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“Okay, moving on… He’s got five years in the Army as a Ranger. A couple of tours on record, more than a few redacted—”
“Redacted?” I frown.
“Usually means black ops stuff.”
Holy shit.
“Looks like he was in an elite unit, so that makes sense. Joined at seventeen, after…” Bill frowns as he glances up at me. “Look, I’m just gonna ask again. Are yousureyou want to go down this rabbit hole?”
He’s looking at my ring when he says it.
“Just tell me,” I blurt.
“You’re the boss,” he mutters. “Okay… Your husband enlisted because it was that or prison.”
My heart drops.
“Prison for what?”
“Homicide.”
Something cold settles over me. I mean, I know Castle’s killed. Ofcoursehe has, and I know my brothers have too. But atseventeen?
“It gets worse, I’m afraid,” Bill sighs. “The victim was his own father.”
My throat closes around the bile rising up in it as I stare at the horrible file in Bill’s hands.
“W-why?” I croak.
He shrugs. “Unclear. He never made an official statement when he was booked. Looks like his mother was a raging drunk, though, and would only testifyagainstyour husband.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“She actually pushed for jail time.”
My heart breaks a little, and I wince.
“You go back further than that, well, it’s not a very pretty picture. It doesn’t look like there was a great home life. Twelve domestic disturbance calls in about five years. Seems like Robert worked muscle for Declan Kildare, meanwhile Cynthia had three DUIs and lost her license.” He makes a face. “The sister, Kelly, died young, I’m afraid.”
“What happened?” I breathe in a croaked voice.
“The report I read said she fell off the roof of an apartment building.”
A stabbing feeling rips into my chest. If my heart was breaking a little before for the man I’m married to, it’s shattering now. I mean holyfuck. With that sort of history, it’s astonishing he’s capable of smiling at all.
“Anyway,” Bill shrugs, closing the folder and passing it my way, “this is all yours. Feel free to give me a call if you need anything else.”
I nod quietly, staring at the folder as I take the envelope of cash out of my bag and discreetly pass it to him. When he’s gone, I quietly thumb through Castle’s broken, scorched past, feeling my heart sink and go cold.
I feel like a complete piece of shit for doing this—for prying into his secrets and his past, knowing full well there’s a reason he doesn’t talk about it. Because obviously, he wants to forget it, and leave it buried where it lies. I can see why, now.
But still, I want to know. Ihaveto know.
My eyes land on an address, the one that appears on all the domestic disturbance reports, as well as the heartbreaking one about Castle’s sister’s death.
I stand, drop some money on the table for my coffee, pick up the file folder, and walk out the door, still numb.
* * *
