Doherty finally left. The chapel door banged shut, and a beat of brutal silence lingered.
Then Folk laughed, with humour not death. “That’s cheered me right up.”
“What has? Knowing that idiot has been boshing acid since we turfed him? Fucking drones. What a cunt.”
“Cam, it’s not a drone.”
“Eh?”
“Think about it. It’d have to be the size of a chopper to shake the ground, and who do you know with one of those who might enjoy making Doherty cry?”
Without the old git in my line of sight, firing the rage in my belly, I was feeling kinda slow. It took me a second. Then, for the second time in a week, Viktor had me doubled over laughing and the pretty bastard wasn’t even here. “That motherfucker. Is that a thing? Chasing hogs with birds?”
Folk stretched his legs out, amusement still warming his face. “If Viktor served in the naval unit I think he did, he can probably land a Chinook on a potato without breaking a sweat, so this would be nothing to him.”
“He’s that slick?”
“I wouldn’t want him chasing me.”
“Lucky he’s our friend then, eh?”
Folk shrugged, grinning a bit. “He’s all right.”
“I like him.”
“Good.”
“Is it?”
Folk gave me his full attention, his gaze less haunted than it had been. “You only have to see how he loves that dog to know what kind of man he is.”
“That’s what convinced you?”
“It’s what remindedme, before I knew about him and Ranger. But sometimes, when things happen so far away from where I am now, it’s hard to assimilate them.” Folk paused, thinking. “It’s like trying to merge a cartoon with a black-and-white film.”
Made sense. Sometimes I forgot Folk had known Viktor’s face longer than any of us. Because I didn’t like picturing him at war on the other side of the world. Because I loved him.
Did I love Viktor?
Probably.
I took a breath to put that to Folk, craving the wisdom of someone far cleverer than me while Saint and Alexei were gone, but a commotion in the yard drove me to my feet and to the door.
Cold air hit me. Aware of Folk at my back, I surged into the yard, ready to throw hands, the violence I’d festered for Doherty raw and unused in my veins.
Please still be here so I can break your fucking face.
I got my wish.
Doherty remained. But Lida had beaten me to the punch, aggression raging in every sharp bark, hackles up as she cornered him, Viktor watching on from a distance, his stance casual enough that I knew this hadn’t happened by accident.
“Call your fucking dog off!” Doherty hit a wall, his rasping scream ringing out across a yard where he used to have friends. A veritable cohort of cunts for backup.
Now, though, brothers turned away, loyal tome, not a mythical fucking narrative from the past.
And Viktor?
His bright gaze held a threat Doherty would never understand, and I was here for it.