"Everything is fuzzy," David said, his voice still raspy even after the water.

"I felt the same way when I woke up at the hotel after Boyer drugged me. You'll be fine in a few minutes."

"What happened?" David's hand traveled slowly to his head.

"Headache?"

When he nodded, Remy took out a small packet with two pills in it. He handed it to David. "It will help with the headache."

"Thank you," he said, swallowing the pills with a long drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, noticing the blood for the first time.

"Sorry," Remy said. "I would've hosed you down, but there isn't too much water here. We'll get you cleaned up soon."

"What happened?" David asked again.

"Boyer injected you with a mixture of drugs and venom," Remy said, watching for a reaction. When there wasn't one, he continued. "The combination made you a bit crazy."

"Crazy?" David lifted his hand. "Whose blood is this?"

"Mainly yours. You were shot in each shoulder."

David glanced down as if expecting to see the bullets still there, sticking out like cartoon plugs.

"They went clean through," Remy said.

"I'll have matching scars like Greyson." David jumped slightly, as if he'd scared himself. "Greyson. Mya. Where's Mya? Is she okay?"

Remy smiled, relieved that David was finding his way out of the fog. He'd be himself in no time.

"Mya's fine. She's at home." At least Remy hoped she was still at home and okay. He'd had French deliver a message, hopefully putting any fears to rest without saying too much.

That seemed to settle David until he started again. "The baby. Is the baby okay?"

"He's fine."

"He? Mya had the baby? It's a boy? How long have I been out?"

"Slow down," Remy said with a sigh. "As far as I know, Mya hasn't had the baby yet. I just didn't want to call the baby an 'it.' We've been here for a little over two weeks."

"Oh," David said, leaning his head back against the cave wall, his brow pinched. "When can we leave?"

"As soon as you're up to it. But, we'll rest today so you can gather your thoughts and strength. You haven't eaten in weeks."

"I did." David frowned. "Someone forced some nasty swill down my throat. I couldn't see who it was. His face was so mutilated that I could only see his eyes."

"I fed you the nasty broth," Remy said. "You were having nightmares. Whoever you saw wasn't real."

"You fed me that s.h.i.t?"

"It kept you alive, didn't it?"

He rubbed his forehead. "Those were nightmares? They felt so real."

"You've been out flat the entire time."

"Tell me what happened. Start from the beginning."

"I don't know how you got involved," Remy said. "I went after Ava, and French intercepted. The next thing I know, you're on Boyer's table."

"I went to him," David said, staring listlessly at a point past Remy's shoulder. "I thought he could help you. We flew to the border. He turned on me." The bottle crackled in David's fist. "He's Venom."

"Was."

"He's dead?"

"By his own hand."

"It was him the entire time," David muttered. The bottle crumpled. "He did this to you too."

"I know."

"No, you don't. Not really."

"I know he injected me and I went berserk, just like you did." Remy clenched his jaw tight, wanting to tell David that he was sorry. That he didn't mean to shoot him all those years ago.

"G.o.d, if I had known then what I know now, I would've told you," David said. "But I didn't understand at the . . . Remy, what's wrong?"

Remy almost laughed. Where would he even begin? The truth. It was always a good place to start. "I shot everyone," Remy said, the words fell out as if they didn't mean anything more than a casual h.e.l.lo.

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"Boyer injected me again six years ago. I was the one that ma.s.sacred the platoon. I killed them all. I shot you."

David's brows furrowed. "No, you didn't."

"I did. Boyer tampered with the reports. It was my gun."

David shook his head. "No," he rasped, his voice straining.

"Drink some more," Remy said, motioning to the contorted bottle in David's lap. "You're going to lose your voice."

He rolled his eyes but drank some water anyway. "It wasn't you. I remember the shooter."

Remy stilled, hope and disbelief spreading. "Who was it?"

"A local." David shrugged, wincing at the pain in his shoulders. "He came in, gun already firing before he even knew where his targets were. He turned the gun on himself after."

"How did he get my gun?" Remy demanded. "Why wasn't this in the report?"

"The report would've been more useful as toilet paper," David said. "You took your gun with you to speak with Boyer, remember? He must have handed it over to the a.s.sa.s.sin."

