Текст книги "Beautiful Storm"

Автор книги: Megan Isaacs

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

“YOU FUCKED-UP BASTARD.” The cold words come from a voice I recognise.

There’s an enormous crash followed by shouting, but I’m unable to hear anything being said. A loud buzz in my ears is the only thing my brain can focus on. I crawl onto my hands and knees, knowing I need to get away. Strong arms wrap around me and lift me from the floor. My legs instantly flail.

“No. No. Get your fucking hands off me,” I scream, while scratching at the arms pinning me against them.

“Shh, sweetheart. It’s only me. Shh.” Once the calmness of Alex’s voice registers, it saps my last shred of strength, and I weaken in his arms. “We’re getting you out of here.”

As he carries me, I’m oblivious of where I am but not where I’m going. All I know is Alex is taking me away from the place I feared living in for a lifetime. Angry and hurt, the tears start to fall. One by one they stream down my face. All the while his words of comfort try to ease the pain.

His hands no longer rub reassuring circles over my back. Dazed, I barely feel him place me down and bandage my hands and knees. He leans over and straps me in the car. The only thing making me aware of where I am is the vibration beneath me.

I sniffle up my nose and wipe the mess from under it. “Can you take me to Noah?” My words are hopeful even though I know it’s the last place I should be. He wouldn’t want me either. When I glance at Alex, his jaw flexes and he gives a firm shake of his head.

“Not a good idea, sweetheart. Noah would kill him.”

A soulless laugh escapes me. “Not anymore.”

He flicks a glance at me, then back to the road, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. I’m not sure what he’s thinking but then he gives a sigh.

“I’ve known men like Noah before. The live hard, play harder, type.” A smile quirks on the side of his lips. “You stopped that dead in its tracks. I was always waiting for him to fuck up with you, but…” His fingers stop tapping and grip the steering wheel. “I promise you, whatever you said or did wasn’t enough to stop him loving you.”

“How would you know?” I snap.

The half-hearted smile turns into a full one. “Oh, I know.”

I don’t deserve the faintest hope telling Noah I never loved him wouldn’t affect the way he feels about me. I want him to despise me, especially now. I can’t ever run the risk of him finding out what I’m hiding from him. The fate would be too much, for both him and the little life I have in me. I’m just thankful my shoulder and knees took the brunt of Mac’s wrath. At least I know my baby is safe. I decide it’s best to change the subject.

“Where are we going?”

The smile fades, and from his profile I can tell he’s scrunching his eyebrows.

“First, I’m taking you to a friend to get your injuries sorted out. Then I’m taking you away from here.” His voice softens. “I know he threatened to kill Noah and your baby. I know what he demanded of you. The security guard Mac fired showed me earlier. He wasn’t sure what to do with the information. Why does the bastard always pull shit when I’m not on shift?” The anger in his voice overwhelms me. Alex is usually so soft-spoken.

I’m thankful James told Alex. He shouldn’t have been on shift. He had two days off. “Why would it even matter to you?”

“You really think I’m heartless, don’t you?”

Mac has made me distrust my judgement. I turn away from him and stare out the side window. “No.” How could I ever think that?

Panic rises in me. “We need to go back.” I break into a cold sweat. I never want to be near Mac again.

“What? Why?” He alternates his gaze between me and the road ahead.

“I need my bag,” I answer. My voice is small. I know it’s a foolish request, but it holds both my credit cards and my phone. Without it, I have no ability to pay for anything. And more importantly, the phone contains photos of Noah. I don’t want to be without those.

His face relaxes. “I got it.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. Several tours will do that to you.”

The conversation dies. Alex looks focused on driving, apart from the intermittent clench of his jaw. The silence forces my mind to deal with the earlier attack. I try and distance myself from it, but the images rerun over and over, blurred and fuzzy, but no less painful. Renewed tears start to fall.

The car stops and warm arms wrap around me. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Held tight, I sob into his chest and let the pain out. It’s better out anyway; keeping it in will do me more harm. When my chest stops heaving, he releases me.

“We need to get out of the car now, okay?”

