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He smiled up at me, reminding me so much of the kid who used to run around trying to do everything I did. “You’ve been occupied by a beautiful woman, that’s why.” He smirked and shrugged. “My attorneys officially filed the lawsuit today against the cops and the prosecutor. They fucking owe me, Max. They stole years from me and they knew, fucking knew, I didn’t do a damn thing.” He seethed, his blonde hair and golden looks darkened in anger. He was still angry and I didn’t fucking blame him. Hell, I was still angry for him. “All I can do now is fuck them the way they fucked me.” He smacked his fist on the table between us to punctuate his anger while I asked a passing waitress for two more beers.

“And two shots,” I told her with a smile before turning back to Tate. “I’m with you. Whatever you need.”

Tate nodded and sat silently browsing the menu until we both placed our orders—double fucking bacon cheeseburgers with steak fries—and he turned to me. “I need you to keep the club off my fucking back. I’ll deal with them when I’m ready, but right now I need to fight this shit. I have to, Max.”

“You got it. What else?” I didn’t bother telling him that both Cross and Savior had been asking about him and wondering where in the hell he’d been.

“Your girl invited me to dinner,” he said without preamble.

I froze as his words sank in and I felt an irrational anger rise up in me, but also shock. “She did what?”

Tate shrugged like it was no big deal. “Said in case I wanted to talk about something that wasn’t my time in prison and enjoy a good meal. She’s nice, bro. You could do a lot worse than her.” The waitress placed our burgers in front of us and Tate dug in like he hadn’t had a decent meal in, well six goddamn years.

I still didn’t like the idea of Jana inviting my brother to dinner. Maybe it was jealousy or maybe it was something else, something darker that burned in my gut, but I fucking hated that she went to my brother behind my back. That made me wonder if I could trust her. “You don’t even know her,” I argued pointlessly.

Tate frowned and looked at me like I’d grown two heads. “No, I don’t. Then again, no one else has offered to talk about shit other than the six years of my life that I lost. Or how I’m gonna ‘get paid’ and all that shit. Is it so wrong that one person on this fucking planet is treating me like a human instead of a statistic?” He was angry and I deserved it, but I was fucking angry too.

“No, guess not. Do what you want.”

Tate barked out a laugh and smiled. “You’re seriously jealous? You are fucked in the head, Max. She is doing this because of you, dumbass.”

That was bullshit and we both knew it. “Yeah? Tell me,

how does a dinner that doesn’t include me have any fucking thing to do with me?” I stared, waiting for an answer as he took bite after bite of his burger and fries, enjoying the meal the way a man fresh from prison could. “I’m important to you and she’s offering me something I need, because she thinks it would help you. That’s just my guess though since I’ve been locked up and I don’t have a woman who gives two shits about me. So hey, what the fuck do I know?” He stood, looking disgusted as hell as he shook his head. “Thanks for lunch. Catch you later, Max.” Tate walked away, leaving me sitting there like a damn fool.

How was I the bad guy when it was my fucking girl inviting another man to her home for dinner? This day had gone from bad to worse, and the fucking sun hadn’t even set yet.

***

I knew it wasn’t a dream but that didn’t mean I could do shit to stop it. I could still smell the scent of sex and Jana’s flowery perfume and knew it didn’t belong in the goddamn desert but the convoy was just moments away from shit going tits up and my heart raced as sweat beaded on my forehead, slid down my back. The sun was hot, burning fucking hot, at least one hundred and twenty degrees and no shade around for miles.

Then it happened, we hit the half-mile marker to our second to last destination where we would each undergo a lengthy debriefing about the mission. Then we would all be headed stateside for a nice long break. But instead of detailed questions and answers, we hit a fucking roadside bomb and then there was chaos as the vehicle flipped on its side, the loud explosion and sounds of crunching medal drowned out everything for long seconds as I struggled to see right in front of my eyes. As the smoke began to clear, along with my hearing, the sounds of several brothers screaming in pain came in loud and clear.

I crawled on my hands and knees behind the transport vehicle and aimed beyond the smoke, in the direction of incoming fire. I yelled but no words came out, and worse, no one answered. When my gun was empty, I reloaded and emptied it again, and again until I was out of ammo. The fucking shooting never stopped so I quickly crawled to a fallen brother, grabbing his weapon and ammo before taking cover behind the overturned vehicle again.

I knew what happened next. I’d had this dream enough times to know a pair of black feet would appear in the smoke, moving closer. But this time I wouldn’t just wake up, I’d fight the fucker. I had the ammo so I squeezed the trigger but, goddammit, it wasn’t hitting him so I dropped the gun and charged. I usually woke up at this point so I didn’t know what the fuck to do but wrap my hands around his neck and squeezed even though I couldn’t see his face. I could only feel his hands smacking and scratching at my arms.

“Max, please. Let go. It’s me. It’s Jana.”

I heard the voice and felt the small, delicate hands squeezing my arms, scratching at me but I couldn’t stop.

“Max! Let go, Max!” Fingernails sliced through my arm and I squeezed harder. “Max, please!”

It was that tearful plea that pulled me from a sleeping nightmare and into a real life, waking nightmare. “Jana.” My eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness and all I could see was her red, tear-stained face, big brown eyes filled with fear and sympathy. “Jana, shit. What the fuck?” I sat on top of her, my hands wrapped around the delicate slope of her neck. I was off her in an instant, chest heaving as horror ripped through me. “Shit. Goddammit! I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said softly, her voice shaky with tears. “Are you all right, Max?”

“I should be asking you that. Shit, Jana, I could’ve killed you.” And my own hands shook as that reality settled over me like hot, wet blanket. “Shit, I could have fucking killed you.”

“But you didn’t, Max. Is this still happening every night?” How could she sit there and look at me like that, brown eyes filled with concern for me, instead of herself.

It caused a squeezing sensation in my chest but it also pissed me off. “Don’t worry about me, Jana. Worry about yourself.”

She flinched at my words. “Don’t tell me what I can care or worry about, Max. Is this why you don’t stay the night?”

“What do you think?” I had my jeans on but unfastened, arms crossed as I looked at her.

“I think this is bullshit. Is this how you plan to live your life, Max?” The plea in her voice nearly undid me, but I had to stay strong. No matter what.

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