Page 124 of Black Sheep

“Wait…the video of my…the video was thirty-seven minutes?” Cleo asks.

“Yes,” Bolton and I say in unison.

The sound that rises from her throat is all wounded animal.

I caress my hand down her arm. Again she doesn’t react. “Cleo, what is it?”

“The video he sent me was twenty-one minutes,” she replies.

Fionnella moves toward her. “And let me guess. The footage makes Axel look guilty as hell?”

Cleo’s eyes meet mine. Shift away. Her mouth wobbles before she presses it tight.

Fionnella steps closer. “Just to be clear, you do know he’s not guilty, right—?”

“That’s enough,” I snarl.

“Son, I’m trying to help you. You’re not going to rest until this thing is behind you—”

“It’ll never be behind me.”

She mutters something under her breath about thick-headed alpha males with death wishes. “So, you’ll defend your country against assholes who deserve everything you dish out to them, but you won’t defend yourself?”

A rumble of acid builds in my gut. “I should’ve known it wasn’t just picking up and delivering a car.”

“So you’re going to punish yourself forever?” Fionnella presses.

I stand and face her. She doesn’t back away. Were my life not at the bottom of an abyss, I would smile at her fearlessness. “I owe you a debt for shedding light on this for me. If there’s ever a way I can repay it, all you need to do is ask. But your work here is done.”

She stares at me for an age before she gives a brisk nod. Going back to the sofa, she picks up her purse.

Bolton rises too. He looks lost for a minute before he clears his throat. “I’ll see you around, brother.”

I nod, too clogged up to respond. They both head for the door.

“Wait.”

“What happened to Michael’s body?” I ask.

Fionnella looks past me to Cleo, one eyebrow raised. “I have footage of that too. From Boston. But maybe you want to tell him?”

“Boston?” I jerk around.

Tears still falling, Cleo nods. “Finnan had him secretly cremated. He showed me the video. He…he and I buried his remains when we were in Boston.”

“Sweet Jesus.”

I barely hear them leave. But I watch Cleo slowly rise from the sofa. We stand feet apart, the universe between us.

Her eyes are huge pools of savage pain, regret and devastation. I want to take it all away, fold it into my own turmoil. But I’m not worthy to even touch her pain.

All I can do is will her not to fall apart. “I’m sorry, Cleo. So very sorry. God, if I could take any of it back…”

She shakes her head, her hand swiping at her cheeks. She sniffs and steps closer. “You…have nothing to be sorry about, Axel. Oh God, the things I accused you of. I ruined us. I ruined everything.”

“I didn’t look, Cleo! Compared to the other car we picked up, the Camaro was worthless, and yet we spent more time on it. I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t trust my instincts. And your father died because of it. There’s no coming back from that.”

More tears fill her eyes. “No, don’t say that. What happened is on Finnan. Everything that happened to us is on him.”

---