I sit up and try and rearrange my dishevelled dress, but the way my hands are bandaged stops me. My breathing stutters and I fight to regain my composure, refusing to let any more tears fall over that bastard.

Alex gets out, comes around to my side, and opens the door for me.

“Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

He gives me his hand and helps me to my feet. My knees burn and are stiff, pain shoots through my legs.

“You sure?”

Mac has taken enough from me; he won’t take anymore. I nod, fight through the pain, and walk, aided by Alex, towards a little cottage with a painted red door. “Where are we?” I glance around trying to figure it out. But I’d paid no attention on the drive.

“My mate Jase’s house.”

“Oh, okay. Is he a doctor?”

Alex bursts out laughing, a real belly laugh, and shakes his head. “No, he’s not. But he does know his shit.”

As we reach the door, a man opens it. His smile is kind, but when he turns to Alex it disappears. “Do you know what you’re doing?” he asks his friend.

Alex sighs. “Can’t this wait until we’re inside at least?”

Jase opens the door wider and beckons us in. “You need to phone him. He’s going apeshit,” he mutters as we follow him into his home. “Why’d you turn your phone off?”

“Why do you think?”

“Sending a text then going silent was gonna send him over the edge.” He takes us through into his cosy lounge. “Make yourself at home.” He gestures towards a battered sofa.

I collapse onto it, my energy level at an all-time low. Both Alex and Jase remain standing and continue speaking.

“Yeah, well it was for good reason. Would you take care of Liz’s injuries?”

Jase’s expression darkens. “Did you take care of the bastard?”

“As much as I could for now.”

This appears to appease him. He turns to me and his expression lightens. “Let’s have a look at you. See what we need to fix you up. I’ll just get my bag.” He turns and walks out.

Alex turns to me. “I need to make a call.” My breaths labour. “I’ll only be in the kitchen.” He walks over to me and cups my hands in his. “Breathe. I promise Jase won’t hurt you.”

I search his eyes and see his conviction. The pressure in my chest releases a little. “Okay,” I reply quietly.

He smiles at me, squeezes my forearm, then leaves. His voice rumbles in from the other room. I can’t hear what’s being said, but the security of the sound of his deep tone calms me.

Jase returns with a backpack and settles at my feet. “Okay, let’s take a look at you.”

My dress is draped over my knees and he touches the hem to lift it. “No.” I push his hands away. Clenching my legs together, I bend and wrap my arms around my knees. The whole movement hurts like hell.

There’s a clatter as Jase falls backwards and Alex rushes in, phone in hand. “What the fuck?”

Jase holds his hands up in the air. “Mate, I just went to lift her dress over her knees.”

“Liz?” Alex waits for my confirmation.

Heat rises, overtaking my whole body. “I… um…” I take a deep breath and rush the words out. “I have no underwear on.”

Both men visibly relax. Jase gets to his feet and leaves the room.

“I’m sorry,” I call out after him. I’m so ashamed.

Alex smiles at me. “No need to be. It’s not your fault.”

But it is my fault. I got caught out. Now I’m facing the consequences. “I think someone wants you.” I point to his phone. I can hear a voice shouting on the other end.

He lifts the phone to his ear and speaks. “Give me a sec… Yeah, everything’s okay, just hold on.”

Jase returns and holds out his hand to me. “Here. I know they won’t fit right, but it’s something.” He shrugs.

I look at what he’s holding out.

Both men glance at each other, and Alex smiles at me. “Everything okay now?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good. I need to finish this call and I’ll be right back.”

Jase’s face flushes. “I, er, I’ll just go with him for a minute.” He follows Alex out.

I open up the neatly folded boxer briefs, spreading them over my knees. My heart misses a beat. The kindness of these two men helps to erase the horrors from earlier. But neither of them can help erase the scar of Noah on my heart. An image of him walking in, half naked, flashes in my mind. His dirty words, his gentle touch, his deep love. I let myself bask in the memory before it’s replaced with dark, haunted eyes as he walked away. That’s a scar I wouldn’t want erased.

I drag myself from my thoughts and struggle to pull on Jase’s underwear. They’re a loose fit, but cover up the area needed. It’s hard for me to ignore the bruises forming on my thighs, but I try.

