Page 32 of Desiderium (Devil Dogs of the Apocalypse #2)

Aly turns her gaze to Cole, lying still on the floor. He hasn’t moved yet this morning and I can see the longing in her eyes to stay with him until he does so. “I can go with you,” I say in her place. “Aly can stay here with Cole and we can get in and out and be back by noon.”

“No, Hawk. It’s Aly’s turn. She knows the drills. She knows what to do. Besides, I need someone looking out for Cole in case something turns up here. Aly’s good, but I’d rather her not have to go up against something by herself.” Jax doesn’t say it, but I know what he means.

He left Aly on Cole-watch when we separated at the estate.

Since I was checking over Cole one last time before we left them, I don’t think Jax meant for me to overhear, but I knew, deep in the pit of my guts, he tasked her to take him out if he turned.

Now, faced with the same decision of separating our group, he doesn’t want to place that burden on her all over again.

And he can’t ask me to take his place because I have no idea where he left the truck with all the gear.

Even though the last thing I want is to be placed on transition watch, I’m the only choice left.

“Ok, then.” I nod, resigned to my task. “Aly, I love you. Be safe. You kids have fun but don’t stay out too late.

It’s a school night after all,” I say with a fake smile as light heartedly as I can.

Even though she sees through my shit, she still nods back before kissing me on the cheek.

Pulling away, reluctantly, she joins Jax, leaving through the front door moments later.

The sound of the old ass station-wagon turning over and leaving echoes through the house and then, before I know it, silence. Deafening silence. I don’t like it.

I fidget with my fingers for a second before blowing out a slow breath and taking a seat next to Cole’s prone body. He’s still out. No movement apart from the rise and fall of his back.

I don’t get it. Why him? Why couldn’t it have been me? I’d gladly take his place if given the chance, as fucked up as this whole situation is, but how else am I supposed to feel? He’s my brother. Not from the same blood, obviously, but you don’t have to be blood to be family. And he’s mine. Ours.

“Come on, bro, wake up. Time for some shitty ass coffee.” The words come out in a mocking singsong as I push on his shoulder, trying to wake him up.

Nothing.

“Aly’s looking pretty scrumptious, this morning. Bet you wanna take a look at what we’re seeing. Pretty awesome, bro. Don’t wanna miss out on that.”

Nothing.

I lift my hand to his hair, softly grasping a few strands.

After we left the estate, we each let our hair grow out a bit.

No real priority to do anything about it when you’re just trying to survive.

We still shaved or trimmed our facial hair from time to time, but the rest of it?

Didn’t matter in the long run. Aly didn’t mind and we certainly didn’t either when she ran her fingers through our hair.

“You need a haircut, my man. Bad . We need to set that shit up ASAP before Aly dumps your ass for someone hotter.”

More silence.

I look around at the white furnishings. The static quarantined feeling of emptiness surrounding me. The unease of it all filling me. I try to drown it out, focus on the one thing still alive in front of me, and let the seconds pass.

Then minutes...

An hour...

...

Two...

The sun has shifted noticeably in the window.

Nothing...

I’ve been sitting here with him this entire time, trying to jostle him into consciousness and he’s giving me fucking nothing. Something has to be wrong. He should’ve been up by now. Looking at his bandaged back, I’m positive he’s going to need some pain meds. What the fuck is going on?

My breath catches in my throat, choking on the dark thoughts streaming wildly through my mind.

Oh, holy shit... it’s fucking happening...

No. No. No. Calm the fuck down. He’s going to be ok. He’s just tired and hurt. Recuperating. Stop fucking overreacting.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. Fuck this silence.

“Remember that day in Afghanistan? When the MATV got hit?” I take his hand in mine and squeeze.

“I was knocked out cold for a minute or whatever but you were right by my side when I woke up on the ground next to the road. Remember that shit?” I chuckle softly under my breath, my eyes getting misty.

“Of all the things you could have said in that moment, you decided to say, ‘ What’d you get yourself knocked on your ass for, Studly Do-right? It was just an IED. Pull yourself together man.’ You laughed and then proceeded to ask if anything felt broken.

” I huff at the memory. “I was so happy it was you that I didn’t even care that everything hurt like a bitch and you were acting like a dick.

You were there. It was you. And I knew that out of anybody there, I was going to be ok, because you were there by my side. ”

I sigh, shaking my head at the memory, trying to get a hold on my emotions because I can’t let them get to me.

Not now. I take another deep breath in through my nose, composing myself, but it’s useless in the end; the words are choppy and stuttered, regardless.

“Well guess what, fucker? I’m here now and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.

You’re gonna be… just fine. Just …fucking fine if you’d just fucking WAKE THE FUCK UP, MAN! ”

Nothing...

A lone tear takes a path down my cheek but I force myself to pull it together as much as I can.

He doesn’t need me screaming at him—he’s been through enough.

I move closer to his side, my hand resting in his hair as I whisper in his ear.

“Come on, bro. Wake up. Please. Just… wake up. For me. For Jax. For fucking Aly, man.” My breath catches, tearing my heart right out of my chest. “Come on. Just… just give us something.”

Anything...

“Let us know you’re ok and you can sleep the day away after that. I don’t. Fucking. Care. You just... You gotta wake the fuck up, man... Come on, Cole… Please… Please .”

Another tear falls.

Fucking nothing...