I go to the back of the clinic where Jack and a few men are busy with the bodies. The sight of the heap of dead people makes me sick to my core and I must swallow a few times. All these dead people and for what? To rescue a mate? To keep a drug cartel alive? It is so not worth it.
“How are you holding up, Jack?” I ask sympathetically. If I had to do this, I would have been sick for a decade.
“It is what it is,” Jack shrugs. “It’s still better than the night of Moon Stone’s attack. At least this time it was a fair fight and there are no children’s bodies.”
“Dammit, Jack, I’m sorry.” I feel terrible right now. Why didn’t I ask someone else to do this? Why did I have to ask Jack?
“Don’t be,” he smiles. “I’ve seen it before. I’d rather see it again than scare someone else’s mind. Someone l
