Page 72 of Oathbreaker

“Don’t bother calling in reinforcements,” I say dryly. “None of them want to talk to me.”

She chuckles. “Well, I can’t speak for all of them, but I know my husband does.”

Banks.

He’s a good man. Different from the others. He always was. Just a laid-back guy who only cared about two things—hockey and his brothers. Everything else was background noise to him.

Royal always had a dark, serious edge—the full-on rockstar long before he made it big. Focused and ambitious, there was no doubt he was going to be a star.

Dash was a tough guy, inside and out. Got in more fights than I did, which says a lot, and won every single one. He protected Briar like it was a full-time job, to the extent that even I was a little intimidated. I didn’t know how I would ever explain my feelings for her to him.

And there was Atlas. Closed-off, introverted, and academic. He was a hockey player like the rest of us, and could party hard on occasion, but his studies were important too. He had a plan and though I wasn’t around to see it come to fruition, I never doubted it would.

I guess I was an oddball too. I didn’t have a focus. I loved hockey, but I didn’t harbor any illusions about the NHL. The military was the next logical step, but I knew early on it wouldn’t be enough. There was an itch, this wild need for adventure and righting the wrongs of the world that I couldn’t share with my brothers.

Deep down, I suspect that plays a part in why it’s been so hard to win them over. They knew I would leave them—certainly not the way I did—but they resent the fact that I did it without giving anyone a head’s up.

“I’m going to say a penny won’t cover the thoughts you’re having right now.” Banks settles onto the bar stool next to mine.

“Probably not,” I acknowledge. “Who’s watching Maisie?”

“Mrs. X.”

“Who’s Mrs. X?”

“She’s our adopted grandma. She was Aspen’s neighbor before we moved in together, looked out for her. So now we’re returning the favor. She lives with us as an unofficial nanny, housekeeper, grandma, or whatever else is needed. Mostly, we just love her.”

I smile.

Of course they do.

That’s who they are—Banks and the others.

“She sounds great,” I say a little wistfully.

“You’ll meet her soon enough. We want to have you over to the house.”

“You got a guest room for me?”

He arches a brow. “Sure. Why? You need a place to stay?”

“Briar and I had a fight. She kicked me out, and I realized I have nowhere to go. No one to turn to.”

“And you came here.” He smiles. “You know this is all for you, right?”

I turn my head curiously. “This? What’s this?”

“The Sapphire Room.”

I’m confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we bought it so we would have a place to hang out and remember you. Briar came up with the name because people used to say your eyes looked like sapphires, so…The Sapphire Room. And there’s always a table reserved for you—” He swivels on his stool and points to the table where everyone was sitting the last time I was here.

For the first time, I notice the little placard that reads “Reserved for Colt.”

Now my eyes feel scratchy, and an all-too-familiar wave of guilt jolts through my system.

“Don’t.” Banks puts a hand on my arm when I drop my head. “You should have told us your plans but even if you had, we wouldn’t have known that your superiors lied about your death. That part isn’t on you.”