There’s a tap on the door and Jase pokes his head around. “Am I safe to come in?”

His question provokes a small smile from me, until my cheek stings. “It’s your home.”

Jase strides in and again kneels at my feet. “Okay, you ready to do this?”

After I give him my consent, he rummages in his bag and pulls out dressings, spray plaster, and a folded pouch, amongst other things.

He goes about unwrapping Alex’s makeshift dressings. His brows pinch when he removes the final wrap, and his lips form into a thin line.

“Right. First things first. Have you had any painkillers?”

“No. We haven’t really had time.”

“Let’s get that sorted then. I’m going to have to work on you for a while.” He rubs his forehead with his fingertips. “There’s a fair amount of glass in these wounds.”

Again he leaves the room but comes back with a glass of water and a couple of tablets in his hand.

“Don’t worry, they’re just over the counter painkillers, but I think you’ll need them to take the edge off.”

I take them from him and swallow both down with the water. If Alex trusts Jase, that’s enough for me. And since the adrenaline has seeped from my system, the pain in both my hands and knees has increased tenfold.

He makes small talk for twenty minutes while he waits for the painkillers to take effect. I find him kind-hearted, even if he is a little rough around the edges, but equally there’s a darkness about him. When he’s happy that enough time has passed, he undoes the pouch to reveal a series of medical implements. Choosing a pair of tweezers, he sets about removing the shards from my knees. Alex enters the room and sits down opposite me.

“How’d it go?” Jase asks Alex, without looking at him.

“About as good as you’d expect. He was pretty pissed, but he understands.” I wonder who they’re referring to but have no time to ask.

“Yeah, I bet. What are you going to do now?”

“I’ve pulled in some favours and arranged a house for us. Also, I think it’s best we change Liz’s identity too. I’m not sure how far Mac would go to find her.”

Jase nods and continues to clean and redress my cuts. He’s gentle, and every time I take a sharp breath he halts and inspects my face before he carries on.

“Who’s he?” I finally ask and wince as Jase wraps gauze around my palm a little too tight.

“My boss,” Alex replies.

“Mac?” My voice rises.

He shakes his head and gives me a small smile. “No, sweetheart. He was never my boss. I work for Pegasus. The firm that runs your… runs his internal security.”

Jase finishes up, wipes his hands down his jeans, then stands. “There, all done.”

There must be more I can say to him but all that comes out is, “Thank you.”

“Anything for —” he begins.

“Time for us to go,” Alex cuts in, and gives Jase a hard stare.

I’d wonder if there’s a problem between them, but Jase seems unaffected and grabs his backpack off the floor. He sorts through it and gives us some more painkillers and spare dressings. “Replace these in a few days. Try not to get the others wet either.”

Jase gives me an awkward hug. The men shake hands and give each other one of those back-smacking man hugs.

Alex turns back to Jase as he leads us to the front door. “Thanks for everything, mate.”

“No worries… He doesn’t know, does he?”

Alex shakes his head and Jase’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t reply. I’m too tired to wonder what they’re talking about.

When we get to the car Alex helps me into my seat, then hops in the driver’s side. “Do those feel better?” He gestures towards my new bandages.

“I guess so. The painkillers worked pretty well.” Or maybe it’s the numbness in my heart spreading throughout my body.

He reaches into the back and then hands me my bag. “So, are you ready?”

I have nothing left here, or anywhere. “Yes.”

When Alex pulls away from the curb, my heart constricts. I want to tell him to turn around, to take me to Noah. But this is for the best, it’s the only option. Instead, I find my phone, scroll through the pictures of him, of us, and let a single tear fall.

There was never a choice for me to make.

Seven Months Later

“HEY, BUD. HOW’S it going?” Bear shouts in my ear as his large hand slaps my shoulder.

The music is loud as fuck and the atmosphere is buzzing. The usual for a Friday night in Khan’s. I glance around me at the vast array of scantily clad women and fix him with a wolfish grin. “Never better, mate. You?”

