Jack Dresden heaved his duffel bag over one shoulder and tried to ignore the pain shooting up his side at the motion. Holding back a grimace, he trotted up the six steps leading to a very familiar front door. One he hadn’t stood in front of in ten years. The green garland and clear lights around the window casements and up the pillars reminded him that Christmas wasn’t even a week past.  He couldn’t brush off the stab of guilt he felt when surrounded by the reminders of how he’d neglected his relationship with his family..

He took a deep breath, causing his battered ribs to scream in protest. He welcomed the physical pain. Anything to remind him why he was here. There would be time for regrets later. After. Pressing the doorbell with a finger he refused to acknowledge was shaking, he figured he’d better get it over with.

As if those inside had been waiting, which knowing his mother, they  had, the door flew open before he had time to take his finger from the little white button. The sudden motion caused the wreath to give a precarious against the wooden panel, threatening to fall free of the hook holding it in place.

“Finally!” With that single word, Jack was enveloped in a hug that carried with it the scent of lavender, apples and home. The arms around him made his ribs scream out, but he couldn’t have pulled away if he’d wanted to.

“Good to see you, Mom.” He stepped back to look at the woman before him. She was smaller than he remembered. Her hair was styled in her usual way—some complicated twist he would never understand how she managed to do—but there were new lines across her face. The sight of them made guilt burn in his gut. He shouldn’t have stayed away so long.

For the past decade he’d told himself it was the job keeping him from Devotion, Georgia. But while being an operator in the elite Delta Force kept him busy, he could have made the time to visit. The fact was, he had been avoiding his hometown. Life in Devotion, Georgia hadn’t exactly given him fond memories. When he’d gotten out for basic training at eighteen, he’d left the small town in the dust of the bus tires. Sure, he’d come home after the first few months at his mother’s insistence. But once he’d been recruited by Delta three years into his service, he’d barely written home. First, it had been the grueling training, then the classified missions. Deep down, he knew it was because he was still running away.

“Your father is in the living room.” Jack hated seeing that weariness when she mentioned his father. They’d seldom seen eye to eye and it was this caustic relationship that had pushed Jack to enlist. Ten years later, he still felt the need to stand taller in his father’s presence and prove how much of a man he had become.

A retired Army colonel, William Dresden was not a man to trifle with. As an only child, Jack had received the brunt of his father’s drive for perfection. He’d always known the Army was his future—he’d just never dreamed it would be his salvation. His Delta brothers held him up and kept him strong. The seven men he served with had become the family he’d never thought he would have. He would trust any one of them to have his back and he knew that trust was reciprocated. They accepted him completely and only measured him by the kind of soldier he was. Which was one of the best.

“How is he?” Despite their differences, when Jack had read of his father’s diagnosis of prostate cancer, his stomach had turned to lead. The man was still his father, after all. It didn’t matter that he would never know who Jack truly was.

“He has his bad days.” A weak smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Seeing you home should lift his spirits.” Jack doubted that. “Let’s get you inside and settled.”

Entering his childhood home brought back so many memories Jack almost stumbled under their weight. So much of his life had happened inside the walls of the restored antebellum mansion. The good and the bad came rushing at him. His father telling him he would never make a good officer because he had gotten a B on a math test. Prom pictures taken on the grand staircase. Everything hit him like a ton of bricks.

Leaning to set his bag on the chair by the door, he let out a hiss of pain. One look at the concern etched on his mother’s face and he knew he’d done a piss-poor job hiding it.

“What happened?”

“Just one of the perils of the job. I’m fine.” He gave her a tight smile and she nodded. He knew she understood, that when it came to missions, information was need-to-know at best, highly classified more often than not. Growing up, Jack had seen his mother take the little information a spouse was given in stride. It didn’t stop the worry from creeping into her eyes.

If she had seen him a few weeks ago she wouldn’t have been so quick to accept his explanation. He had been a mess when his team had pulled him out of that stinking hut in Kuwait. The men holding him captive had done a number on him, and he was glad the only lasting physical effects were a few broken ribs and a myriad of bruises across his torso. And his fucked-up brain, but he wasn’t going to burden his mother with that.

