Chapter 28 Shelby #2
She saw the worst of me and called it human.
She saw my cracks and said they let the light in.
She chose me. And it’s time I started choosing her back, not just with my actions, but with my whole heart.
I push back from the desk and stand. The room tilts briefly, then steadies. My head still pounds, but there’s a purpose beneath the pain that wasn’t there before.
“I need to clean up,” I say. “Get ready for the operation.”
There’s a shower in my en-suite bathroom. Fresh clothes in my locker.
Jack rises too, his movements slower but no less deliberate. “I’ll have someone bring coffee. Real food. You’re going to need your strength.”
I nod, come around the desk, and pull my father into an embrace.
“Dad,” I murmur against his shoulder. “Thank you.” The words sound inadequate, but I don’t have better ones. “For coming. For... this.”
Jack hugs me tighter, slapping my back with loving vigor before pulling away to stare into my face. His expression softens. The patriarch fades, and the caring father surfaces. The man who taught me to ride a bike, but also throw a punch and never back down from a fight worth fighting.
“Your mother would have been proud of you,” he says. “Not for the drinking. She’d have kicked your ass for that.” A ghost of a smile crosses his face. “But for loving someone enough to be terrified. That’s the kind of courage she believed in.”
I don’t trust myself to respond. Instead, I let go of him and step into the bathroom.
The shower is hot, almost scalding. I stand under the spray and let it wash away the alcohol sweat, the exhaustion, the breakdown. When I step out, I feel raw. Exposed. Like a wound that’s been cleaned and is finally ready to heal.
Fresh clothes. Black tactical gear laid out in my locker. I dress with the precision of long practice, each movement deliberate. Holster. Weapons. The familiar weight of preparation settles onto my shoulders.
But I’m not the same man who fell apart in that office.
I’m the man who’s going to bring his wife home.
I’m the man who’s going to look her in the eyes and tell her everything. The terror. The love. The absolute certainty that she’s the only thing that makes sense in a world that’s been chaos for a decade.
I’m the man who’s finally ready to try.
I make my way to the war room as the Syndicate headquarters comes alive around me. Men moving with purpose. Weapons being checked. The controlled chaos of an organization preparing for war. In a few minutes, we’ll launch an assault on Giovanni’s property.
I’ll either bring Serena home or die trying.
Fear is still there. It will always be. But it’s no longer in control. It no longer dictates my choices. It doesn’t whisper that I’m cursed and broken and destined to fail.
I’m choosing something different.
I’m choosing to believe that love is worth the risk. That Serena is worth the risk. That the man I want to become is worth fighting for, even if I have to fight myself to get there.
When I step into the war room, my brothers are already there. Dave looks up from the tactical display, his expression assessing. Tommy straightens from his position by the window, relief flickering across his features.
“You look better,” Tommy says.
“I am better.” I move to the table, studying the assault plan with fresh eyes. “Final walk-through before we deploy?”
Dave and Tommy exchange a glance. Something passes between them, a silent communication I can’t decode.
Then Dave nods and points at the map. “We go in from the east side. Two teams. Tommy leads Alpha through the main entrance. You lead Beta through the service access on the north wall.”
I add, “Joe’s team covers the waterfront. If Giovanni tries to escape by boat, they’ll intercept.”
I study the layout, my mind cataloging angles and contingencies. The tactical part of me, the Marine who’s led extractions in places far more hostile than an abandoned plant in Quincy, is fully engaged now. Clear. Focused.
But there’s something else there, too. Something that wasn’t there before.
Hope.
“One more thing,” I say, looking up at my brothers. “When we find Serena, I go in first. Alone.”
Tommy frowns. “That’s not protocol.”
“I don’t care about protocol.” I hold his gaze, letting him see the certainty in my eyes. “She’s been held by her father. Probably by Cesare too. She’s going to be scared, possibly hurt, definitely traumatized. The first face she sees needs to be someone who loves her. Not a tactical team.”
Dave considers this for a long moment. Then he nods. “All right. You go in first. But we’re right behind you.”
“Understood.”
Trust is something you choose. Every day. Every moment.
I’m choosing Serena.
I’m choosing to believe that I’m worthy of her love, even with all my broken pieces.
When we load into the vehicles, I rehearse what I’ll say to her once this is over. The words I’ve been too afraid to speak. The truth I’ve been hiding behind walls and whiskey and the conviction that I’m cursed.
The convoy rolls out toward Quincy.
Toward my wife.
Toward the moment I finally choose love over fear.