6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Ace
I knew the call was coming, but that doesn’t make it any easier to answer the phone when it does.
I let myself stare at Kellan’s name for two vibrations before ripping it off like a band-aid. “Hello?”
“On a scale of 1 to 10, where is he?”
Well, at least he didn’t start it off by yelling at me.
Not that Kellan yells very often, but when he does, it’s almost always because he’s worried about Keaton. And this is most certainly about Keaton.
“I’d put him at a 4. Maybe a 3 and a half.”
“Maybe?”
“Well, last time I spoke to him he was running on very little sleep and spinning out about Ellis Woods. I left him in a better place, though. So… yeah. Started out around a 6, but he went down to at least a 4, maybe a 3 and a half, by the end.”
“Mm.”
“You could always ask Adam to check in on him.”
“Mm,” he says again, this time much differently. The first was considering. This second was grumpy. It’s also a clear dismissal of the idea, which isn’t a surprise.
I don’t let myself smile, knowing he’ll hear it if I do.
“He wants to join Travis Kenton on his upcoming mission,” he says next.
“Yeah, I thought maybe that was what you were calling about.”
“He told you?”
“He did.”
“I don’t like it.”
I can’t help my smile then. “I told him you wouldn’t.”
He grunts. “Kid doesn’t care whether I like something or not.”
“You and I both know that’s not true.” I lean back in my seat, eyes remaining on my main monitor. I’m running a new lead for Mica - just a breadcrumb Jake found in one of my physical files. A long shot. “What don’t you like the most?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe him fucking dying?”
“There’s a chance of that, yeah, but there always will be for missions. Even outside of missions. Walking down the street could-”
“Trust me, if I could lock him in a padded cell, I would,” he interrupts. “But he’ll never be on board with that.”
I smirk. “He’s not on board with retirement yet, either. He’s cut back a lot for you, especially in these recent years, but you know he’s not ready yet.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I know.”
“And stop smirking.”
I have to physically put my hand to my mouth and force it to relax, the smirk fighting against me. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” He sighs dramatically - not on purpose to make me laugh, but because Kellan is apparently feeling very woah-is-me tonight.
He gets like that when his baby brother won’t listen.
Not that I’m complaining. I’ll take this version of worried-about-Keaton Kellan over the version that yells and threatens any day. “Tell me about Travis.”
“Stats or personal?”
“I do not give a single fuck about his personal life. Can he keep my brother safe?”
“He can. He’s one of the best. Didn’t deteriorate at all while undercover.
If anything, he got better. Especially with hand-to-hand.
Usually scores a perfect at the range. He’s a decent sniper, but nothing on Keaton.
It’ll definitely be Travis that needs to be sent inside anywhere if they want to do something with sniper cover. ”
He doesn’t respond, but I still know that won a point for Keaton getting to join Travis. I can’t lay it on thick, though. He’ll know. Just like he’ll know if I hide things.
That’s why I add, “I know you don’t care about personal, but he’s going through a lot. More than most operatives after coming in from undercover. I think that’s part of the reason Keaton wants to pair with him.”
“See, I thought maybe that was the case. Nosy little shit.”
“This is the operation with-”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. The little brother.”
“Yeah.”
“I let them save him.”
“I know.”
“Let Travis keep him mostly to himself, even.”
“I know.”
He’s quiet for a moment before asking, “How is he?”
I try to hide my surprise that he’s asking. The brothers aren’t relevant to Keaton, not for this mission. He doesn’t tend to care about anything other than Keaton. “The little brother or the big one?”
“Both. The Becketts, right? Maison and Carter?”
“Right. They’re… struggling. I think they’ll be alright, though. The whole triangle is a mess, but-”
“Triangle?”
I wince. “Oh. Uh. Travis - Travis and Carter sort of… fell in love.”
There’s a long stretch of silence. “You’re fucking with me.”
“Trust me, I really wish I was.”
“And Maison knows?”
“Yes.”
“Has he tried killing Travis yet?”
That is definitely not what I expected, but I probably should have. Kellan wouldn’t have just tried killing Travis if it was Keaton. He would have succeeded.
“Not yet. Hoping never, but I’m keeping an eye on it.”
“Messy,” he grumbles. “This whole thing is messy.”
“Very.”
“I hate messy.”
Don’t smirk, don’t smirk, don’t smirk. “I know.”
“You think Keaton will let it go? If he gets to do this with Travis?”
No.
I don’t know.
Even if he does, there’s still Bryce…
“I’m hoping.”
“Mm.”
“I think you should let him, for what it’s worth. It’s probably going to be pretty low-risk, all things considered, and it’ll make a big difference for him to get closure. It’s no secret this one fucked him up.”