“Come say hello to your father, then you can take your things upstairs. Everything’s where it was when you left.”

The man who greeted him was not the same imposing presence Jack remembered from his youth. He had the same close-cropped hair and neatly pressed shirt. It was the gray at his temples and the pallor of his skin that tipped Jack off to the toll his disease was taking. He didn’t have the sunken-in look of someone whose cancer had progressed. He just seemed less, somehow.

“Sir.” Jack extended his hand for his old man to shake. His grip was as strong as ever and Jack felt himself relax. Maybe things weren’t as bad as his mother’s last letter had made them sound.

“Good to see you, son.” William released his hand and resumed watching the news. That was it. No heartfelt embrace. No sentimental words. Jack fought back a sigh, wondering why he’d thought things would be different.

“All right, off you go.” His mother ushered him out of the room. “You’ve got to be tired and might as well rest up before dinner.”

“Mom, you really don’t have to go to all this trouble.” He tried to reason with her as he heaved his bag and followed her up the stairs.

His mother stopped just outside his childhood bedroom and placed her hands on her hips. “It’s not every day my wayward son comes home from his secret missions. Let an old woman fuss over her only child.”

Jack felt his face flush with the impact of her words. He knew he should have come home more often, but it had just been too hard. There was so much of his past that he wanted to leave dead and buried. Coming back here, where everything still seemed so alive, was a form of torture he’d had no training to withstand.

Her features softened and she placed a palm to his cheek. “I am so glad you’re here, we both are. I know your father has an odd way of showing it, but not having you around has been hard on him too. We’re just happy to see you home.” She backed away with a secretive smile. “In fact, when you called saying you would be coming, I put together a little party.”

Jack’s stomach bottomed out. “A party?” He really didn’t like the sound of that.

“Oh, just a few old friends. The Dobsins, Maureen from the beauty shop.”

If the guest list stuck to his parents’ acquaintances, he just might be able to make it through.

“Harry and Louise Franks, oh, and that Dillon Bluff you always hung around with.”

“You invited Dillon?” Jack was pretty sure he was white as a sheet.

“Sure.” She tensed for a moment, like she was holding her breath. “I think Stacy will be here as well. Dillon said she was out of town until last night but he was going to make sure to bring the party up when he picked her up from the airport. Anyway, lots to do before everyone arrives tomorrow night.”

Jack tried to swallow past the dryness in his throat. This was  what he had been avoiding for ten years. He had no idea how he was going to face his old high-school flame and his one-time best friend. He hadn’t exactly ended things well with either of them. In fact, he was unsure why they would even accept an invitation from his mother, unless it was out of politeness. Dillon was a product of the South, and because of that he would have done the gentlemanly thing. Jack’s only hope was Stacy refusing to attend.

“Jack, honey, you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I think I just need some fresh air. It was a long flight and then the drive from the airport.”

“Sure.” She didn’t look too convinced but didn’t push. Jack wasn’t sure he would be able to hold back if she persisted. The idea of facing Dillon and Stacy tomorrow unnerved him. That never happened.

* * * *

The humid Georgia weather pulled against his broken ribs with each breath as he walked aimlessly down Main Street. It felt good to be moving, despite the pain. When his team had been picked for the mission to Kuwait, he couldn’t have been more excited. They had spent too much time stateside.

It was supposed to have been an in-and-out mission. Their target had been the head of a terrorist unit suspected of gathering WMDs.

Jack had waited in the desert sun all day for his shot. When the target had finally showed, he’d felt that familiar tingle at the base of his spine when aligning the enemy in his crosshairs. He didn’t like the idea of taking life, but if it saved millions from the evil one man was capable of, he would do whatever it took.

Just before he’d pulled the trigger, the hairs on the back of his neck had stood on end, tickling his scalp, warning him too late of the danger at his back. The days that had followed had been a blur of pain and questioning at the fists of the best lackeys terrorist scum could buy. It had taken his team five days to safely infiltrate and eliminate the cell that had been holding him in a dirty hut. Barely conscious, he had never been so happy to hear the report of gunfire.

Jack hadn’t broken under the pressure, so why was he now ready to spill his deepest secrets at the prospect of facing Dillon and Stacy—two people who’d played pivotal roles in his life?

