Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

MIKE

I didn't want to believe I was hearing what I thought I was. What was I thinking, throwing the door open like that? But dammit, I wasn't thinking. Then I saw them… together. The dog is barking as I pace through the house, my heart hammering, my head feeling light. There's a big difference between seeing them exchange looks and what I saw .

I run onto the porch, stumble onto the snow, keel over, and vomit. I feel like I'm coughing up the remnants of the friendship. I remember thinking earlier about how Jacob might be a good match for her. That was before I saw them. It made it real.

I wipe my mouth.

"Mike."

Turning at the sound of his voice, I see Jacob standing on the porch, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, both of them clearly hastily pulled on. His hair is a mess. He looks like a younger man, like the one I served with, his eyes not as dead as the years and his work made them.

"What the fuck?" I snap, marching over to him. I stare up at him, my fist clenched. "You knew we were all staying here together. You knew and…"

"There's no excuse."

My skin starts itching again when I see Emma walking up behind him. She's dressed quickly, too, her hair even messier than his, even more evidence of what they did. The sight of my daughter triggers something primal and protective in me. Suddenly, it doesn't matter how many times Jacob has saved my life or that I've saved his. It doesn't matter that he's always been my best friend.

I punch him in the mouth. He sees it coming, and he lets me hit him. I hit him again.

"Dad!" Emma screams, running toward me.

I turn away, marching into the snow, into the darkness. "Just leave me the fuck alone!" I bellow, hardly even thinking, unable to process this. A look across the table, some light flirtation, is a world away from what I saw and how their bodies were fused. It's so different from the cold reality of it.

I reach the tree line before my senses return and realize how useless this is. What do I think I'm going to achieve by walking out here?

Turning, I see something confusing. Jacob is running from the house with a rifle. He shouts something at me, but I can't hear it. Why can't I hear it? Why is my head hurting? Dimly, I remember something cold smashing into my skull, but I can't remember when. I fall into the snow, and then somebody hauls me to my feet. My vision is blurry. The stars aren't bright, but they're making my eyes hurt.

"Easy, tough guy," a man with a gruff Mexican accent says in my ear. Then he says something in Spanish, calling over to the house.