Prologue #2
It was probable that all the alcohol in Mike’s system was now making its way through the San Diego sewer system, but it wasn’t worth the risk being caught out in a DUI.
He’d leave his SUV where it was. It had a tracking system if anyone stole it and anyway, he was insured up to his eyeballs.
Tomorrow he’d have Barney drive him in. Tell him some lie about being on a stakeout.
Barney wouldn’t even question it. He thought Mike and Sam and Harry were gods.
Mike snorted at the thought.
He looked up at the night sky, clear, a few bright stars penetrating the light pollution of the city night. When he went camping, far from the city lights, he could see a billion stars at night.
When was the last time he’d been camping? God, he couldn’t even remember.
And what was he doing here, in this godforsaken part of town, fucking a semi-deranged woman? A woman who wanted him to hurt her? Mike had fucked a lot in his life but he’d always steered clear of the crazies. The druggies and the married ones and the crazies. Iron rule, never broken, until now.
What was he doing?
He knew what he was doing. Running away from Sam and Harry and their families, that’s what.
Sam Reston and Harry Bolt. They’d been boys together and now men and they were closer than brothers.
They’d all three of them grown up without families.
Sam’s mom had thrown him away like garbage when he was a newborn.
Harry’s mom and baby sister had been killed by his mom’s methhead boyfriend when he was twelve. And Mike—Jesus.
He rubbed his chest. How could it still hurt? The loss of his family had gone down twenty-five fucking years ago. He was a man. A Marine, a cop, a security expert. A sniper, one of the best there was. Tough as leather.
And it still fucking hurt.
Home. He needed to get home.
Why was he here and not at home? Well, besides the fact that home was big and empty, with nothing there for him, he’d seen his sisters-in-law give each other a Look.
The whole Christmas season they’d all eaten either at Sam’s place or Harry’s place. They all lived in the same building on Coronado Shores, where Mike had a large empty space he sort of called home because there wasn’t another one, so that was It. Home by default.
Sam’s huge apartment and Harry’s slightly smaller apartment in the condo had both been transformed into welcoming havens by their wives.
It was a tossup which was nicer. Sam and Nicole’s place was huge, their housekeeper was a fabulous cook, and as an ambassador’s daughter, Nicole was a gifted hostess.
Four floors down, Harry and Ellen’s place was a little smaller with no in-house cook, though Ellen had a little band of fanboys who happened to be restaurant chefs and they vied with each other to send her gourmet meals.
At any given time, they could be eating dishes prepared by chefs of the top restaurants in town.
There was another great thing about dinner at Harry’s. His wife was one of the finest singers in the world and dinner was often followed by little impromptu concerts that would have any music lover weeping with gratitude.
And the kids. Jesus.
Mike would walk over hot coals to play with Sam’s little girl Meredith.
Merry was adorable, bright and beautiful.
She loved her Uncle Mike and man, he loved her back.
Another little girl was on the way and they were all looking forward to her.
And Harry’s little girl Grace—she was only three months old and she already smiled when she heard his voice.
So it was real easy to fall into the habit of eating three, four and, now that he thought of it, even five nights a week either at Sam’s or at Harry’s. And of course the weekends they all hung out together. Barbecues on the terrace or take out pizzas and beer and ball games.
This year was the happiest Mike had ever been since his family had been slaughtered. He’d even lost a little weight because he was eating better, on a regular basis. Real food, too, not crap bar food.
His sex life had taken a hit, but if you held a blowtorch to his bare feet and pulled his fingernails out, he’d have to admit that he was more than a little sick of the bar scene and the impersonal sex that went with it.
So he was happily living through his brothers’ families, though that wasn’t the way he thought of it. Not until last night.
He’d spent New Year’s Eve at Sam’s house, playing with Merry, they’d all spent New Year’s Day together at Harry’s and the night after that at Sam’s. When Mike asked about today, there’d been a flash between Eve and Nicole and Sam and Harry. One look containing a thousand words.
Who was going to take on the problem child? The one who couldn’t get his act together?
Eve was tired because she’d given her annual Christmas concert and it took a lot out of her.
Plus Grace was teething and both she and Harry had bruised rings around their eyes from sleepless nights.
Nicole was three months’ pregnant, suffering from morning sickness and had a big important translating job she’d taken on over the holidays and was working on from home.
That was when it hit Mike like a blow to the head—they wanted to spend time on their own. Each family wanted to spend an evening alone, each in its own space, relaxing. The only one without a family to go to was Mike and they’d sort of taken up the burden of providing a surrogate family for him.
He burned with shame when he realized how often he simply took it for granted that he’d be welcome, any day he wanted, any meal he wanted. Feeding off the good vibes Sam’s family and Harry’s family gave off.
Mike Keillor, vampire.
He’d resolved to stop sucking at the teat of his brothers’ families and take care of himself. Starting now. This evening, he’d opened the fridge, seen bright glowing emptiness except for two six packs of Anchor Steam, and had headed downtown. Looking for something to eat and something to fuck.
Well, that’d turned out real well, hadn’t it?
Mike had an excellent sense of direction. He’d been top in his class in Scout/Sniper training and he’d made Force Recon. The map in his head turned, he turned and started walking.
Walking became a slow trot, because he wanted to escape from his thoughts.
And he wanted to get away from this part of town.
It was depressing, borderline dangerous.
The streets were dark, filthy. Pathetic bundles of clothes covered in cardboard huddled hard between the sidewalk and the building walls, hoping for a little leaked heat.