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“Don’t do your FBI crap on me.” Hunter pushed him in the shoulders, but that didn’t budge him an inch. All the Stone brothers were between six feet and six-three, and Trey beat Hunter by half an inch. He liked to make sure Hunter knew he was the tallest, the oldest, and the one in charge.
“You need to think about what you’re doing here.” Brooks said the words in a tight, controlled manner.
Kensi moved in front of Hunter. “You guys, we’ve all been through a lot. Just leave him alone.”
Hunter wasn’t in the mood for her protection. He stepped around her and shoved Brooks again. “It’s okay. I want to talk about it.” Sarcasm dripped from his words.
Marshall let out a warning laugh. “I’ve never seen little bro want to fight. That was usually Trent.”
Someone sucked in a breath, and the moment turned awkward.
Hunter turned to face him. “You’re right, Marshall. Trent was always the one tearing it up and making the jokes and acting like nothing mattered. Heck, even that last day, he couldn’t just do what Bravo One wanted him to. No, he had to be some idiot who runs across the battlefield.”
“You’re right. It’s not okay.” Marshall took a step back, his face somber. He put a hand to his chest. “Trent was an idiot.”
“Yes, he was.”
Kensi scowled, angry tears on her cheeks. “He wasn’t an idiot. We all know that, Hunter. And we all know that you would have saved him if you could.”
Bam. Kensi did it again: hit the emotional nail on the head. She was good at that.
“Just don’t.” Hunter shook his head. Images from that day crashed through him as they’d done on repeat over the past three weeks. “Just …” He was sure she didn’t mean it, but the words seemed accusatory to him, like itwashis fault. “And there it is. I was supposed to somehow save him.”
Trey moved toward him and tried to put a hand on his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault.”
That was just the thing to make him explode. He decked Trey in the face. “Don’t talk to me.”
Trey absorbed the blow, but the tightness in his face told Hunter that he’d gotten in his one free shot.
Hunter bit down on his anger and turned to face Brooks, who was right in front of him.
“Hit me,” Brooks said. “If it’s going to make you feel better, throw one good punch. Do it.”
Hunter acted like he was turning away, then swiveled back around and aimed his fist at Brooks’s gut. He should’ve known better than to mess with Brooks, because he sidestepped easily out of the way. Hunter was left spinning from the inertia of the failed punch.
Marshall laughed, and Hunter turned the punch on him. But Marshall had been anticipating something like that too, because he grabbed Hunter’s fist and yanked him forward.
Hunter dropped to his knees. More tears burned into his eyes and down his cheeks, and he didn’t care. “He never should have crossed the battlefield and he never should have tried to save my life.”
None of them spoke.
“I should have seen the trip wire he stepped on and cleared it before he came. I was the one in charge of bomb squad that day and I should have ….” He cursed. “It should have been me. I should have stepped on that stupid trip wire. Me!”
Kensi was immediately at his side, a hand on his shoulder. “No, Hunter, it wasn’t your fault. None of this was your fault.”
He bent his head and cried. It felt like the pain would never quit. “Yes, it was.”
More hands landed on his shoulders, and then his brothers surrounded him, kneeling in a tight circle on the bedroom floor. His siblings were crying too.
After a long time, Hunter finally stopped.
Trey put pressure on his back. “We all go into war knowing we might not come out. We take that on ourselves. Trent took that on himself.”
Hunter knew he was right, but … he wished he could change so many things.
“That’s right,” Marshall said. “I’ve made decisions that have cost lives.” He sucked in a long breath, tears on his face. “I would have happily given up my own life for the others, just like you would right now, but …” He shook his head.
Brooks took up the thought. “You know there is only one person in charge of whether we live or die, and it’s not us.”
