Then he’d spent a lot of time doing whatever he wanted to do to feel good despite knowing they wouldn’t, chase whatever highs life offered to drown out that need, convince himself he didn’t give a fuck what they thought.

And when his brother took what Nick wanted, namely Anya, Nick had pulled some lame-ass bullshit in order to try to tear them apart. Bullshit that, if it was Knight who did it to him, he wouldn’t give a fuck two days ago the woman Knight loved had a hole blown into her head. He would not be standing in his sweet crib telling Knight he was proud of him.

But the fact remained it felt good, his brother giving him that. It felt good because it was from Knight.

And it felt good because he knew Knight was right to be proud.

Last, it felt good because he knew she died proud of her man.

Even with all that, he just muttered, “Thanks.”

Knight took his hand away. “Watch a movie. Read a book. Try to get some rest.”

He wouldn’t be doing any of that. He still nodded.

Knight studied him a second then nodded too and walked out of the room, saying before closing the door behind him, “See you in the morning.”

Nick turned his attention back to the lights of Denver.

Within moments, the city went out of focus and all Nick could see was his reflection in the glass. He could also feel the sweat trickling down his spine, pooling around his balls, the agony radiating through his muscles as he struggled against the restraints.

He lifted his hands and looked down, seeing at his wrists the scabs, deep scratches and pus-colored broken skin of cuts so deep they had not yet begun to heal.

He’d used those hands. For once in his life, he’d used those hands and his head and his gut and his strength and his courage and everything he had in him to do right.

Not for himself.

Not for his dad.

Not for his mom.

Not for Knight.

For her.

The mission had only marginally succeeded.

But she was gone.

* * * * *

Three Weeks Later

“I’m out.”

Nick said this firmly, looking right into FBI Special Agent Eric Turner’s eyes.

“I get that,” Turner replied quietly.

Nick didn’t want to give him what he had to give to him next. He didn’t used to be that guy. He didn’t used to be the guy who found it in him to do the right thing.

But the man he was now, the man she taught him to be, he gave it to him.

“You were right. I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her.”