Sobs erupted from me. “NOOOO!”
Everything worth living for was fading in that moment. I had to be there for my little girl as her movements faded. “Faith, I’m here! I’m here, Faith! Daddy is here!”
There was nothing I could do. Helpless. I prayed for a miracle as I begged, “Baby, don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me!”
In that moment, I lost all that I had. All that I was. Everything.
Visions of what could have been flashed before my eyes—putting a swing together, seeing Jasmine teach our daughter to read, eating as a family.
Cradling the love of my life’s body, I rocked her. Rocked my baby with my hand on her stomach. My baby. My daughter. My Faith.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Life without Jasmine was no life at all. I screamed and my voice echoed through the open area. “KILL ME, MOTHERFUCKER! KILL ME! KILL ME NOW!”
Nothing happened.
Gone.
It was all gone.
The blackness took hold of my soul.
I let it.
Fire burned within my veins.
/> I welcomed it.
They should have killed me.
Now, I would hunt them down.
Every. Last. One. Of. Them.
Present Day
I SAT UP, gasping for air, drenched in sweat. Different night. Same fucking dream—Jasmine’s eyes looking at me right before she and our baby were murdered. The dream always left me hollow. It was the worst day of my existence that I lived over and over again—never able to escape. I deserved to be haunted for what happened in Alaska. If only the killer shot me instead, life would be better. The love of my life and child would be alive.
The clock read four in the morning. Two hours of sleep. I’d take it. Throwing on some jogging shorts, I hit the treadmill in my spare room. The speed of the belt propelled me forward while I pushed myself to the limit, which never seemed enough to do me in.
After the nightmare, most times, I ran while trying to burn away the rage that still loomed beneath the surface. I gritted my teeth as I thought about all I’d lost. My hands were balled into fists while I remembered.
I pushed myself hard, wanting to be numb.
I’d never be rid of it—that was for certain. All I could do was stifle the inner turmoil. There was nowhere left for it to go. I’d killed every motherfucker that had a part in Jasmine’s death.
Every. Last. One. Of. Them.
To get my revenge, I’d enlisted with the Black Division under the condition I got to hunt down and kill those responsible. They welcomed me back with open arms, but with their own condition … that I took on six missions of their choice.
Yeah, I took the deal.
No matter the price, revenge was the only thing that mattered. I thought back to my last day when I left Black Division for good, after I’d killed the two people responsible for my loved ones’ deaths … Enrique Consuelo and Eric Thornhill.
Sarge, my superior, walked up to me. The large scar on his face was from a knife fight in Afghanistan. “Are you sure we can’t talk you in to staying?”
My six kills were completed, which was my deal in order to find the men responsible for Jasmine’s death. The sorry son-of-a-bitch, Enrique, suffered. The memory of his screams were the only thing that brought me satisfaction. In hindsight, I would have made the pain last longer.