The first taste of bourbon after so many months without it is like food after months of fasting, only better. Food makes your body full. Satiated. But bourbon will make you a star.

Mac’s eyes shut, his stockinged feet propped on his desk in the HERO Force office, the rest of the team long since gone home. There was only him, his failure, and his drink.

Ellie didn’t want to be found, that much was clear. His wife had gone to great lengths to make sure he wouldn’t find her, and with each gatekeeper he passed, another door slammed in his face.

But this latest was too much. A dead end, a death row sentence that had him returning to start without so much as a single square gained.

He lifted his glass, the amber-colored liquid sliding down his throat in one long pull. He would have sworn his stomach lining was singing the “Hallelujah” chorus, his brain cells beginning four-part harmony.

This was all he had. All he was left with.

He poured himself another drink, the memory of his wife’s soft frame and lushly curved hips coming to mind, his junk clenching in his shorts as he thought of her. No one had ever turned him on like she did. He hadn’t even fucked anybody since she left him, his dick refusing to get hard the twice he’d bothered to try.

No, she was the only woman he wanted and the one woman he couldn’t have. Scratch that. He’d had her and he’d fucked it up so badly she’d left him to drink himself to death.

If it weren’t for Hawk, he’d still be there, and hell, maybe he’d be better off for it. He slammed his feet to the ground, sitting up in a rush and searching for flights from New York to Paris, the whole time knowing he wasn’t really going back there, because there was nothing to go back to.

He hung his nose over the liquor and inhaled the intoxicating scent. If Jax Andersson could see him now, Mac would lose his job. The owner of HERO Force lived in Atlanta, where the first office was, and thank God for it. The last thing Mac needed was anyone seeing him like this before he’d decided just what the fuck he was going to do.

“Mac.”

Goddamn it.

He looked up to find Luke in the doorway, Mac’s eyes fighting to adjust to the change in depth from staring into his highball glass. “Wiseman. What are you doing here?”

Luke sat in the chair across the desk. “You got a drink for me?”

Mac spun sideways, reaching into a low cabinet and pulling a glass from its depths. He’d stocked the cabinet weeks before, telling himself it was proof positive he didn’t need to drink. The bourbon was there for someone else. A celebration. A man-to-man chat.

Except now a man was here, looking to talk, and all Mac wanted was for him to go the fuck away. He belched, turning his head away to hide the smell of so many drinks before this one. He slammed a glass down too hard on the desk and poured, handing it to his friend.

The look in Luke’s eyes said everything he didn’t say, but he only lifted his glass. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

The men drank. “You find her?” asked Luke.

Mac shook his head. “No. Every lead’s a fucking dead end.”

“Did something happen?”

“You mean besides me getting drunk?”

“What got you drinking?”

“That would be me, myself, and I. I’m not blaming circumstance.”

Luke threw back the rest of his drink and refilled it. “Is that it? Are you done with HERO Force, then? You told us we had to be sober.”

“Shit, man. I don’t know.”

“Haven’t thought beyond that bottle, eh?”

“Not really.”

“Well, you ought to. You’ve got a lot of men here counting on you to keep your shit together.”

Mac glared at him. “Thanks for the PSA.”

“What happened?”

Mac swirled the liquid in his glass, again leaning back in his chair. “For the first time in years, I had leads. Good ones. I sat here just a couple of months ago and looked at a list, thinking it was just a matter of time before I found her, that one of the names was my wife and everything was going to be okay, and I was so damn happy. But it’s not. All I keep thinking is, I might die without ever seeing her again.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“So you never see her again. What does your life look like?”

“Fuck you.”

Luke leaned forward. “I’m serious. Play along with me. If you never saw Ellie again, what would your life look like?”

“I’d be living under a bridge.”

“You could do that. Or you could make a different choice. You’ve been running HERO Force for months. You can keep doing it.”

“Why bother?”

Luke’s brows went up. “Seriously? You’ve made a difference in these guys’ lives. Given them something productive to do. Given them their lives back.”

“Oh yeah? Is that what I’ve done for you, Wiseman? Did I give you your life back?” He forced his chair forward, his feet landing on the ground as he leaned closer to Luke. “Because it seems to me you’re just cruising through this shit, going through the motions because you don’t know how to forgive yourself for killing Buckeye and you sure as hell can’t let yourself be happy with his sister, no matter how much you love her.”

Mac narrowed his eyes, shaking his head, anger flowing through him like a current. “In fact, I’m willing to wager you broke that woman’s heart damn near as much as you broke your own. And for what? Because you’ve got your life back? Because I’ve made a goddamn difference in this world and saved you?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I didn’t save anybody.”

Mac stood and capped the bourbon, his haven now ruined. “Which is fine. I get it. We’re broken, every last one of us, and nobody’s going to get better. Not me, not you, not any of us.”

Wiseman was quiet, staring at the desk. He put his empty glass down. “I don’t deserve her.”

“Nope.”

“I can’t expect her to forgive me.”

“Do you think she would have slept with you if she hadn’t forgiven you? I’ll say it again. It’s you who can’t forgive yourself.”

Luke’s mouth turned down at the corners. “How can I?”

The question seemed to echo in the space.

How can he?

How can I?

How can any of us?