Page 19 of Unmade

I couldn’t have Alex run free or anything, but in the basement…? And on the first floor, for that matter. That was where I spent most of my time anyway, and it wasn’t a sensitive area, so to speak.

“She’s certainly more like you and Vince,” Kat reasoned. “I would’ve hated it at her age, but considering Vince already took her trap shooting…”

I grinned. I’d been there too. Fun weekend, with Alex constantly yelling “Bang, bang, bang!”

“Would your superiors allow it?” she asked.

I shrugged and scratched my elbow. “I think so. They had no issues when Vince brought her along. I wouldn’t exactly have her sit in on briefings and shit. But, like…if I’m working out in the basement, or I’m preparing tests or checking scores in the library or one of the rec rooms, I don’t see the big deal.”

She nodded thoughtfully, then tilted her head at me. “Is this only so you won’t put any pressure on Mom? Because isolating herself the way she’s done isn’t healthy either. She will fade away in her grief if she doesn’t start seeing what else she has to live for. You and Alex will need her once school starts again. And what happens when you get shipped off on another assignment?”

“I didn’t say I was done thinking.”

She grinned sympathetically and touched my arm. “What about Kristen? Do you think she’ll be there for Alex?”

I grimaced. Let’s not even…

“She was on her way out the doorbeforeVince was killed,” I replied wryly. “Things haven’t exactly improved since then.”

She knitted her brows together. “Then why don’t you end it?”

Because—

I sighed.

Realization dawned on my sister. “Because you’ve already checked out. You’re waiting for her to pull the trigger. For chrissakes, Bo.”

“I’ll get to it,” I said defensively. Fuck! Why did this have to become a thing now? I had to get to work. “We can talk about this later. I have sixteen recruits to greet in the lobby at nine.”

* * *

Dear little brother, I’m gonna start interviewing qualified people for Alex. She will need someone with her after school to make sure she does her homework and eats something better than mac and cheese from a box. Our goal for her is stability and a good environment to grow up in. She can’t spend all her nights at Hillcroft. Worst-case scenario, we’ll delay the sale of the house. I can stay here with the kids until we find a permanent solution, and then we’ll join Eric in San Diego.

Out of the fucking question. For starters, that family had spent enough time apart. Eric was so over it, and he missed his wife and kids. How did I know? Because he bitched about it to me all the fucking time. It wasn’t a normal week if he didn’t send me at least three texts with complaints.

Secondly, we had another month and a half to figure things out.

I sent her a quick reply.

Cease and fucking desist. We’ll figure it out before Eric comes home. Go bake cookies, you damn mac and cheese hater.

There. I tossed my private phone into my locker and slammed it shut.

“Fuck you, Vince,” I whispered to myself.

I remembered the day he asked me to be Alex’s godfather—or guardian or whatever. Alex had been around one year old, and she had screamed bloody fucking murder in his arms. Vince had been all smiles. He’d just started coming out of his own grief after losing Mandy, and it’d been a good day for him. He’d thrown an arm around my shoulders, and he’d said, “If anything ever happens to me, I want you to take care of her.”

I’d laughed, of course. Our sister had already popped out three kids at that point, so she was the obvious choice. But no. Vince had insisted, because he’d believed that Alex would save my life.

If by saving my life, he meant he wanted me to be riddled with worries and frustrations, then great. He’d been right. I was saved.

His quiet voice cracked in my earpiece. “Take care of my baby girl, brother.”

A shot rang out in my head.

“Vince, no! Fuck!” I shot up to my feet on top of the container and just unloaded my gun on the sick motherfuckers down on the ground. “Operator down, backup and transport requested!”

“Responding—”

---