Christ. It was all starting to make sense. Boyer had still blamed Remy for Tommy's death. It was all hateful revenge. Giving Remy's gun to an a.s.sa.s.sin, who would kill all those who Remy thought of as brothers, and the love of his life, would be another way to hurt Remy.

And Remy had been willing to go to jail for it.

And to hand Ava over to French.

"Now what's wrong?" David asked, leaning back, his head lolling to the side.

"I sent Ava away."

"Ava?" David perked, but only slightly. He was fading fast. "Was Ava here? Did she try to kill you again?"

Remy grimaced. "No, she was never the traitor. Boyer was." Remy huffed. "We need to start at the beginning, don't we? You've been sleeping too d.a.m.n long."

"I think I might again," David said, tipping over. "So, did you make up?"

"Yes. Then I sent her away thinking I was heading to jail." Remy stood and paced the small s.p.a.ce, furious with himself. "I have to find her."

"You will. Stop worrying."

"I sent her off. Dammit! I told her French loved her and that she should be with him."

"You're an a.s.s," David snorted. "But you still don't have to worry. French isn't in love with her."

"Yes, he is," Remy stated. "I know he is. Why else would he protect her this long? He loves her, and I packaged her up and sent her straight to him!" Remy growled an oath aimed at himself for being such a fool.

David smiled, his droopy eyes crinkling at the corners. "If you think French is in love with Ava then you're an even bigger a.s.s than I thought. He loves you. Always has. You were too blinded by Ava to notice anything but her. You are the reason he protected Ava. Bet that chafed his hide."

Stunned, Remy leaned against the wall. French loved him? Remy didn't even know how to process that information. However, it meant that he still had time to apologize to Ava. He just hoped she would listen to him.

David's snore echoed in the small cavern, bringing Remy back to his current problem. He had to get David home, and soon. Now that he seemed free of the injected concoction, it was safe to leave. Remy would give him until the following morning, but then they were moving out-even if Remy had to carry him.

It was time to go home. It was time to make amends.

Remy sighed. Ava was going to beat him with those d.a.m.n crutches.

Chapter 21.

It was more than a week later when Remy pulled into Greyson's driveway. He parked just as French called. Remy quickly answered. "It's about time you returned my call," Remy barked. "Where is she?"

"I a.s.sume you mean Ava." French's response was dry.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"You lost her?"

"She was never mine to lose," he clipped. "But you seem to be doing a fine job of it."

"I screwed up," Remy admitted. "Boyer got in my head and I . . . just tell me you can find her."

Silence.

"French?"

He sighed. "She doesn't want to be found. Ava quit her job and her phone is offline. It's why you haven't been able to locate her."

Ava went into hiding? If Remy hadn't been sitting in his car, he would've had to commandeer the nearest chair. This was his fault. He should've never sent her away. He should have held onto her. He should have told her it was him who loved her, not French.

Lots of "should haves."

But he messed up again.

Maybe it was better off this way. Maybe Ava would be better off without such a screw up. Maybe she would fall in love with someone who'd treat her like Remy should have.

"Please," Remy said. "Just do your best. You've known her longer. I don't even know where to look anymore." It was the truth, and it felt like he was trying to breathe through steel. So much of what he knew of Ava six years ago was no longer the same now. It was like trying to hunt for a roaming ghost. Ava left no prints to follow; she just vanished like murky grays.

"I might be able to help," French said. "But after this . . . I've done as much as I can for you. I can't do much more. We're done after this. I can't keep . . . it's time to start over."

"I understand."

A rough laugh escaped. "I don't think you do."

"Jeremy, I actually do," Remy said. "I've been thick skulled, but you already know that. David told me why you've looked out for Ava all these years. I had thought that . . . well, it doesn't matter."

"No, it doesn't matter."

"Thank you for watching her for me."

French cleared his throat. "Well, if you'd do a proper job of it, I wouldn't have to."

"I will," Remy promised. "Just find her for me. Just this one last time."

"I make no promises."

"I wouldn't hold you to them anyway."

Remy ended the call and took a deep breath, gathering strength to plaster on a smiling face that no one would believe.