Perfect Rage (Unyielding 3)

I’d been fighting for five days with what I should do. I’d left the bar convinced it was over, but I hadn’t left. I lied to myself because I damn well knew I’d never leave her. But Deck was true to his word. I’d never get near her.

Everything changed while driving here, picturing her bleeding out on the floor, eyes dead and lifeless.

Nothing else mattered except her. I’d do anything to keep her. Anything. As long as she didn’t die.

Losing her wasn’t a possibility. I couldn’t go through that again. The fear escalated when I tuned onto her street and saw the flashing lights and cop car. I had some relief that there was no ambulance, but then it occurred to me it could’ve already come and taken her away.

I didn’t think twice about storming into the house. Didn’t think about the cops, Ernie, Vic, Tyler, or Deck. No one was keeping me from her.

And then I saw her sitting on the stairs and the relief was so overwhelming that I wanted to drop to my knees and cry.

Deck moved past me saying, “Let’s take this outside.”

I had the urge to punch him again and tell him to go fuck himself because I was still reeling at what he’d done. Not to me, but to Alina. She’d been trembling. They hadn’t told her what they were doing and scared her. That shit was not cool.

I followed him out onto the porch.

As soon as the screen door shut, he got right to it. No bullshit Deck. “I didn’t like doing that to Alina. But that’s on you.”

I crossed my arms to keep from punching him again and leaned against the railing. The anger throbbed, but it was more the fear for Alina. It didn’t matter that I’d held her moments ago and I knew she was fine. I still pictured her dead on the floor.

Deck continued, “Vic says your girl hasn’t slept in five days. Matt sent her home early from the bar the other night despite her insistence to work. She’s been through hell, too, and doesn’t deserve this.”

“Jesus, don’t you think I know that? She deserves someone who has their shit together, not a raging lunatic.”

Deck huffed. “You’re not a raging lunatic. Raging, yes. Lunatic, not yet. And I said she doesn’t deserve this. She deserves you because you’re a good guy. You’ve just forgotten that part.”

“Do you know what I’ve done? Do you have any fuckin’ idea?”

“Yes. You threatened you sister’s life with a note. You killed for Vault. You shot London and took her into Vault. And you hurt Alina in Colombia. And none of it was your fault,” Deck continued. “But this, what’s happening now, that’s all on you.”

“Don’t you think I know that,” I yelled, hitting the railing with my fist.

Deck stepped toward me. “Moreno is dead. Vault is disassembled and being re-built into something good. The drug is destroyed and you and Alina are free. We all are. But even from his grave, he has a hold on you. We were trained to withstand torture. We know what that shit can do to a man’s mind. And, yeah, I get you hate yourself right now, but I’m telling you again, Connor, you have two options on where this can go from here. Don’t need to spell them out to you. It’s a blazing billboard right in front of you.”

It made me sick to think that my sister knew what I’d done. My parents knowing… God, that would shatter them. They’d been proud of me, for what I did for my country. Now, they’d find out I helped a man who used kids for his drug business and made them into killers.

I couldn’t do that to them.

Deck stopped in front of me. “I see what you’re thinking, buddy. Don’t go there. None of this is your fault. It’s time to fix this. Make it right.”

I snorted. “Fix? I’m unfixable, Deck. I’m not feeling sorry for myself, that’s just reality.”

“What then? You sure as hell can’t leave. So, you stay around and what… watch her? And what happens when she finally gets over you and wants to date, maybe start a family. What then? You going to kill or threaten any guy who comes near her?”

My eyes hit his, fury rising at the mere thought of Alina dating other guys. “Didn’t I hit you hard enough the first time, asshole?” I retorted because it took everything not to slam my fist into his face again and again until… until what? I killed my best friend?

Fuck.

My chest felt as if it had a thousand pound weight on it and I was suffocating. Everything he said was true, but hearing it out loud was like a kick to the gut.

Deck had been my team leader, my rock. The man I trusted with my life more than any other and there were parts of me that wanted to let him in and stop fighting.