The Art of You

“I’m good. Just need a second.” I threw my hand up in the air without looking back, waving Constantine away so he’d get off my ass and stop following me.

“You’ll have to take that second with me, then.” Constantine came up alongside me, easily outpacing me on the beach since my body was still not 100% from the accident. Ray-Bans back on, he asked, “Me or Izzy? Take your pick.”

“You’re not my type, man,” I tossed out. “And I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone.”

Boiling point officially reached. That heart-to-heart with my old man—in front of everyone else, no less—had sent me over the edge.

Nothing quite like Bella hearing my father call me a fuckboy mere hours after Constantine found me in bed with her under their parents’ roof to really kick off my Monday morning. Throw in the fact we’d now have to find a way to intervene with a CIA operation while not winding up a casualty or behind bars.

So, yeah, I needed to cool off. Alone.

“Izzy was going to chase after you.”

I ignored him, walking as if I had places to be. And I did. Anywhere but here.

“I figured you’d be in a foul mood, and I didn’t want you yelling at her,” he went on, and I abruptly stopped and faced him. We were only inches away from where the Atlantic ate away at the sand.

“So, you volunteered as tribute, huh?” I may have been angry, but not with him. “I’d never raise my voice to her, and you know that. Insulted you’d even think such a thing.”

“You’re right.” Despite the sun glaring in his eyes, he removed the shades he’d only just put on. His shoulders, which always seemed to be holding the weight of the world, dropped. “Your father’s wrong about you. About his accusations against us, too.”

I grunted. “I can’t do this now.”

“Which is precisely why it’s the exact time you need to have this conversation.” He pointed off in the direction of anywhere-but-here I’d been planning to escape to. “I know you. You’re going to get lost in that big fucking head of yours. Overthink shit. Because that’s what you do. You’ll come up with a hundred reasons why you don’t deserve X, Y, or fucking Z.” He hooked his shades at the front of his black shirt, continuing with his mission to get in my head only to pull me from it. “You’re not like your father. Are we clear?”

I dove my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants, listening to him without really allowing myself to absorb his message. I wasn’t ready yet. Maybe I never would be.

“I hate your father. Always have. And based on what I just overheard back there, I always will.” That was the first time he’d told me point-blank what I’d assumed he’d always felt about my old man. “He was MIA most of your life. Right up until he needed you for his own gain. He forced your mom to leave her home in Texas and move you two up to New York, even though they weren’t married anymore, just so he didn’t look like the absentee father he was while running for political office. He abandoned his family, and⁠—”

“I abandoned mine, too,” I damn near snarled at him, lifting my hand from my pocket and setting a fist over my heart. “Echo Team was my family. They were my brothers, and I wasn’t there for them. And I’m not just talking about the op, I’m talking about the aftermath.”

And just like that, I was back in the sandbox of Afghanistan instead of on the beach in the States.

“I should’ve fought harder to stay in their lives. I tried to, but clearly not hard enough.” I leaned closer to him. “I walked away. Just like my father did. And then I thought joining the Bureau would somehow make amends, but no . . .”

My words trailed off, picked up in the morning breeze and carried to the place where dreams and hopes died.

“Maybe my father is right,” I finally went on. “And that sleeping giant is the past I’ve never really put behind me. Because that operation is clearly connected to this somehow, and Alfie might be involved, too.”

“I can’t tell you what to think or how to feel about what happened that day in Afghanistan, but I’d have done the same thing as you. I’d have sat that mission out. So, go ahead, call me a coward, too.”

My eyes fell between us to the sand. “Bullshit. You’d have compartmentalized and focused on the three feet in front of you. You’d have gone out on the op, and you know it.”

“You ever stop and think maybe you weren’t there that day because you weren’t meant to die? That your father’s email came at the right time, because without it you’d have been on the long gun and a sniper would’ve killed you instead?” His words hushed the chaos in my mind, drawing my attention back to him. “Does your life matter more than his? No, of course not. He was someone’s son, too. But maybe it just wasn’t your time, brother. Maybe you didn’t die because you’re needed here.”

I opened my mouth to object, but when he narrowed his eyes on me, it was clear he wasn’t done with his lecture.

“You have another family aside from Echo Team. Don’t you dare act like we’re not also yours. You’ve always had our backs. Suited up and had our six at every fucking turn, right down to taking out Bianca’s killer. Both times. I don’t want to hear this bullshit that you’re someone who retreats in the face of danger. You are not like your father.” He tossed a hand toward his parents’ house. “You have a woman in there who is so crazy in love with you, it’s now obvious to me she’s been dating all these assholes to waste time until the right one figures his shit out.”

The hand still hovering over my chest fell to my side as I stared at him, trying to calculate what sounded like two plus two equating to five. Because no way did he say that.

“And in case I’m not making myself clear, you’re him.”

Shock hit me across the face again when he spelled it out for me.

“Listen.” He dialed down his tone a bit while lifting his eyes to the cloudless sky. “We all have a past. Mistakes we’ve made. I have to look at myself in the mirror every day and know one of my sisters didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell me about the man she loved. And if she had, maybe it wouldn’t have cost Bianca her life.” He slowly lowered his face to meet my eyes, pupils dilating. “I’ve been making the same mistakes with Izzy. She’s afraid to be honest with me, and that’s on me. But I refuse to lose another sister.”

“What the hell are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying don’t let me stand in the way of you being with Izzy.”

His tone was as clear as his words, and yet, I still wasn’t sure if I’d heard him correctly.

“There are no guarantees it’ll work out between you two. But I know if it doesn’t, it’d never be because you cheated. Or because you put hands on my sister. So, if you split, I won’t have to kill you, and it won’t fuck up our friendship. I’m telling you this now because I didn’t realize I’ve been making the same mistakes I did with Bianca with Izzy. Not until this weekend.” He closed his eyes, letting go of a deep breath. “I also didn’t know the shit you’ve been carrying for fifteen years, which is undoubtedly the real reason you’ve stayed single all this time. That changes things.” Eyes open again, he stated, “Knowing what I do now, do you really think there’s anyone else I’d rather have as my brother-in-law than my best friend?”

I was grateful when he held up his hand as a request not to answer. I wasn’t even sure what the hell to say.

“Don’t use me, or your past, and especially not your father’s fuckery, as an excuse to keep you from being with the woman you clearly love.”

From “can’t love you back” yesterday to “clearly love” today. Was he right? Was that what this aching pain in my chest was? Love?

“Figure it out, and do it quickly. Looks like we’ll have a new mission to handle with these terrorists, and I don’t need your head out of the game because you’re worried about losing what’s right in front of you.” He removed his shades from his shirt and put them on, then turned toward the house. “And do me one more favor,” he added, shooting me a quick look over his shoulder, “lock the fucking door next time.”