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“Goddamn! That was a hell of a fucking show, Wilson,” one of my teammates said, his way of congratulating me for more kills to add to my record.
Once the dust had settled, I peered out of my hiding place and froze. “Fuck! Fuck! How the hell did …” I ensured my path was clear, then I hurried to the body, my finger ready to pull the trigger again at any sign of danger. I removed the face covering, and my entire world crashed down, wrecking me in the process. Dropping my gun onto the dusty road, I rolled the small figure over and started CPR.
“Let it go, Wilson. We don’t have time,” Captain Ryan said from behind me. He tugged on my arm, but once he realized I was determined to save …
My body jerked backward, my commander suddenly nose-to-nose with me. “Soldier, you did your job. Now do your fucking job again, pick up your weapon, and walk away. That’s an order!”
My gaze landed on the still figure, a pool of blood accumulating beneath her. My ears rang with additional shots, kicking my ass into gear. With one last look at the lifeless girl, I swore that I would protect women and children even if it meant my own life. This was the second time I’d failed, but the first time I’d pulled the trigger. Never. Fucking. Again.
PTSD was a real fucking bitch.
Sweat trickled down the side of my head as I finally jerked myself out of the gut-wrenching memory. My breaths came in short gasps, the realization of what I had to do sucker-punching me in the face.
“Son of a bitch!” I smacked the steering wheel with the palm of my hand and sent a sting of pain up my arm, but I didn’t give a shit. What I was about to do would hurt a hell of a lot more, but if I wanted to be able to move forward, I had to close the door on the past. And in order to do that, I needed Pierce’s help.
14
Zayne
Nearly three hours later, Jeffrey Stafford met me at the airport in Portland, Oregon.
“Good to see you, man.” I bumped fists with the retired security guard who was now Pierce’s right-hand guy. Jeffrey ran a smooth operation and brought a lot of experience and expertise to the table from the years that he’d worked with Pierce’s father, something Pierce lost when his father passed away.
“How’s Spokane?” Jeffrey offered me a wide smile as we climbed into the company car.
“We’re starting my favorite season,” I said sarcastically, buckling my seatbelt.
“Summer?” Jeffrey started to wind through the airport and headed to Pierce and Sutton’s penthouse at the edge of downtown.
“Fire season. Fucking hate it.”
“I’m glad we don’t normally have that in this part of Oregon. The summer here is pretty tame. You should ask Pierce to give you some assignments down here. I could always use some more guys in the area.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. I’m actually here on personal business today.” I massaged the back of my neck, my chest tightening with stress.
“I wasn’t sure. Pierce just said to pick you up, give you a company Mercedes, then drive you to the airport when you were ready to fly back.” Jeffrey flipped the turn signal on, the softtick tickfilling the silence in the car.
“I have a day or two off from a job, so I figured it was as good a time as any to take care of a few things.”Like I could take care of this in a few hours.
“Let me know what you need or if you’ll be staying at the penthouse. The guest room is ready if you want it.” Jeffrey glanced at me before he merged onto the four-lane highway.
“Thanks. I’ll keep you posted. I’m not sure where today will lead me.”
* * *
Vehicles whizzedpast me as I drove. As soon as Jeffrey and I had arrived at the penthouse, he tossed me the keys to another company Mercedes. Yeah, my boss had a thing. Not interested in wasting time, I hopped in, thanked Jeffrey, and headed out.
Since no one else was in the car with me, I jammed to my tunes. Although I didn’t have many opportunities to listen to a lot of music, I loved it when I could. My fingers tapped the steering wheel to “First Class” by Jack Harlow.
I intentionally relaxed my shoulders and neck, trying to get some relief from the knots of tension already thickening with my decision. It had been a long-ass time since I’d made an effort to visit the old neighborhood. Once I was out of Portland and in the military, I rarely returned. Too many dark memories still had the power to break me. I’d worked too fucking hard to keep my shit together. It wasn’t worth the risk of visiting ... until now. The flashbacks and PTSD would kill me if I didn’t, and I was no good to Giselle or anyone else if I was a goddamn mess.
Taking the exit, I turned left, then meandered down a side street. My heart pounded so hard in my ears that I felt it in my veins. I fought the urge to turn around but forced myself to keep driving.
The bungalow-style homes had been upgraded since I’d left, but then again, it had been almost ten years. After I joined the army, my parents moved to the East Coast and Pop died not long after. Even though I tried, Mom and I weren’t that close, but I still called her every few months to check in. She also knew that if there was an emergency, I would hop on the first plane to her.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered as I finally found what I was looking for. Glancing in the rearview and side mirrors, I made sure there weren’t any cars approaching before I pulled into a driveway.
Turning off the car, I stared at the overgrown yard and dilapidated house with black scorch marks scarring the wood. Half of the roof was gone, and the other half was in the process of falling in. It was a far cry from the well-cared-for home with three bedrooms, two baths, and a remodeled kitchen that I remembered from high school.What in the fuck happened?
