“Fate isn’t fair. But the pain gets easier.”
Brett turned to face his protectee, although he wasn’t on duty at that point. He doubted he would ever get back to that position. That thought stopped him cold. Had he already decided he was no longer being a bodyguard? Or was it that he was going to leave completely?
“How are you?”
Brett blinked back to the present, leaving his tumultuous thoughts for another time. “I’ve been better.”
“Come on. We have lunch in the suite, and I doubt you’ve eaten anything all day.” Christian’s voice brooked no argument, so Brett followed along, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything. Just the thought of food set his insides churning.
They entered Christian and Oscar’s suite—the one they use when they were at Windsor Castle—and Brett glanced at Oscar who sat on the sofa with the two dogs nestled around him. He held his little dinosaur while staring avidly at the TV screen.
“Oscar,” Christian said, and the little looked over at him, cracked a small smile, and then caught Brett’s gaze and…his expression could only be described as heartbroken. In that moment, Brett realised it wasn’t just him who had lost someone, it was everyone who had anything to do with him.
Brett opened his arms, and Oscar jumped up from the sofa and ran to him, clinging to him as he sobbed. He could barely do anything but hold on. He was scared. Scared that if he let go of his tight control, he would fall and smash into a million pieces, and who would that help? No one. So, while his heart broke at the sobs wracking Oscar’s body, he stayed silent and strong.
But a small piece of him wished he didn’t have to.
It took a little while but eventually Oscar pulled back, wiping at his eyes. “I’m sorry, Brett. It’s so unfair.”
“It truly is.”
“Come and sit down. I’ll grab the food,” Christian said.
Brett settled into a chair, relaxing a little when Onyx and Oreo came over to say hi, but not enough to let his guard down. Christian always saw too much, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep hold of everything if he started asking probing questions. But all Christian did was hand them each a plate of food and sit beside Oscar with his own. No words. No looks. Nothing.
And it was that nothing that tore him apart.
His chest tightened until he could barely breathe, and he pressed his palm to his sternum, rubbing as if that would ease it. His throat closed up, his eyes burned, and his jaw ached something fierce. Tears welled up and, before he could stop them, spilled over and ran down his cheeks. The air left his lungs as he tried to hold it together and not make a sound, but as he inhaled, the air wheezed through his throat and out came a sob. And then another one. And then another.
He dropped his forehead to his knees, covering the back of his head with his arms. It cut down his ability to take a full breath, but he didn’t care. He smothered his face into his thighs, bringing his elbows in tight to the side of his face. All he could see was the image of Felix as the gun went off, dropping to the floor. Dead. He’d never ever get rid of that picture. It would stay with him for the rest of his life.
He had no idea how long he stayed in that position before his lungs and eyeballs protested the abuse. His breathing was still choppy, but he managed to sit upright, his eyes widening when he saw Christian and Oscar sitting on either side of him, arms around his back.
He swallowed hard. “Sorry,” he rasped.
“Never apologise for that,” Oscar said.
Brett swallowed again, inhaling and exhaling before saying, “He’s dead.”
Christian nodded slowly. “He is, but we will find them, and they will pay.”
Brett exhaled fully again, finally able to take full breaths despite the ache in his heart and body. “I loved him.” He voiced what he had never believed he would ever be able to.
“I know you did. And he loved you.” Christian rested his hand on Brett’s nape. “That doesn’t change because he’s not here.”
Brett scrubbed his face. “I honestly thought it would be me that got taken. I fit the bill slightly better than Felix did.” He sighed. “I never gave him what he needed.” His mind flicked back to their stolen moments in the chapel before the wedding.
“You were always there for him, no matter what,” Oscar said, tears in his voice. “Even when he had his harebrained schemes. You had his back.”
Brett huffed a laugh. “Except when it mattered.”
“It always mattered. No one is infallible,” Christian said. “But wewillfind them. We will.”
Brett took that reassuring tone and locked it away in his heart and mind, needing it as a reminder for when things got hard. And as he sat in the presence of the two men he could easily call his friends, he allowed himself a few moments to fully grieve what he could’ve had and what was now lost.
****
Chapter 15