He stands and blows his cover instantly. His ghillie suit doesn’t work if he’s walking around amongst his surroundings. His gun drops to his side, and the car in the valley comes to a screeching stop just one bend before he would pull up in front of Soph.
“I have to leave.”
“Romeo!”
“Family emergency.”
He’s Soph’s muscle, he’s her trusted sniper and doer of bad shit, but he leaves her in the valley without a second glance as he sprints past me and into the thick trees surrounding us.
Jay screeches in my ear, but he doesn’t jump up or blow his cover.
The driver in the valley slams his car into reverse and spins his wheels to escape back the direction he came. If I wanted to make the shot, I could end this here and now, but my brain is stuck on Romeo’s actions.
The usually unflappable soldier sprints through the forest and away.
Family emergency.
“Yeah, I’m out too. I’m sorry.”
“Spencer!”
“Pull her out!” I jump to my feet and collect my shit. “Your team is out. Pull Soph out. We’ll regroup later.”
“Spencer Serrano! Where’s the brotherhood?”
“I’m sorry! I need to go to Abigail.”
* * *
I sit beside Troy–Romeo–Rosaall the way back to town. We’re silent. He doesn’t know why I insist on the ride along, but in exchange, he doesn’t tell me shit about hisfamily emergency. He’s got it on lockdown, the way we’re trained. We keep our personal shit personal, because if someone knows your weakness, they have a weapon against you.
He drives a black SUV he rented and tore out of the lot just an hour after his phone call. Jay and Soph are out of the valley, they’re safe. We’re still in communication with them, and they’re on the road just behind us.
Theoisn’t receptive to discussion anymore, as though our bail-out was confirmation that we are who he thinks we are. Our running was confirmation of whatever crimes he thinks we’ve committed; he’s wrong, but I can’t stay back to explain today. Beyond making sure Soph and Jay are okay, I shut them out of my head and instead dial Abigail’s number.
Over, and over, and over again, I dial. I need to hear her voice, I need to know she isn’t the family emergency Romeo speaks of.
I can’t ask him, because we’ve been brothers and friends since our reunion two months ago. I knew who he was the instant we locked eyes, I knew he was her brother, and I now know why the other brothers – Mitchell and Nixon – triggered me each time I saw them. The familiarity was too much. The eyes, the complexion, the attitude, it was all so obvious. But the fact I couldn’t place them bothered me.
That was until Troy stepped up and bridged the gap. Now I know. Now I get it.
But a guy doesn’t tell another guy he’s in love with their sister. He doesn’t blurt that shit out to someone like Troy Rosa without at least having that girl there to mediate.
So I ride along today and bounce my knee to rid my body of nervous energy just as surely as Troy does the same.
I dial over and over again as we drive, but I get no answer.
Maybe Marcie is the emergency, and Troy was getting the news later than I did. Maybe Abigail’s not taking my calls because she’s mad that I haven’t come home yet, so she’s punishing me. Or maybe she’s so twisted up in her grief for Marcie that she can’t come out of the shell she was comfortably jammed inside when we first met.
No matter which it is, it’s my job to fix it, so I bounce my knee, make my calls, and count the white lines on the road as we draw closer and closer to town.
We drive all day and night. We stop to piss and buy enough food that we don’t starve, then we keep moving.
Troy’s eyes don’t droop once. He’s a soldier through and through, and he’s been trained to stay sharp when it’s important.
His finger taps the steering wheel in a constant beat that reminds me of a heartbeat. A memory he has, perhaps, of the machines attached to his sister all those years ago.
My heart seems to constrict more and more the closer we get to town, until finally, I can’t hold it in any longer. I crack, when I never have in the past.