Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 90276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
And I loved him even more for doing this. Giving me a piece of my brother I hadn’t seen.
“Your brother was good at what he did, Georgie. The best man on the team. And he loved it, too. ” I noticed a flicker of uneasiness in his eyes before it vanished and he grabbed a green bean and tossed it in his mouth. “We’d been in a covert situation for three fuckin’ days. Sitting in the desert sweating our asses off. No communication except hand signals. Taking a piss was the most movement we did. Our target was inside a bunker and had yet to make a move, but we had intel that he never stayed in one place for longer than five days. So we waited.” A flicker of a smile danced at his mouth. “Your brother, he fuckin’ loved it. It was like a challenge to him to see how far he could push himself. While the rest of the men were on edge and just wanted to get this shit done, Connor was relaxed. It didn’t even faze him.” I saw the flicker of something in his eyes again. “He was good at his job because he loved it so much.”
“Did you?”
Deck looked a little startled at the question as he placed his fork back down and looked at me. “Yeah, I did. It was my home, Georgie. They were my brothers. Now the guys at Unyielding Riot are.”
“You’re Unyielding and Connor is Riot. That’s why you named it that.”
He nodded.
“What about your real home? Brothers? Sisters?”
He shrugged. “Never had a real home. No family.” He paused before he said, “I killed my father.”
Holy fuck. I tried to keep the shock from my face, but I knew he must have seen my eyes widen with surprise because he was looking at me when he said it. Connor had said he’d gone to Juvie and then was on the streets before he joined the Army. Was that why?
“I was fifteen. He was beating up my mom like he always did. Fuck, it was a weekly thing in our house. He stopped hitting me when I hit him back the year before. He actually stopped beating both of us for a while after that. Then … he left us. Not sure why, but I didn’t care. He just disappeared one day and we didn’t see him for five months. My mother cried for weeks. Guess in a way she loved him; I mean, he did bring her presents all the time—after he beat her. Made me sick seeing him all sorry and shit while my mom’s face was black and blue and she couldn’t leave the house for weeks without a hat and sunglasses.”
I knew what was coming. A guy like that didn’t just walk away.
“He came back but this time with a gun. He shot her right between the eyes then kicked her over and over again. It was in the middle of the night. I woke to the shot and came running downstairs to see him beating on her dead, lifeless body.” Oh, God. I felt sick to my stomach and put my hand over my mouth. I hadn’t noticed I’d been crying until I felt a warm tear drip onto my hand.
Deck held out his hand. “Come here.”
I didn’t hesitate and took his hand, crawling onto his lap, settling my head on his shoulder. He tightened his arms around me and stroked my arm with the tips of his fingers.
“He was so focused on my mother he didn’t even notice me come down the stairs. I jumped him and we fell to the floor. Then I just started pounding with my fists. I don’t remember how long I did it, but when I finally stopped, he was dead.”
I knew sorry wasn’t enough or even appropriate. I was beginning to understand why Deck was so protective of me. He grew up trying to protect his mother and failed time and again. Even the last time he’d been too late.
“You were just a kid.”
Deck’s hand paused caressing my arm then started again. “You know, Connor kept a picture of you with him.” He was done talking about his past. “Kept it tucked in his wallet. He never said it, but he worried about you all the time.” He paused and looked directly at me. “I did, too.”
My breath hitched as our eyes locked.
“You ever read his journal, Georgie?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s his private thoughts and feels … I don’t know—wrong, I guess. But I used to sleep with it under my pillow. When the Robbie shit was happening, it was the one place I felt safe … in bed with my hand on his journal.”
Deck lowered his head and nodded.
“Deck.” I waited until he looked up. “It was you, too. It was the last piece I had of you.”