I winked.
His smile was a fucking grenade, and it blew the earth to smithereens as he stared up at me with silver eyes.
Damian clapped me on the shoulder. “Isn’t that something? The son of a bitch died in the same spot he murdered a kid. Hell. I love happy accidents.”
Sebastian made a choking sound, and Damian flashed him a gentle grin.
“Hey, kid. It’s good to meet you. Sorry about all this shit you’ve had to deal with. My team is going to take it from here.”
Sebastian nodded but his voice remained cinched in his throat. He placed a questioning hand on my jaw, tugging my gaze downward until they locked.
Tell me….his eyes plead.
So I told him.
Everything.
Damian Madoni and I met over ten years ago, on the first night of training camp when we were both drenched in sweat and self-pity. We trailed war zones together, counted bullet casings to pass the time and slept side by side in the dirt.
Bloodshed had this way of turning strangers into brothers, and though Damian wasn’t Charlie, he was a close fucking second.
Nobody wore allegiance the way Damian Madoni did, and I knew the only way to win this battle was to bring his team to the front lines.
I’d mailed copies of Foster’s photos to his office and lengthily described everything I’d witnessed. In the bottom of the envelope was a snapshot of Sebastian and a single sentence.
He’s my unit now.
Sebastian St. James was my miracle bird, and if he fell, the whole fucking sky would come tumbling down.
“They’re not… they’re not going to arrest you? Take you away?”
“Arrest him?” Damian scoffed, and his lips curved. “For what?”
Sebastian’s head shook, eyes damp with disbelief. “So, it’s over then?”
“It’s over, gorgeous. Damian’s team has been here for the last ten days. They’ve got footage of your father’s total production. An evidence team is down in that building right now, bagging and tagging everything. I don’t know that they’ll be able to indefinitely prove your father killed Foster, but those photos he took provide some intense motive, and you can sure as shit believe that’ll be public record.”
“We’ve got Frank DuMont in cuffs. Dude is singing like a tone deaf canary.” Damian folded his arms across his chest and nodded at the campus. “The Bureau will probably shut the school down for a couple of days, interview staff and students to see if anybody else was threatened or harmed similar to Mr. Lake.”
Sebastian's forehead tightened, and he gave my upper body a little shake. “Daddy, they can’t… they can’t shut down the school. These kids don’t have anywhere else to go.”
I placed a hand on the back of his head, stroking over his tangled hair. “I don’t think they’re planning to kick them out of their homes, baby. Just cancel classes for a little bit. A new board president will need to be sworn in, a new headmaster chosen.”
“Promise me you won’t let them throw these kids away. If they had suitable homes to go to, then they wouldn’t be here.”
I shot Damian a hard look. He responded with a curt nod and a tap to his radio before walking away.
“I promise, baby bird. Everyone is safe now. Especially you.”
Sebastian pressed a palm to his chest, voice cracking. “Why didn’t you… tell me?”
I cupped his cheek. “I wanted to protect your heart. Your wings. If something went wrong, I wanted to be certain you could still fly.”
Chin quivering, he pulled his lips into his mouth, sniffing once before launching himself at me. He crawled up my body with renewed fervor, fastening his arms around my neck and legs around my waist.
“I’m never letting go.”
Don’t.