It’s a bold-faced lie. My life is a fucked-up mess since I walked away from Lizzie. Bear knows it too. He’s picked me out of the gutter more times than I even fucking remember. I see, rather than hear him, laugh as his eyes wander the surrounding area.

“Same, man. Same,” he replies with his gaze fixed on some bird’s arse.

He turns his attention back my way and observes me with his expert stare. His shoulders drop a little and the humour leaves his face. I know I’ve failed to convince him.

Catching the eye of the barmaid, I gesture for another two beers. It wasn’t difficult, as she’s been eyeing me since I arrived. She places them down in front of us and I hand her the cash. She blatantly pouts when I don’t bother to engage her further.

I smirk into my pint as a leggy brunette, who’s gyrating to the shit being played by the DJ, catches my attention. My interest evaporates the instant a muscular bloke snakes his arm in a possessive manner around her waist, a clear sign of ownership. Having learnt my fucking lesson, I refuse to get involved with any woman who’s obviously taken. I won’t wreck someone’s relationship for ten or fifteen minutes of riding my cock. That’s my one redeeming quality, I suppose.

Propped with my back against the bar, I glance over at Bear. He’s already got his hands on a pretty blonde, who looks tiny against his huge frame. He’s a massive bloke, he’s also one nasty bastard when rubbed the wrong way. I should know, we’ve had each other’s backs for years.

Bear nudges my shoulder, and I glare at him. He knows I hate being pushed, yet he does it anyway. The urge to pummel my fist into my best friend’s face is fierce and irrational. His knowing green eyes stare at me in amusement as he indicates with his head towards the blonde waiting on him a few feet behind.

The anger dissipates as I raise an eyebrow at him. It’s got to be a record. He’s only been here for ten minutes at most. He discreetly taps his watch and mouths ‘twenty minutes’ at me. I shake my head in disbelief and grin at him, then give him a quick nod, and I turn my attention to the dance floor and admire the show.

The female species amaze me. As open and upfront as I am about my intentions, they always think they’ll be the one to change me. Make me see what I’m missing out on. But I’ve been there, and done that. The only thing I’m missing out on is Lizzie. That fucking woman was my everything. The ones trying to suck my cock, who would let me take them in any way I’d like? They’re void fillers, and never anything more.

Every night when I leave the club, without fail, I can bury myself deep in a willing pussy if I want. My favourite time killers are few and far between. The ones who would let me take them against the wall in the back alley. They aren’t stupid and wouldn’t expect flowers or romance. All they want is an intense orgasm whilst being fucked hard, and that’s it. Which is fucking good, because that’s all I’ll be capable of. My heart? I don’t fucking have one. What I do have is the world’s worst case of fucking blue balls. I need to get laid.

Lost in appreciation of the view before me and my thoughts, I jump when a hand curls its way up my chest. Looking down, I follow it back along its arm to the fuckable body, and attractive face attached to it. Blue eyes stare back at me.

“Hi. I’m Ella.” She smiles a seductive smile, and flutters her eyelashes in the way that lets me know, without a shadow of doubt, her intentions. Maybe she’s the remedy?

“Nice name.” I don’t give a fuck what her name is, but I force my trademark ‘I’m up for anything if you are’ smile on my face. Her hands roam my torso and it feels good. Not like the touch of Lizzie but…

Fuck.

Why can’t I get her out of my head?

“I’m Noah,” I add, tilting my head to the side and smirking wider.

“I know.” She looks up at me through her lashes. “Do you want to dance with me?”

Pain grips my chest and I’m suffocating in my own skin. Seven fucking months she’s been gone. Every day is like a waking nightmare. I’m submerged in revolving days of agony and alcohol, now accompanied by the old need to bury myself in random women. I can’t keep going like this. I glance down at the hand again and imagine a different one. And as fucked-up as it is in this moment, I need to move on.

“Sure, love.”

She grabs my hand and leads me straight past the dance floor and outside, into the back alley.

It’s not long before her legs are wrapped around my waist. She’s a woman on my level, and knows what she wants. And I can give her what she expects. My reputation precedes me; it’s why she’s here. Fair-sized tits display themselves when I tug down her dress to free them. I cup one in my right hand. It’s soft, but her skin touching my fingers has no effect on my desire. My jeans are unbuttoned just enough to release my cock, but I’m only half ready to ram home.

