Prologue
Elijah
Three years ago, when one of the guys on the base lost his son in a car accident, he’d described how he felt as a ‘crushing grief.’ I thought I could understand it, but until you’ve experienced that grief yourself, you’ll never truly appreciate how accurate that description was.
It felt like something was exploding inside my chest while it was crushed from the outside at the same time. It was hard to breathe, it was hard to understand, it was hard to even think.
What was the worst, though, was the knowledge that I hadn’t gotten there quick enough to save Coop. My best friend since kindergarten, my partner in crime, had needed me, and I hadn’t been there.
During the rescue, fifty-knot winds had wrapped me around the mast of the ship while I’d been lowering down to help the crew, and the winch cable had cut into my back and thighs. I’d sustained a ‘mild fracture’ in my T10 vertebrae, so now I had this wicked corset thing to wear for twelve weeks while I rested and recovered.
I’d been stuck in this bed in Fairbanks Memorial Hospital for three days, waiting for something they gave me to numb the pain inside of me. Fucking nothing worked, and they wouldn’t let me leave until the spinal specialist looked at the MRI I’d had this morning and gave his consent.
“Well, there’s some hot nurses at least,” my brother, Jackson, noted as he dropped down into the chair beside my bed. “When are you allowed to blow this joint?”
Not taking my eyes off the mark I’d been staring at on the ceiling since I woke up, I told him, “When the guy comes to tell me what the MRI looks like.”
There was a moment's silence, and then I heard the scuffling noise of the feet on the chair as it moved across the floor, closer to the side of the bed.
“Look, I know you’ve said no, but I think you should call Mom. She’ll want to help out and—”
“No.”
“Eli, you can’t do this yourself. She knows about Cooper because his parents have been informed, and she’ll want to be there for you, especially with your injuries.”
“No.”
I couldn’t face seeing her right now. It was bad enough Jackson knew and was here. Just for another day—fuck, another hour—I wanted to stay as I was. She was already mourning a man who was like another son to her, maybe even blaming me for it. I didn’t want to add to that by showing her I could hardly walk.
But could my brother leave it alone? No, he was an annoying dick who just had to push.
Leaning over me so that his face was three inches away from my own, he muttered, “Eli, you’ve been beaten up to hell and back. If the Alex Haley hadn’t arrived when it had, you’d be paralyzed right now, or you’d have been dragged down with the mast when the ship sank. I know—”
“You know jack fucking shit,” I roared, the buildup of pressure inside of me too much to keep a lid on any longer. “While I was swinging around from a goddamn cable, Coop was dying. It’s my job to stop that happening, it’s what I’ve done for fucking years, and I’m the reason he’s dead.”
Grabbing my face with his hand to make sure I was looking right at him, he took his life into his own hands. To hell with my back, and fuck the warnings—I wanted someone to feel this pain and to understand what I was going through.
“You didn’t fail, man. Coop broke his neck. He was dead the second it happened, Eli. All your training, all of your experience, nothing would have saved him.”
I should have.
Digging my elbows into the mattress, I was about to lever myself up to punch him when a voice I couldn’t disobey came from the door.
“I’m not here as your C.O.,” Samson growled. “I’m here as a friend. But if you move, I’ll pull rank and kick your ass harder than the doctors would want me to, do you understand?”
It took me a moment to decide what to do—fight versus respect and duty—but eventually, I straightened my arms out and willed the tense muscles to settle down again. Even the smallest movement felt like someone had cut my spine open with a knife, and what I’d just done had amped it all up to the point it even hurt to breathe right now.
Moving closer so I could see him, the man