Fort Brothers

0009 — Edmund

Without another word, Isa turned and retreated to Bryan’s bedside

She dropped into the chair with careful dignity, lips pressed, jaw locked tight. I could see the small muscle in her cheek twitching as she ground her teeth.

Then she lifted a hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. That was when I saw it. The slight tremor running through her fingers.

Something heavy dropped in my chest and sat there. My lungs seemed to forget their job, forcing me to drag in a breath. I swallowed against the pressure I kept my expression carefully neutral and waited for it to pass.

***

Some men burned off frustration with a run. Others punched holes in walls. I apparently knocked back top-shelf scotch.

The liquor hit hard. A slow, brutal warmth unfurled through my chest, working its way outward as if it could dissolve the knot that had been sitting there all day.

Eddie 1.0 — the old Edmund. He solved problems one way: drink. Mad? Drink. Gutted? Drink. Thinking? Drink until you couldn’t.

A small, ugly piece of me wanted that right now.

The air got heavier. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I knew Isa was descending the staircase before my eyes confirmed it, which was stupid, but my body always reacted to her first..

“Mr. Edmund.”

Her voice was soft, almost hesitant.

She found me by the fireplace where we had sat together the night before. I'd come back there, except this time I did not have Isa for company. I had a bottle of Macallan instead.

A poor replacement, but at least it didn’t ask questions I couldn’t answer.

"I'll... I'll be on my way now." The words came out almost like she was asking permission to leave.

I glanced down at my watch. 8:17 PM. Time had moved strangely tonight — too fast and a lot had happened in those hours.

Too much.

I set the glass down harder than I needed to and rose from the chair, unfolding to my full six-foot-three frame. She looked small standing there, clutching the straps of her purse. Her eyes searched my face, and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Efficient, Isa, I’ll give you that. From Florence Nightingale to Special Agent in under five minutes.”

Because caretakers don’t ask questions like that. And I was done pretending she was just a nurse.

I c****d my head. Held her stare. "So what is the real business with Elgin Fort?"

“Nothing,” she said. To the floor. To the door. To God, maybe. Just not to me.

When someone won’t meet your eyes, they’re either lying… or about to leave you. Isa was doing both.

My eyes narrowed. "You expect me to buy that, Miss CNA?"

“I just—” She swallowed. Her throat worked. “Curiosity. Got the better of me. I asked about your family. Wanted to know if Bryan had… if it was just you.”

She didn’t let it die. "And your parents? Your mother… your fa—” Her eyes finally slipped away, like she’d pushed too far and felt it.

I fixed her with a hard stare trying to look straight through whatever mask she was wearing.

“Relentless, aren’t you? Father this, father that… you just keep digging.”

Her lips pursed. “You’re leaving me with no other choice, Edmund.”

"Get on your knees."

Color drained from her face. “W-what?” Her lips thinned. Her eyes cut to the door, then back to me. I watched the fight play out: fear pulling her toward escape, nerves rooting her to the step.

Good. She didn't like pushing me. I didn't like being pushed... Guess we were both miserable.

But I didn’t care. My fingers went to my red shirt. Undoing my buttons. I popped the first. Then the next. Then the next. I didn’t look away from her face while I did it.

This was my answer now. The only one she was getting. Isa wanted truth? She could take all of it.

Those pretty lips parted slightly, then pressed together again — soft, full, and so f*****g tempting.

But her mouth was only the beginning. I'd take far more than than that.