead.
“Jo. What’s wrong?” He still can’t meet my eyes.
“There was an attack at Purple Reign. I talked to Cameron a bit ago and they need us down there.” Right away, I’m on high alert.
“You called him Cameron. You never call Doc by his real name. What aren’t you telling me? Did something happen to Josh? Oh shit. Is it Brad or Suzie?” I nearly fall to my knees but grab hold of the door fame.
“Just get your fucking keys and meet me downstairs,” he bites back.
I scramble around finding my keys and badge before finding them in my pocket before rushing out and down the stairs.
I ignore the sick feeling in my stomach as JoJo drives like a bat out of hell to the club. The entire drive, I fight back tears, praying to anyone that would listen to me to keep my family safe. No one is answering their phones and it’s making my insides churn even more.
“Put your badge on, Logan.”
“Huh?” I look at JoJo, confused. Why would I need to put it on?
“We’re here. Put it on so we can get through. Doc’s already cleared us with HPD.”
I get out of the car, fumbling to put my badge on, and make my way to the yellow tape around the dented front door.
Before I step in, Cameron comes walking out, covered in blood and crying.
Wait.
Cameron doesn’t cry. Cameron is a tough as nails guy who has his moments but there’s never tears.
“Cam?” I can barely hear my voice as he stumbles past me, not even looking up. I whip my head around to face the inside and I feel it creeping up on me.
The PTSD.
The despair.
The complete sense of failure.
I muster up whatever ounce of energy I can and breathe through the tunnel vision trying to pull me in. It takes a moment but it passes and I walk inside.
The entire place reeks of death and destruction. There are tables and chairs strewn everywhere, bits of ceiling tiles and piping on the ground. It looks more like a tornado came through here than a mad man with an automatic gun.
I look around a little more and see at least ten body bags. I feel my stomach recoil but cover my mouth before anything dares to come out. When I turn to the door on the other side, I see the words written in bright red.
“Like Sodom and Gomorrah, I condemn you for your atrocious acts of homosexuality and promiscuity. In the name of Jesus, I am here to be your judge, jury, and executioner.”
I feel my breath hitch as I read the words the entire world is now familiar with. How one man can decide the fate of an entire group of people, I’ll never understand. The only thing I know is, when this man goes down, there won’t be a single person with a wet eye and not cheering at his demise.
“Logan?”
“Yeah?” I manage to croak out the word before JoJo takes my arm and walks me over to one of the far corners of the club. When I see where he’s taking me, I stop. Ten feet away I see them.
Suzie’s holding Brad’s pale head in her lap and Josh is lying next to them.
“No! No, no, no, fucking no!” I fall to my knees, screaming out to whoever and whatever will listen. I clutch my heart and I can feel it breaking, shattering into a million and one irreparable pieces. I try to gulp in air but my lungs refuse to breathe as I continue to scream out, embracing the burn of the harsh sounds.
I completely fall to the floor, slamming my fists on the ground, making my knuckles bleed as I take in the sight before me. The hot tears pour out onto the floor next to me, generously blinding me from seeing my husband’s body lying on the cold, hard floor.
I somehow manage to crawl the last few feet to a silent Suzie, who moves aside to let me hold him one last time. I pull his head into my lap and I start rocking us.
“Oh, baby. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t. God, come back to me.” I cry into his soft hair, kissing his cool temple over and over again. “Brad, baby, you can’t leave me here. Please try to come back to us. God, you have to try.”
I cradle my husband, begging and pleading God, to my brother, to anyone else up above, to bring him back to me until my voice goes hoarse. And even then, I don’t stop as my cries continue to spill from me.
“Logan? They need you to let go. They need to –”
“Shut the fuck up, Jo.” I tighten my grip on Brad when I see him kneel next to me. He’s been crying too. I put my head in the crook of Brad’s neck and hold on.
“Logan, they’ll let you see him after they clean him up. But please, let the medical examiner take him.”
“Logan, let them have my brother.” It’s only then I remember Suzie.
I look over to her, standing next to the guys who already have Josh on a gurney inside a black bag. She looks as dead as I feel inside. I shudder at the comparison, considering my surroundings, but it’s true.
I scoot back, gently laying Brad’s head on the floor. I take one of his hands in my own and place a small kiss on top. I lean down and place one on his white lips.
The last kiss I’ll ever give him.
A fresh wave of tears starts to fall as I cover my mouth at the thought of that being our final kiss.
I’ll never get to talk to him again.
I’ll never get to hold him.
I’ll never get to tell him about my day.
We’ll never get to make love in our bed again.
And, we’ll never get to start the family that, just hours before, we were looking forward to.
I barely manage to stand up, but as soon as I do, Suzie is in my arms.
We hold onto one another, mourning the loss of our Brad, crying into one another as we feebly attempt to comfort each other.
As my tears slowly start to subside, we stand there, watching the response team pick him up and gently place him in a black bag, when I hear a soft voice say my name. I look to my right and there stands Cameron.
“He needs you, Logan. He’s got no one coming to hold him like you and I have.” I give Suz one last squeeze and turn to face Cam.
The second we’re face to face, we’re hugging. I let him cry into my shoulder as we watch the men in our life being zipped into bags and rolled away.
I don’t know how we’re going to move on.
I don’t know how to live a life without my love.
But I have to do it. For him, for Josh, for Cam and Suzie, and for everyone who lived through the shooting.