I let my head fall back against the couch and stared at the opposite wall. “Because my dad wouldn’t hand her over peacefully.” And because he was probably counting on all-out war. But I didn’t want to mention that possibility to Jace just yet.

“What?” His eyes widened, and his hand clenched around the neck of the bottle.

“I heard him on the phone with Milo Mitchell, and Mitchell was clearly speaking on your stepfather’s behalf. He said that because of the allegations against my dad, and Kaci’s failing health, several of the council members voted to remove her from the ranch.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Yeah.” I took the bottle and tipped it back again. “Hardly matters now, though, does it?”

Jace didn’t answer, so I lifted the bottle one more time. I took three more swallows of tequila and knew I was done. I wanted to be numb, not drunk, and if I kept drinking so fast, even with my enhanced metabolic rate, I’d be risking impaired judgment.

But Jace took another long drink. “Why did he do it, Faythe?” he demanded, and I knew we were no longer talking about Calvin Malone. Jace put the bottle down and covered his eyes with one hand, his jaw trembling with the effort to hold back tears. If he cried, I’d begin all over again.

I started to tell him I didn’t know. But I did know. “Because that’s who he is.” Was, my brain insisted, but my heart rejected the internal edit. “Ethan lived larger than life, and it kind of makes sense that he’d die that way. Protecting someone else.”

But it did not make sense that he’d die at twenty-five years old.

Jace nodded but looked less than convinced. He stared into my eyes from inches away, his focus shifting from one to the other, as if he were searching for some great truth deep inside me. But whatever that truth was, I didn’t possess it, and finally he gave up looking. He blinked, and when his eyes opened again, they were full of tears, magnifying the rings of cobalt that made up his irises.

“What am I going to do without him?”

My heart broke, not just because of the words, but because of the earnest despair with which he spoke them.

I inhaled deeply, and when that didn’t help, I reached for the bottle again. One more wouldn’t hurt, and I couldn’t stand the pain in his eyes without it. So I took a long gulp. Then another, just for good measure.

It didn’t burn so much that time. Which was probably a bad sign.

“You’re going to do the same thing I’m going to do,” I said, trying to project strength I didn’t feel. “The same thing we’re all going to do. Today, you’re going to cry, and scream, and hit things if you need to. Let it all out now. Because soon we’re going to make them pay, and for that, we’ll need everyone in top form.”

Especially with so many of our men out looking for Marc. Our forces were split, and our numbers were dwindling faster than we could replace the missing members. And the truth was that we didn’t want to replace them. We wanted them all back. Including Marc. I wouldn’t be able to stand losing him so close to losing Ethan.

“Count on it.” Jace closed his eyes briefly, as if whatever he had to say next would be especially painful. “I’ll have to go after that. After we make Calvin pay.”

“What? Why?” I sat up too fast, and the entire room spun around me, my pulse racing in alarm. Would he really desert us when we needed him most? When we were already crippled by a double loss?

Jace frowned, like his logic should have been obvious. “I’m here because of Ethan.” He raised the bottle again, as if those very words hurt. “He’s more of a brother to me than my own brothers, and he was the only one who ever really gave a damn about me after my dad died and my mom married Calvin. He got your dad to take me on as an enforcer the day I turned eighteen, to get me away from Cal. But now Ethan’s gone, and it’s my stepfather’s fault. You think Greg’s still going to want me around? To remind him every day of how his son died?”

He gulped from the bottle again, and I was shocked to see that it was now more than half-gone. How much had he had? How much had I had?

“Okay, give me that.” I took the tequila, and he let me because he thought I was going to drink from it again. Instead, I reached back to set it on the nearest end table. But the table seemed to tilt away from me, and I almost missed.

“Listen to me, Jace,” I began, but by then his eyelids were heavy and his eyes were starting to look glazed. It was too late for much real listening on his part, and soon I might be past the point of rational speech. But I had to try.

“Look at me.” I held his chin, short stubble rough beneath my fingers, and made him meet my eyes. “Daddy’s not going to kick you out. He wouldn’t let you go if you tried to. And neither would I. We need you.” My own eyes filled with tears, my recent losses threatening to overwhelm me. “Please don’t go. I can’t handle losing you, too.”

Jace blinked and his expression shifted, his focus narrowing on me, as if everything else had ceased to exist. On his face, I saw only pain and need, and I dropped his chin, nearly scalded by the look in his eyes.

His good hand rose slowly, and when his fingers touched my cheek they were warm. So warm. “You’re all I have left.”

Oh, no. He would never have said that if he were sober. He might have thought it, but wouldn’t have vocalized.

But before I could respond—and I had no idea what to say—his hand slid back to cup my head, and he kissed me.