Page 42 of Dark Side of the Cloth

“You don’t owe me shit. You would’ve done the same for me.”

“I would’ve stayed there holding Perez and just let them have me. I was done, but you…” Dean took another sip of his beer.

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear any more of this sappy ass shit coming out of your puss mouth. I did what any soldier would’ve done, and you saved me multiple times. That’s what we do. Hooah!”

“Hooah,” Dean replied and decided to change the topic before Morry chose to beat him up for real. “You liking your new life and all this?” He pointed the beer bottle at the bikers that were still giving him side-eye.

“Yeah, they are good men. Maybe not as trustworthy as our unit, but I’ve carved out a good home and am building something great. Never hurts that I get to kill shitheads.”

“Yeah, that is a good part of the gig. Feels like we’re accomplishing something. Like all the hard work and training isn’t going to waste, like I belong again.” Dean glanced at Morry as shadows from the fire danced across her face—the light catching the scar that traced the side of her jaw. He remembered all too clearly how close she’d come to losing her head when shrapnel from a car explosion found them before they found cover.

“I hate that we took the heat for that op. That shit was not our faultno one should’ve known we were there. So many times, I have gone over what went wrong, and I keep coming up with the same answer.”

“We were sold out,” Dean finished for her.

“Exactly, and if I ever figure out who the fucker was, I’m going to rip off their tits or balls and feed their shit to them. I’m going to go all Wu-Tang Clan on their ass,” Morry practically growled.

Dean smirked as he pictured her doing just that, and not surprisingly, the images came with ease.

“So tell me about this Jeremy guy?”

“Not much to tell. I barely know him. He robbed a friend of mine, stole her money, and left her for dead.”

“Oh well, it makes sense now as to why you’d like him.”

“Fuck off.” Dean laughed, mostly cause it was true.

He had a strange habit of collecting odd personalities around him. They kinda fell out of the sky and then stuck like Velcro, bloody sticky rain that he dragged around. It was what made Yasmine so unique. She was different. She made him want more out of life than simply dishing out death like roast beef at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

“You took a real risk bringing him here. This close to your father’s reach—that takes balls. So tell me, why him?”

“In a way, I guess because I get him. I see a lot of me in him and what I could’ve ended up like if I had stayed. There is real potential behind that arrogant asshole. I’ve seen it in his eyes, and the remorse he felt for what he did, was real, which tells me he’s not completely lost, just fumbling in the dark. Besides, if he doesn’t get his shit sorted out… then kill him.”

“See, this is why you can’t have nice things.” Morry laughed, but Dean didn’t.

However, Morry was right. It was why he and Yasmine were destined to fail. What had he been thinking of pulling her into this life with him?

“That was a joke, man. You’re supposed to laugh.”

Dean swigged back the rest of his beer and stood. “I better get some shuteye if I’m rolling out at the ass crack of dawn. Thanks for taking Jeremy in. Shoot me the odd text with an update.”

“You got it,” Morry said.

He started toward the house he was staying in when Morry called out to him, “Oh and Dean. You’re welcome.”

He looked over his shoulder at her, but she wasn’t looking at him. That was her way of saying she never wanted to talk about her saving his life again. Smiling, he pushed open the door to the house and knew it would be the last time he saw Morry for a while. She was right. It was too dangerous to travel this close to his father and his territory.

Yasmine’s frustration with Dean was increasing with every minute that ticked away. He’d arrived at the hospital with the jerk that had hurt Mabel, saying that the guy wanted to apologize. She didn’t care how many times he apologized. She was never going to forgive him for what he did to Mabel. She almost lost the last person that loved her because of that creep. Then Dean proceeded to say that he was going to take the guy to rehab but would be back in a few days. Why he couldn’t drop him off at the closest one and be done with it, she didn’t understand. Mabel said it was because it was his nature to fix and protect.

Now, she could’ve forgiven him for wanting to help the guy and not returning to the hospital as he had promised. He was a priest, after all. But she was also very aware that Dean was back in town, and he hadn’t come to see her or call her or anything. It had been two weeks, and it was obvious he was ghosting her.

He had invited her to talk, and it had really seemed like so much more, but flaking out and disappearing on her again?

“That’s it, I’ve had enough of this.”

“What did you say, dear? I couldn’t hear you over the water running,” Mabel called out from the kitchen.

“Nothing, just mumbling to myself. I’ll be back to check on you later. I need to run an errand.”