The dim street light of the alley glows enough to make its presence as she stares back at me, playfully biting her lower lip. “You feel huge,” she compliments, as she reaches down between us to stroke my cock. She kisses my neck, her teeth nibbling and sucking my flesh while she moans against my skin. What are supposed to be her teasing sounds do fuck all for me, and I release her legs and back her into the wall.

“I want you to suck me.” I reach for her head, guiding her down. All too eager to please me, she squats down and claws at my jeans.

I’ve got to give it to her. Those shoes look like they have four-inch heels. The fact that she’s barely wobbling is impressive. “Steady, I’m not going anywhere.” I chuckle as I rake my fingers through her wavy hair.

She’s a woman on a mission. She frees my cock with ease, momentarily blowing on it, and slides it across her warm lips. My hard-on is only half-mast, but all it needs is a few good pulls from her hungry mouth and I can be balls-deep in her pussy. She sucks on my head before pulling my cock into her greedy mouth, her slick, damp lips sliding halfway down the length of me. Fiercely, she bobs her head, taking me to the back of her throat, and gags before her lips get anywhere near my balls.

I think that will deter her determination, but she lets go, pops her head up, eye-fucking the shit out of me as shiny spit runs down her chin before dipping back down and wrapping her full lips around the tip. The scene before me should be making me hard as a rock, and in desperation I ram myself into her mouth, willing the bastard to get its fucking shit together.

Closing my eyes, I let my mind wander to places it shouldn’t be. Places I’m trying to forget, not relive in Technicolour. Blood rushes to where I need it and I harden fully in the warm mouth and firm grip surrounding my cock. Relief sweeps through me that he decided to play ball, even if he had to fake it.

“That’s it, keep going,” I coax, but her labour is pointless. The second I open my eyes and look down at the foreign view, shame at dirtying something beautiful spikes in my chest, and my interest instantly fades. My free hand clenches into a fist and I pound the brick wall in front of me. This is fucking embarrassing. “Stop,” I mumble, my voice hoarse.

My fingers disengage from her hair and she pulls back, a look of disappointment taking over her face. “What the fuck, Noah?”

Yeah, that’s my cue to leave. I’ve never gotten a look of pity and I don’t want one now.

I rub a hand down my face, bend and wrap an arm around her waist and bring her to stand. Before she can question my lack of endurance again, I shake my head and lean in, setting my forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. It’s not gonna happen, love. At least not tonight.” Looking for any excuse but the real one for my lack of enthusiasm, I state, “Must’ve had too many beers.”

Pulling back, I tuck myself away. Shit, even my cock’s depressed. What she does next is the last thing I expect her to.

Adjusting her clothes, she flashes a sly smile, and demands, “You will make it up to me next weekend. I’ll bring a friend.”

That I can do. Buttoning up my fly, I glance up to look at her but she’s already gone.

Grinning like a Cheshire cat at the woman’s balls, I walk back towards the club. After a few steps the familiar pang of guilt hits me. My pace falters and the grin slips from my face. The tightening in my gut increases and waves of disloyalty drown me. Forcing my legs forward, I push the rear doors open. I need a drink.

Bear’s already leaning up against the bar when I saunter back in. He looks at me and gives a shake of his head as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. I shrug my shoulders at him in a ‘whatever’ gesture, trying to push the feelings inside me away.

“How do you do it, Noah?”

“Don’t know what you mean, mate. I didn’t do anything. I was just minding my own business.” And I give him my best innocent face.

“Yeah. Exactly. What chance do the rest of us mere mortals stand when you’re around?” His lips lift into a wry smile.

“Fuck off. You pulled tonight with me standing right next to you.”

“I’ve been working on Christy for the last two weeks. You pulled, got laid, and returned within the space of fifteen minutes.” His face changes to a broad grin. “You’re a dog.” He can think whatever the fuck he wants, it’s not like I’m going to admit to limp dick.

“You’re just jealous,” I quip.

