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Dominic

A good leader knows when to step back.

But also, when to step up.

It takes me nearly thirty minutes to find him.

The house is a mess. There’s mud all through the halls and more than a little blood. People are swarming everywhere, charging through the halls with medical supplies or blankets, or trying to find some food or a place to sleep.

Eden seems to be everywhere. Directing people to the gym or to sleep in certain rooms, dragging medical supplies under her arm one minute and a pot of foul-smelling slop the next.

She tells me distractedly that I’m not on watch until tomorrow morning and orders me to sleep, then rushes off to kneel beside Beau before I can check if she’s okay.

I watch her for a moment, the quiet determination set in her face as Beau snaps a dislocated shoulder back into place.

She has this.

But there’s one thing I can take off her plate.

I find Jayk sitting in the surveillance room, staring up at the ceiling. With his boot against the wall, he rocks his chair absently, lost in himself. He doesn’t flinch when I enter.

The wall of screens behind him is finally lit back up again.

Over a dozen are blacked out, their feed cut.

The rest display various shots of soaked, sad leaves, or branches being whipped by the wind.

Several have shots of Sinners pitching a wall of tents between the trees, creating a perimeter around Bristlebrook.

Walking over to the HAM radio, I lean against the table.

The silence stretches for a long time before he grits out, “Just say whatever you came to say and fuck off, Dom.”

It doesn’t have the heat it might have had even a few weeks ago.

He’s not the man he was even a few weeks ago.

Neither of us are.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” I ask.

A frown flickers over his face, as Jayk shrugs at the ceiling. “Base camp, assignation. What does?—”

“It was before that.”

Jayk’s chair stops rocking.

“I went to as many as I could—the graduations,” I continue.

“The Colonel liked to make an appearance for the new recruits coming through. For morale. I’d tag along because.

..” I grimace, remembering dozens of days of uniforms and handshakes.

Endless days off spent on base, chasing something I never found.

Humorlessly, I laugh. “Because I thought that’s what he wanted from me. ”

That day had been hot and dry, the sun beating down on our uniforms as they welcomed a new class of Rangers to our ranks. Beau was beside me, trying not to get caught muttering about how we should be down at the club with whichever sub he’d been flirting with at the time.

“They got to the tap outs. They were always my favorite part.”

My small smile is more genuine for that, remembering the stern ranks of new recruits, not allowed to move—not allowed to break —until someone came to claim them.

Proud mamas hugging their boys.

Girlfriends pressing desperate kisses to their hard-missed men.

Small kids tangling chubby arms around uniformed legs.

“You see who people are at a tap out,” I tell Jayk roughly, and finally, he turns to look at me, his face stiff.

It’s when the bravado breaks and their loved ones crash in, and their careful ranks fall apart as they hug back their mamas and kiss their girls and sweep their kids into their arms. You see the tears.

“You see what they’re fighting for,” I say softly.

Jayk’s boot drops off the wall.

His jaw works, tense, as he stares back.

That day, the families and the soldiers finally bled away, leaving the field. Beau left my side, groaning about finding a hot dog.

They all pulled to the side.

Until five men stood alone on the field.

I watched a fellow recruit jog back and tap out two of them. One of those tapped out the third, and they clapped each other on the back—more subdued, but still laughing. Another man slunk off the field by himself, not waiting for a tap, and I watched my father’s mouth tighten, unimpressed.

The last man, the other recruits shied away from, and I remember the fucking rage that sparked in my gut as they left him behind.

I watched him stand at attention, too proud to walk away.

I watched the crowd milling about on the sidelines, paying him no mind—the families too busy clinging to one another in a way that always felt so far away.

I watched the Major overseeing the ceremony grimace and step forward to do it himself, muttering something about this always being awkward.

I remember striding onto the field, burning with an anger I’ve never been completely able to understand.

Anger at all these families and friends and the easy love they throw at each other. The kind that I’m not a part of, and this stranger isn’t, either.

“Why did you go?” I ask.

The ceremonies aren’t mandatory. The tap out is just a custom. He didn’t have to put himself through it.

Jayk buries his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes before he looks up at me.

“My mom was so fucking mad when Ryan and I went through Basic. Off her meds. She was. .. I don’t know.

She was fucking terrified, I guess. We didn’t think she’d come.

” He gives me a rough smile that looks like it hurts. “She did, though.”

Behind him, the screens flicker and change. Alastair strides past one camera with Heather in his grip, pushing past a big bald man.

Jayk grimaces, sitting up. He’s slowly turning his pocketknife through his fingers, and his gaze turns inward.

“Ryan always wanted to be a Ranger. He never qualified. Too fucking sloppy.” He shakes his head once, and I realize he’s not bitter now.

He just looks like his heart has been ripped out.

“After the accident... I don’t know, I signed up.

Did it. I wanted to be there. It’s fucking stupid, but.

.. I knew he’d want me there. He’d have been proud.

” His voice is raw. “If he didn’t go and get himself killed, Ryan would have tapped me out. ”

But his brother wasn’t there.

That day, I walked up to the big, rough, tatted soldier instead, just the two of us alone on the field.

