Worth the Fall (The McKinney Brothers, #1)(89)

“Yes, sir.”

“And what do you say?”

Matt’s CO answered the commander before he did. “McKinney is no longer active duty. Sir.”

Something the commander would already know, Matt thought.

Bill turned to him, the look in his eyes more of a friend than a boss. “You’re off the roster, McKinney. You’ve been replaced.”

Matt looked down at the map spread across the table. Hellhole was right. Matt knew because he’d been there, on one of his earliest missions. And that had turned into a clusterf*ck of major proportions. The terrain was a bitch, the underground tunnels a labyrinth. On-the-ground knowledge added a hell of a lot. It shaved off time that might give this kid a chance—at life and at avoiding a fate worse than death. The same sick f*cks had recently dragged a British soldier through the streets behind a truck before beheading his dead and mangled body.

No one wanted to leave this kid to the slaughter. They continued to toss around ideas, arguing about what could be done in the least amount of time with the least amount of men. “What about Jamison?” Holden asked. “If we had him and McKinney, that’s a solid squad.”

Matt knew Jamison. He’d been in their platoon for a short time, before moving to Echo platoon after they lost two guys last summer. And pulling something together this fast it would matter. Everything mattered.

Everyone in Matt’s squad knew where his head was. Bill, Decker, and Parker had all been to the house, met Abby and the kids. Hell, Decker had even changed a diaper.

But if he didn’t go, no one was going. At least not now, and now was the only time that counted.

Decker spoke up. “Jamison’s on leave. Headed west to visit family.”

“But has he left yet? He might be slowed down by the same weather keeping the guys on the hill.”

“Call him,” Holden said.

The men around the table continued to shoot ideas and arguments for and against the mission like automatic fire while Matt stood to the side taking in the facts. The crushing weight of a decision began to bear down on him.

They got word Jamison was in. He’d cancelled his trip and would be here in ten. Without looking up from the map, Matt felt every eye in the room on him.

His CO was against it, but Holden, the commander of Team 2, was on board. “It’s your call, Senior Chief.”

“Matt.” Doug shook his head. “You don’t have to do this. There’s still a chance for another team to go in.” But his friend’s eyes were anguished with the almost certain alternative.

The chance was slim. Other teams would for sure try, and Matt knew they could be successful. But if the kid was already dead, it wouldn’t matter.

The burn of guilt reared its ugly head for the first time in weeks. He’d come to peace with Teddy; he knew he was where he was meant to be, doing what he was meant to do. He knew one more thing for sure. If T were here, he’d already be out the door. Nothing would have stopped him. Maybe Tony was right about the guilt. Guilt for T dying. Guilt because Matt didn’t want to spend his life the way his friend had. If Matt could do this, if he could save a young man’s life the way Teddy would have…

What would Abby say? What would she want him to do? “I need to make a call.”

Commander Holden looked up from the call he was making, possibly to the president. “You’ve got two minutes.”

Matt stepped into the hallway and tapped her name on his phone’s favorites list. He listened to the ring in his ear. Come on.

Voice mail. Shit.

“Abby, it’s Matt. I need to talk to you. ASAP. Call me.”

Holden stuck his head out the door. “If you’re going, you go now. You’ll have to hit it before dawn. You can make your calls from the air.”

Matt moved down the hallway, mentally running the assault, planning the gear they’d need, and praying to God that he wasn’t losing one person to save another.





Chapter 37


For days Abby had cleaned the house. Top to bottom, corner to corner. Didn’t matter that it was new and didn’t need it. Every item in the house had a drawer, a box, or a shelf, and all of them were now labeled. There wasn’t a single thing left to unpack. Even the spices were lined up and alphabetized. But it was becoming more and more difficult to concentrate with her mind an emotional jumble.

Matt was gone. While his family sat in their living room, she’d answered the phone call that had broken her heart. He was gone, left—another mission. The room had spun and darkened, her ears ringing as she listened to him say over a disconnecting, broken-up line that he was sorry, that it would be quick. Two days. He’d be back. He was sorry. She’d dropped the phone, stared wordlessly at her guests.

There’d been no party.

She hadn’t told his family about the messages Matt had left before she’d talked to him that last time. The ones she’d listened to over and over just to hear his voice. The ones that made it clear whatever he’d done, wherever he’d gone, it hadn’t been an order. It had been a decision. But he’d seemed content, hadn’t he? He’d bought three new properties to flip, been excited at the possibilities. Had she only imagined the happiness in his eyes?

However much she wanted him back, would do anything to have him for one more minute, there was no question. The time had come when he’d had a choice, and he’d chosen to leave her.