“Man up, Dresden.” He ran a hand over his head, wincing as he realized he hadn’t touched it once while in recovery. While Delta weren’t held to the same strict standards as regular Army, Jack had always liked to keep his hair cut as tight as possible. He should take the time to get it trimmed. “If you can stare a murderer of thousands in the eyes without flinching, you can handle a night with old friends.” That was the problem. Dillon and Stacy Bluff were so much more than old friends.

“Jack? Jack Dresden, is that really you?” The familiar lilting tones froze him in place. Could the day get any worse? “Oh my gosh, it is you.”

Suddenly arms were slung around his neck and Jack had no choice but to return the embrace or let the tiny woman fall to the ground. Jack lowered her to her feet before he pulled away as politely as possible. Stacy Bluff looked just as he remembered. Her bright blue eyes sparkled up at him. A fringe of blonde bangs brushed her brows, accentuating her heart-shaped face.

“Look at you,” she marveled. Her gaze running over his body made him shift his weight. “Army obviously does a body good. You had a good thing going before you joined up, but good glory, Jack, those Delta boys created a gift to womankind when they enlisted you!”

Jack felt his face heat and cleared his throat. “Thanks, Stacy. Uh…you look great too.” What happened to him being calm, cool and collected?

“Dillon and I were just talking about you.” She smiled up at him. “I’m looking forward to the party tomorrow night.”

Jack tried to return the grin, but he was afraid he didn’t quite achieve the desired expression. Stacy, perceptive as ever, noticed, and her lips fell.

“Don’t worry, Jack, everything that happened is in the past. Can’t we all move on?” She searched his eyes. “I know I’ve gotten past our youthful mistakes. Dillon has too if that’s what’s got you worried. He doesn’t blame you for anything.”

Jack seriously doubted it. When he’d called things off with Stacy, Dillon had showed up at his front door, threats on his lips and fists itching for a fight. Jack had given it to him. It had been the least he could do for the man who had been his best friend since the Bluff family had moved to town freshman year. The next day, Jack had gone off to basic training with a black eye and an ache in his soul he’d thought would never heal.

“Anyway, I was just on my way to meet Dillon at Clancy’s for lunch and here you are.” The smile was back on her face. That was what he loved best about Stacy. She never let anything keep her down. And he did love her, even then, just not the way she deserved to be loved. “You should join us.”

She didn’t wait for him to reply, just pulled him down the sidewalk in the direction of the diner they used to spend every weekend in. He tried to focus on her chatter, but the only thing he could think about was the fact that he was about to see the very man he had been avoiding for ten damn years.

“Dillon just got back in town a few weeks ago.” The mention of the man’s name pulled Jack’s attention to the tiny blonde attached to his arm. “He was in Tanzania or Turkey”—she waved a negligent hand—"somewhere working on a piece for some big magazine about a guerrilla army.”

Jack tried to tame his twitching lips. Like a lot of Southern belles, Stacy was blissfully ignorant. She lived inside her own little world.

The smile died fast when they crossed the threshold and his gaze immediately snagged on Dillon. He sat in a booth at the back of the long narrow building, nose buried in a pile of photo prints, shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal the vibrant ink that danced across his forearms.

Jack felt an overwhelming sense of homecoming that nearly brought him to his knees. This man had been the light in his very dark, very claustrophobic life. Before Dillon, there had only been his father’s expectations to live up to. After Dillon, only the stark realization that his life was one meaningless motion after  another. Delta and his team had filled in some of that emptiness, but nothing close to the way Dillon had.

The man must have felt Jack’s stare, because Jack found himself drowning in the liquid brown depths he’d hoped never to see looking his way again. Dillon removed his vintage-inspired glasses and sat them on the photos in front of him. His gaze shot between Jack and Stacy, and Jack couldn’t make out the emotion filling his eyes.

“Look who I ran into on the way in,” Stacy, completely unaware of the tension building between Jack and her brother, blurted out before pulling him closer to the booth. Jack wanted to dig his heels in and make up some excuse. Anything to get out of coming face to face with his biggest regret.

Before he knew what was happening, Jack was standing beside the table. Looking down at the only person he’d ever loved.