Jayk stared straight ahead, over my shoulder, while the sun all around us seared us both.

“Congratulations, Ranger,” I told him.

He didn’t shift, didn’t move, not until I clapped a hand to his shoulder, releasing him.

Then, his eyes moved to my face, bitter and full of an anger I recognized.

I nodded, but didn’t step back as I met the look. “Hope you’re ready for it.” I smiled dryly. “You’re one of ours now.”

He didn’t say a word to me as he looked me over. Not as he turned away and stalked off the field. Not in the weeks after when I had him moved to my unit, for reasons I could never quite put my finger on.

Just like I didn’t say a word to the Colonel when he came up beside me with a brief nod, telling me that was “well handled.” When I should have felt the usual kick of relief at his approval, but all I felt was a slightly sour unhappiness.

Across the room, Jayk and I look at each other, the memory sitting between us, and I swallow roughly.

“I can tap you out again, Jayk,” I tell him. “You don’t have to lead them anymore.”

Jayk’s eyes sink closed, and his head drops. I hear the long, slow release of his breath.

The brutal fucking relief.

I feel my own shoulders take the weight, but... that’s a relief, too. A different kind. This isn’t a weight I want anyone else to have to bear. Not for me.

My throat thick, I add seriously, “It has to be for the right reasons. You’ve led them well, Jayk. You’ve led me well. If you wanted it, I’d follow you to the end.”

When Jayk’s eyes open, they’re glassy.

It takes him a long minute to nod. “I know.”

He swallows, and I blink, looking to the side, my jaw clenching.

When he continues, it’s rough. “I don’t want it, Dom.

I don’t... need it. Not anymore.” He lifts one shoulder, but it’s more thoughtful than dismissive.

“I took it for the wrong reasons. It’s not where I want to be.

I’m glad I didn’t fuck it up, but...” He laughs then, but it’s raw.

Finally, he looks at me. “This job is fucked. The responsibility. The lives. Kasey, just...”

He clicks his pocketknife closed.

Kasey. Eden. Soren. All the lives crammed into Bristlebrook. The army on our doorstep, which streams past on the displays in the background, and the weight of it all increases on me. It’s a weight I’m used to, one I’m willing to take back, but...

Between Jasper’s sessions lately and our quiet talks after, between Eden and Beau’s rituals, Jayk stepping up, and even Lucky coaxing me into this stupid, ridiculous battle for time with Eden, I’ve been feeling... good.

Less like a heavy chess piece at the top of a board and more like a person. More like a person than I’ve ever felt before.

Loss pricks me, sharp with regret.

So “yeah,” is all I say, and Jayk’s gaze narrows on me as he sits back.

The room is close and quiet, but Jayk’s never been one afraid to break things.

“You don’t want it, either,” he says, and I shake my head.

I can put my fears to the side. I have enough other voices sitting with me now that I can put my father’s to the side. Voices I value far more than I ever did his.

My own, most of all.

I can do this. I have the skills—and the best team anyone could want.

“It’s not that. It’s just...” My lips kick up ruefully. “It’s lonely at the top. I’ll miss this.”

Jayk snorts, so rough and rude against the somber moment that my teeth click shut.

“Fuck you, too, then,” I mutter, pushing off the table. “Forget it. I’ll see you tomorr?—”

“You’re not ascending to the heavens, asshole. It’s just a job.”

I stop at the door, turning back, and Jayk scoffs.

He rubs his jaw as he stands, awkwardly gruff as he tries again.

“Look, your old man might have been hot shit, but I sure as fuck don’t plan on kissing your ass.

” He meets my eyes. “You don’t have to do it his way.

I didn’t. You don’t have to keep your distance to be the boss.

” He smirks, strolling up to the door. “Matter of fact, you’re a dick when you try. ”

Despite myself, I snort, and Jayk’s next smile is almost genuine.

We leave the surveillance room together, heading back toward the chaos and the gamut of responsibility. Both of us pause when we reach the inner balcony, looking over the ordered frenzy downstairs. Jayk leans on the balustrade.

There are rows and rows of wounded laid out on the floor. Filtering between them are the nurses, Deanna, and Beau, checking on the patients laid out in their makeshift beds.

Eden is standing to the side, pouring out cups of water and passing them off for delivery to groaning Reapers. Her hair is escaping the bun she’s pulled it into, and she’s moving too quickly. Her pace hasn’t dipped since I last saw her.

Beside me, Jayk sobers, watching her too.

Outside, all I can hear is the falling of rain.

“I’m too wired to sleep,” he finally mutters, straightening.

I don’t comment on the fact that he looks like a warmed-up corpse.

He hesitates, then turns to me, abruptly reminding me of how we stood on that field all those years ago.

“I have Bristlebrook for the rest of the night. You should go to bed.” Jayk glances back down at Eden, then he sighs and mutters, “Bentley’s brat is in my room. Eden needs somewhere to sleep, too.”

Surprise hits me like a lightning strike.

I fight to dismiss the implications. This is Jayk, after all.

But Jayk’s eyes lift to mine, and he presses a rough, awkward hand to my shoulder... then he walks away.

Tapping me out.