Chapter 18

I almost lost him.

I couldn't stop shaking just like I couldn't stop rocking back and forth. I'd hoped sitting on Dalton's boat would soothe me like it did him, but it made no difference. I was lost in my own little world where Dalton and I were still lying on the lounger, our arms wrapped around each other.

I needed that moment back. I needed to go back so I could hold him tighter. So tight that he'd never be able to leave me behind.

But he had left me.

How had this gone so horribly wrong?

The sound of footsteps burst the tiny bubble I'd built around me to shield me from the image of Dalton lying face down on the floor next to his bed. I knew immediately that it wasn't him. The footsteps were too even to be Dalton's because he shuffled when he walked.

I had no idea how much time had passed but it didn't matter. I was too numb to care about anything. I needed to stay numb. I needed to not feel. I needed to be the Silver I'd been; the one who'd survived for so many years with Ivan.

"Silver, do you mind if I come on board?" Jace asked.

I wanted to tell him no because then I could pretend that the whole thing had only been a cruel dream and I would wake up at any moment. I'd be back in Dalton's arms on the lounger, and he'd gently wake me up. He'd chase the nightmare away with soft kisses on my neck, my jawline, the sensitive spot behind my ear.

The boat swayed sharply one way, then the other.

"Wake up," I whispered. I didn't realize I was repeating the same two words over and over to myself until I felt a hand settle on my shoulder.

"Silver…"

I shook my head violently but didn't say anything. I didn't want Jace to touch me. I didn't want to hear his voice. I didn't want him or anyone else to come near me. There was only one person I wanted.

"He's going to be okay," Jace gently said. "He's sleeping comfortably. I have someone watching him in case he wakes up before we get back to the house."

I couldn't stop the harsh sob of relief that threatened to steal my breath.

"I should have called you sooner," I murmured. I didn't recognize my own voice and for the life of me, I couldn't stop rocking back and forth. "I should have done it as soon as I knew."

"You did everything right, Silver. He's alive because you chose to stay. You chose to pick up that phone when you realized this time wasn't the same as the others," Jace said with a heavy sigh. "God, if you hadn't been here?—"

"I'm the reason he did this," I said sharply. I finally managed to look at Jace. He was a mess. His clothes were wet in spots, and he still had Dalton's vomit on his shirt. "I did this," I repeated, my voice cracking. "I was cruel to him. I was angry and hurt. And scared. So fucking scared," I admitted. "I made him remember things he didn't want to remember. I did this."

Jace didn't respond right away. I couldn't help but drop my eyes. I only knew the man through his sister's stories about him.

"Silver, look at me. Please," Jace said. It wasn't a command; it was a request. I forced myself to do as he asked. "Dalton did this," he said firmly. "Dalton chose to drink too much, to take too many pills." Jace paused before he dropped his eyes. "I know you're blaming yourself right now. You're asking yourself what you could have done differently."

Jace hesitated briefly before adding, "You're allowed to be pissed at him, Silver. You're allowed to rip him a new one when he wakes up. You're allowed to be scared shitless. You're allowed to wish you hadn't seen him like that. The one thing you can't do is carry this for him." Jace's voice increased with every word he said, and it dawned on me that he wasn't only talking about me.

He fell silent for a long time. His despair was obvious.

"I never saw it," Jace said with a shake of his head. He had his arms crossed but not in a way that proved he was angry. No, his stance was that of someone trying to come to terms with what had happened. "He's my best friend. He's my brother," he murmured. I knew Dalton wasn't actually Jace's brother but the bond they had was clearly the same even if they didn't share the same blood.

It hurt to see a man like Jace trying to hold himself together. I instinctively knew that he was the kind of person who wanted to fix things—needed to fix them—but this time he couldn't.

"How did you meet him?" I asked.

A soft smile tugged at his mouth. "Army," he responded. "Boot camp. We were two stupid kids who didn't understand what it meant to take someone's life. We officially met when we had to spar… to fight one another as part of our training. He kicked my ass. I got to return the favor when it came to shooting. I hit the target every time. Dalton, not so much."

I couldn't help but be reminded about Dalton's physique. He was heavier than Jace, but it was also all muscle.

Muscle he'd only used on me the one time when I'd woken him up from his nightmare.