“Trust me, I’m aware of that. I just don’t want him having any part of this mess. I don’t want you there either, but that’s too late. Why can’t Keaton just call you for updates? Why does he have to get involved too?”
I try not to notice the way my chest goes a little warm at the mention of him not liking that I’m involved in something so messy. I’m not a kid who needs validation from his parental figure anymore.
“He wants to help,” I tell him, because that’s what it always comes down to in the end. All Keaton has ever wanted to do is fucking help.
“He wants to help too much. He has to fucking stop helping. Kid’ll give his goddamn life if someone asks nicely enough.”
There’s no arguing that. It’s a problem. One we’ve yet to figure out how to solve. “But cutting it off makes it worse, remember? We’ve tried that.”
“Mm.”
“I told him if you let him go with Travis, that needs to be the end of it. I told him it needs to be for closure.”
“He agree?”
“He did.”
“You believe him?”
I huff. “I believe he believes it.”
“For fuck’s sake.” There’s a sound on his end, like a muffled thump or clunk. “The two of you are going to be the death of me.”
“Hey, what’d I do?”
“You enable.” There’s another sound, higher pitched. Glass against marble counters. Apparently when they talk to me, these brothers are driven to drink. I’d take it personally, but they were plenty dysfunctional before I ever came into the picture. “Goddamnit, Ace. I don’t like it.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“No, no, don’t do that. Stop.”
I mentally stumble a little. “Stop what?”
“I have it written on a sticky note on my desk. I’m not supposed to let you apologize for things that aren’t your fault.”
I’m pretty sure my eyebrows have never climbed higher on my forehead than where they likely are right now. “You do?”
“It’s something I’m working on,” he grumbles, not sounding at all happy about it.
“You… are?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But-”
“Kid, don’t do this to me. I have two brothers and one of them is a goddamn nightmare. You’re supposed to be the easy one. Let me be… brotherly. Accept the touchy-feely moment and put me out of my misery by letting us move on, yes?”
I stare at the computer screen in front of me without really seeing it.
I knew Kellan loved me, in his own way, but it was the stray cat kind of love. It was just a fondness. Just an off-shoot of Keaton’s love for me.
Or I thought it was, at least.
Keaton and I already established that we see each other as brothers, but Kellan? Really?
“You still there?”
“Yeah. Yes. Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“Right. Okay.”
There’s a pause before he makes a soft sound in his throat. “Dammit, I just made a second touchy-feely moment by calling you my brother, didn’t I?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you kind of did.”
“Can we skip over that one too?”
I laugh, relieved. “Yeah, we can.”
“Thank fuck.” He releases a sharp hiss, something he rarely does after taking a drink. He must have tapped into the strong stuff tonight. “I’m going to run for president.”
That’s… random. “Oh?”
“I’m going to make a law where you’re allowed to lock up little brothers to keep them safe.”
I fight another smirk. “That’s a very specific law.”
“I’m going to be a very specific kind of president.”
That’s… fair. “Well, I’ll vote for you.”
“Gee, thanks.” He sighs. “Alright. Okay. He can go with Travis. You’ll track them, right?”
“I will track the shit out of them, don’t worry.”
“And remind him that if he dies-”
“You’ll kill him,” I finish. “I doubt he’d forget, but I’ll remind him again anyway.”
“What about you?”
I frown. “What about me?”
“You know - your feelings or whatever. You doing okay?”
It’s not the first time he’s ever asked me how I’m doing. The man raised me, after all. He’s also incredibly good at pretending to be normal when he has to be. He’s probably only asking now because he knows he’s supposed to.
Still, it’s nice.
“Ellis Woods hit me hard, too. And I’m worried about Maison and Travis and Carter and-” Matt, despite barely even knowing him. “-the rest of them. I’m worried about Keaton, too.”
“This is when Adam would say something annoying like ‘but I asked about you’,” he points out.
“Which is exactly why I’m avoiding Adam like the plague.”
“Ah, I’ve taught you well, then.”
“Just about everything I know.”
“Jesus. The fact you’re not more fucked up is a miracle, you know that?”
“Um. Thank you?”
“Just… get some rest kid. You’ve never been good at that.”
I don’t make eye contact with the empty coffee mug to my left, or the energy drink I’m halfway through. I don’t think about the bottle of pills in the top drawer, or the broken deal with Keaton.
“Do you want me to tell Keaton that you said he can go?” I ask instead.
Someone else would call me out on changing the subject. Kellan’s likely just relieved the emotional stuff has been dropped. “Did I say that?”
“You tell me.”
He sighs. “Fine. Yeah. Go ahead and tell him he can go. But tell him he better fucking see it as closure. And he can’t die.”
“I will.”