“Damn, it, D, just do it!”
Jake closed his eyes. He knew his friend was only trying to help, and he felt like a total ass for snapping at Derek like that. But Jake needed this. More than he’d ever needed anything ever before.
To his credit, Derek didn’t argue or try to placate him. Instead, he said, “I’m on it. Give me an hour. I should be able to find out enough by then.”
Without another word—mainly because he was precariously close to losing his shit—Jake ended the call and tossed the phone onto the cushion beside him. Then, he began to pray.
Jake wasn’t an overly religious man. Before every job, he’d send up a silent prayer, asking God to keep his team safe, and he always thanked Him when He did.
Sitting on his couch now, though—elbows on his knees and his head hung low—Jake did more than just pray. He begged.
He begged God to make this all just a terrible dream. Pleaded with Him to make her be okay. Jake promised anything and everything he could think of, and swore if she were somehow still alive, he’d make things right with her, once and for all.
He'd come clean about every fucking lie he’d ever told her. His job. His feelings toward her. The entire fucked up situation surrounding her brother’s death...all of it.
This continued on until the ringing of his phone startled him once more. Glancing at his watch, Jake was surprised to see how much time had passed. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering.
“McQueen.” Damn, he sounded miserable, even to himself.
“Hey, boss. Sorry it took so long. Had to wait for a few people to call me back. You know how shit like this goes. Tryin’ to get info from government contacts and hack into certain agency servers isn’t always a walk in the park. Especially when we’re talkin’ about an incident that happened in an entirely different country. Not to mention, the authorities in Madagascar aren’t real cooperative on a good day, and they don’t leave much of an electronic trail, which is most likely done intentionally. So, finding someone willin’ to talk about Americans dyin’ on their soil? You practically have to pry their fuckin’ lips open for any kind of—”
“Just tell me,” Jake whispered the order, his shattered heart crumbling into a million more pieces.
An odd sensation began to spread throughout his body, like thousands of needles pricking his skin from the inside out. He felt sick to his soul because D was stalling, which meant whatever he’d found wasn't good. After clearing his throat, Derek gave Jake the dreaded news.
“Everything I’ve turned up sounds legit. Accordin’ to their ME’s report, the bodies weren’t identifiable due to the, uh...damage.” D paused. “Boss, are you sure you want to hear all of this?”
Derek was hands-down the smartest man Jake knew, but he was also one of the most emotional. The man wore his heart on his sleeve, so knowing he was tearing Jake’s world apart couldn’t be easy for him.
“Go on.”
There was another short pause before Derek began again. “Also, and this is total bullshit in my opinion, the assholes went ahead and finished crematin’ what was left of the volunteers’ remains. They claimed it was for easier transport back to their families.”
Derek clearly didn’t believe that line any more than Jake did. The authorities there didn’t give a shit about the victims or their families. They were simply covering their asses.
“So”—D went on—“thanks to whoever gave that particular order, there’s no actual DNA proof.” Derek was quick to add, “But, the count of males and females, the sizes of the initial remains...they all match up, Jake. Add to that the fact that Olivia’s personal items were found at the scene and no one has seen or heard from her since the attack and,” Derek paused again, drawing in a deep breath. “I’m really sorry, man.”
Jake didn’t say anything. He just sat there, gripping the phone so hard he was surprised he hadn’t crushed the damn thing. His other hand was in a tight fist, his clipped fingernails digging into his palm, pinching the callused skin there.
The logical part of Jake’s brain knew he’d been wasting D’s time, not to mention, giving in to a hope he had no business feeling. Denial was an evil bitch, though. Once she got her claws in you, it was hard as fuck to pull them out.
“Boss? You still there?”
“Yeah.”
Another pause and then, “You gonna to be okay?”
No. “Yeah.”
“You, uh...you need anything?”
Only her. Jake shook his head, so out of it he actually forgot for a second that Derek couldn’t see him.
“You know, I don’t have anything goin’ on,” Derek kept trying. “I could come over and sit with you or somethin’. We could talk, or go get Hill and blow some shit up, or”—the guy exhaled loudly—“hell, I don’t know, Jake. Whatever you want to...”
“Thanks, D,” Jake quickly cut him off. “I appreciate you looking into this for me. I’ll talk to you later.”
Ending the call before his friend could say anything more, Jake tossed the phone aside and lifted his gaze back up to his T.V. The news had moved on to another story, but he only saw Olivia’s face. Could only hear the sweet sound of her laughter. He felt nothing but the warmth of her smile and, for the first time in his life, Jake McQueen was lost.
He led a team of specially trained operatives who routinely faced some of the world's most violent and deadly criminals. He’d served multiple tours overseas, trudging through swamps and sand and blood, all in the name of God and country.
Jake was the guy who fought for others’ rights and freedoms, and had dedicated his life to defending those unable to defend themselves. Sitting here now, though, that same guy—the one who always maintained total emotional control—was completely. Fucking. Lost.
In an instant, Jake’s entire world had tilted on its