"He ultimately became my spotter. That's the person who works with a sniper to get the information they need to make the shot."

"What's a sniper?" I asked.

"It's someone who can make a shot and hit his target from a long distance. The spotter helps measure data like wind direction, speed, and the exact location of the target. He also surveils the area around himself and the sniper to make sure the enemy can't sneak up on them. He communicates with the superior officers who are ordering the hit. They give the final go-ahead and then the sniper determines when to take the shot."

It was a lot to digest but I found it didn't really bother me if I didn't truly get it. I understood what enemies were. I'd lived with one nearly my entire life. If given a gun along with no one to interfere, I couldn't say I wouldn't have taken the shot.

"What happened to his back?" I asked. It was something I would have liked to eventually ask Dalton directly, but that opportunity had flown out the window when I'd seen Dalton lying on the floor and Jace trying to wake him up.

Jace, for his part, didn't seem to mind freely talking about the man who'd somehow become so intertwined in my life that sometimes it felt like he'd been with me forever, if not in person, then in my head, encouraging me to keep fighting, to stay alive.

"That happened on his last deployment. I left the army after our first deployment, but Dalton chose to stay in. So I wasn't there when it happened, but I learned about it when I went to see him in the hospital. Several IEDs went off when his team was doing recon on this small town. He was lucky because everyone else on his team died. He ended up with shrapnel—those are small pieces of metal—penetrating his back in multiple places. Doctors got all but three of the pieces out. Those pieces were very close to his spinal column."

I was shaking by the time Jace was done talking because it was registering how close to death Dalton had been.

"So that's why he's in pain all the time? Can't the doctors do something to get rid of the metal somehow?"

"They could have tried to remove them surgically, but there was a high risk that removing even one of them could cause permanent damage."

"What kind of damage?" I asked, my heart in my throat. More pieces of who Dalton was were falling into place, painting a picture that was tearing me apart inside.

"If the surgery failed, Dalton could have been left paralyzed from the waist down, or even from the neck down. He chose not to have it done."

I found myself nodding as I considered what I would have done in the same situation.

"So the doctors gave him pain medication," I murmured.

"Yes, but nowhere near what he's been taking. And they sure as shit didn't tell him to drink alcohol at the same time. It's a fatal combination."

I felt like I was going to be sick.

"Um, is it okay if we don't talk anymore?" I asked. I needed Jace gone so I could deal with all the emotions running through me. Not to mention that it was very likely I'd throw up right over the side of the boat.

Before Jace responded, a man at the top of the stairs called something I couldn't hear because there was too much noise going on in my head and I was desperately trying to stuff it in that box hidden away in my mind.

"Silver, did you hear that? Dalton is awake. Do you want to come to the house and see him?"

All I could do was shake my head. I hoped to God that Jace didn't ask me why or try to force me to accompany him.

There was a long beat of silence before Jace said, "Okay. Come up when you're ready. I'm going to have one of my guys come down here just to keep an eye on things, but he won't bother you."

I may or may not have nodded. I felt the boat sway sharply once more and then it was quiet again. At least on the outside.

I didn't know what to do.

Yes, I did. I just didn't want to admit it.

I couldn't let this man destroy me. I couldn't let him consume my life like Ivan had. Though Dalton was nothing like Ivan, even when it came to his dependence on drinks and pills, if I stayed, I'd only get more emotionally attached to the man.

What if there came a day where he succeeded in mixing too much alcohol with too many pills and Jace wasn't there to help him? What if I was the only one there to lift him off that floor so he wouldn't choke on his vomit, a task I wouldn't have managed because not only was I not strong enough to lift Dalton but also because I hadn't known that was even a possibility? Or what if he was already gone and I was the one who had to feel his cold, lifeless body?

"No," I said with a harsh shake of my head.

"No," I repeated and then I was standing with every intention of getting as far away from Dalton as I could, but my knees buckled, sending my ass down to land hard on the lounger.

That was when they started again.

The silent tears that streaked down my face.

I hadn't cried during nearly any of the time I'd spent with Ivan, even when Maggie had died, because tears would have merely been a distraction. A useless distraction.

But try as I might, I couldn't stop the hot, salty tears that flooded my cheeks.

Just like I couldn't make myself get up and walk away like I'd vowed.