It was one of the hardest days of my life. Terrifying, unexpected, and world-shifting. I’ll never be the man I was before that day. None of us will. We all grieve the losses we’ve suffered in the military, but some scars never heal. Rubin’s death is one of them, especially for Wild.
He went straight back to California, partly because he needed somewhere for the hospital to release him, but mostly, I think, to punish himself for not doing more.
It’s something we all feel.
But he hates it there. Hates being near his old man. Hates the city and the memories that come with it. Honestly, I think the only thing keeping him sane is Iron Shield. He takes more jobs away than Griff and I combined, spends all his time traveling, chasing danger, trying to save as many people as he can.
My eyes flick between the two of them, and I catch Griff’s gaze. He’s thinking the same things as me, it’s written all over his face. His jaw twitches, fists clenched, as he watches Wilder disappear before us.
“It’s not a bad idea,” I murmur, surprising myself. “Don’t know where you’ll live—” I break off, a chuckle slipping out as I circle my finger around, gesturing to my apartment. “Actually, rumor has it, a studio’s about to open up.”
Griff barks a laugh, and just like I hoped, it pulls Wilder back in. He grins, tilting his head side to side. “Nah. I’ll shack up with Mrs. W. Griff can take this shithole. He needs the space for all his beard products.”
“Fuck this cockroach motel.” Sarge scoffs, but he’s smiling. “I’ll move in with Kade.”
“Who’s homeless,” I deadpan. “And also, the one who actually needs a new place.”
“But are you?” Griff says. “Way I remember it, you’ve got a house waiting for you, Archer. Paid for, on land in your name.”
My heart stutters, skips, then tries to beat right out of my chest. “No.”
Undeterred, he cocks a brow. “No?”
“I can’t.” I swallow hard and shake my head.
“Why the hell not?” Wilder snaps, sharper than I’ve heard in a long time. Our eyes meet, and I’m honestly shocked at the anger there. “You have a home, Kade. A damn good one. A family who loves you—even when you’re a pain in the ass. They never stopped, no matter how much you try to push them away. And that house? You built it yourself, with your best friend at your side.”
“Wild—” I breathe, pulse racing.
He just shakes his head. “Nah, man. Enough’s enough. We all have demons.” He points right at me, voice dropping. “But you’ve got a little girl waiting on you. She has no one else. Get over the ugly in your soul and move forward. Stop punishing yourself for sins you didn’t commit.”
“You’re one to talk,” slips out before I can stop it.
He snorts. “I know. I’m just as fucked up as both of you, and I don’t have room to say shit. But the difference is, I’ve got no one waiting for me to heal. You do.” He looks at Griff. “Both of you do.”
“Not anymore,” Griffin grumbles, rolling his eyes. “That story’s dead and gone. Ain’t coming back.”
“It could,” Wild says softly. “If you wanted it to.”
“I don’t.” Griff’s cheeks flush, eyes a little bleary, but he blinks it away and deflates. “We’re getting off track—and we’re all way too sober for this shit. Fact is, Wild’s right. You’ve got a house ready and waiting, Kade. Stop pussy-footing around, and take it.”
“Adreamhouse,” Wilder emphasizes. “What is it? Four bedrooms?”
“Six.”
His eyes go wide. “Bigdreams then?”
“You know I’ve always wanted a big family.”
“Daddy Kade’s got a breeding kink,” he sing-songs. “Gonna knock some sweet cowgirl up, keep her barefoot and pregnant while he starts his own—” His brows pucker. “What’s the farmer version of a basketball team or band?”
Griff snorts. “A 4-H club.”
Reed nods, clearly cheered up at my expense. “Maybe that’s what you do for work.”
“4-H?” I cock a brow. “Pretty sure that’s volunteer.”
“Nope.” He cackles. “Start a daycare.”
