Eyebrows rose, and his brothers shared a glance.
Grams continued smiling. Her unshakable faith in him sparkled in her dark eyes.
“Do what you do,” Zeke said. “Just keep me updated, and I’ll do the same.”
Rohan tore into his computer again.
The tension that had been slowly building for months—years—dissipated. Now Zeke had to make sure he never stoked it into existence again.
“We won’t let—” Phin began, but seemed to struggle to get the words out. “We won’t let you down, bro.”
Zeke’s own throat tried to shut down. “I know it. I have all along. It’s just that I—” His gaze lost its focus, unable to look any of them in the eye. “I was afraid of . . . ”
His words were all balled up in his throat, clawing to get out, like a terrified crowd trying to cram themselves through a narrow doorway.
“Ezekiel.” Grams’s voice cut through the thickening darkness.
He blinked and focused on her brown, wrinkled face, on the serenity she brought to every conflict.
Her beloved voice pierced the digital distance. “Family first.”
Zeke’s hand curled into a hammer.
“Through blood,” Phin said.
“Through hate,” Rohan added.
“Through fear,” Cruz said.
Steel sharpened his back.
“Through joy,” Ash said quietly from the doorway. “Don’t forget the joy.”
Had he knocked? Zeke couldn’t recall. He’d been so focused on the screen before him that his surroundings had blurred. Ash had never participated in their rallying cry before. Zeke wasn’t even aware he knew about it.
Having his big brother witness this moment was cataclysmic. Unfortunately, he couldn’t decide if he should be celebrating the moment or scraping it from history.
Either way, he and Ash had a reckoning coming. But not today. Not now.
Now was about unity.
Zeke nodded, joining the chorus. “No exceptions.”
The audio fell silent for a moment. Love, determination, and a unified desire wove around each of them.
“Let me know when you have something.” Zeke didn’t doubt that they would, and soon.
“Count on it,” Cruz said.
Having this long-overdue conversation behind him should have relieved some of his tension. In a way it did, though almost immediately his shoulder muscles bunched and tightened until he thought the sinew would snap.
Sensing the conversation wasn’t over, Rohan lifted his attention from his laptop and asked, “What’s the matter?”
Tiny needles pricked the nerves running down his spine. What he had to discuss with them would either strengthen their newly formed bond or it would rip off the bandage and leave them all broken and bloody.
Family first.
He took a leap of faith. “One more thing . . .”