“True story, mate. True story.” Bear laughs, and then takes a swig of his pint.

We walk over to a free table, further away from the blaring speakers.

“Anyway, how’re things at work?” I’m keen to change the subject from my lack of morals. And I’m interested as well. In Bear’s line of work he deals with the rich, famous, and criminal. Like me, it hasn’t taken long for him to build a reputation for his specialised abilities. Plus, he employs some of the lads from our old squadron. They’re some of the best in world. He’s in private security, runs his own business, named ‘Pegasus.’

Sitting down, he answers my question. “Same shit, different day really. I’ve got a pretentious, spoiled, and very irritating actress who won’t do a thing she’s bloody well told. And a fucking footballer who thinks the world revolves around him because he’s paid millions to kick a bag of air around a football pitch.”

He slams his drink on the table and leans in as his voice rises. “Both of them pull every trick in the book to jeopardise their own safety. Then they think I’m the dick for telling them in no uncertain terms it’s me who holds the cards, not them. They don’t get that when someone has made a very real threat against them, they actually might be in fucking danger and that’s why we’re there. You can imagine how that goes down with the lads. Same old, same old.”

His rant makes me laugh, because I can imagine the talking down these ‘famous’ people have had. Bear and the lads take safety very seriously. Anyone who jeopardises it will be taken down a peg or two. I would’ve loved to have seen their faces.

He spins his drink in between his palms and sighs. “Baz and Dean are on ops abroad, they haven’t checked in for two days.” Concern flickers through his eyes and my insides tense a little; that pair are fucking good. My hand unconsciously lifts my glass to my lips, a silent prayer for our buddies.

Besides babysitting people old enough to know better, this is the other darker side of ‘Pegasus.’ Our previous occupation combined with his present one. He runs operations for some pretty scary bastards and a classified government section we worked for called ‘The Underdogs.’ Deniable because we’re rogue, and paid accordingly. If caught, it’s tough shit. If we’re lucky, our bodies end up being identified by fingerprints and the tattoos we all have. But sometimes that’s not enough. My hand runs over my abdominals, and my skin burns under the ink.

Since leaving The Underdogs, I’ve run a few jobs for Bear and helped him out when he’s asked. We trust each other, years of friendship that can’t be broken by having nails ripped from your fingers or a gun at your temple kind of loyalty. Our trust is binding. Plus it pays well, and I don’t really have to work. But I haven’t done a job since… her.

“Enough of that shit. How’re things with you?”

He wants to change the subject and I can’t blame him, forty-eight hour silence isn’t good by any standards. But I don’t want to talk about my fucked-up life, either.

“Another pint?” My head indicates towards his empty glass and he nods in reply.

My alarm wakes me from another endless day of pain, and night of alcohol therapy. My head pounds, my mouth feels like a dog has taken a crap in it, and I’m still wearing last night’s clothes. Put bluntly, I feel like shit.

Sitting up on the side of the bed, I rest my elbows on my thighs. My fingers push into my temples, trying to relieve the ever-present tension behind them. I can’t go on like this, but I don’t know how to go on without her. It’s been months since she’s been gone. Yet I struggle to face every day, knowing she’s not by my side. Not mine.

I’ve dealt with a lot of shit in my life, but nothing I’ve seen or done prepared me for the pain caused by a 5’3” woman with the eyes of a storm.

I stand up and rock a little before gaining my balance. I know what I need to do. The only thing I know will focus the pain. My hand digs around in my jacket to find my phone and I call Bear.

“Hi, mate, how are you this morning?” he asks, and I cringe. He sounds like he’s shouting, but I know he’s not.

“Yeah, shit, man.” I sigh and take a deep breath before asking him for a lifeline. “I need a job.”

“You’ve got a job. You haven’t been doing it, Spud has. What are you on about?”

“You know what I mean. I need a job. I need to focus.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath from him when he understands my request.

“Look, mate, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Uncertainty shouts loud and clear in his voice.

“Fuck, Bear, I need to go on a job. I can’t stand to wake up every morning, roll over, and she’s not there. It’s just a cold, empty space and it’s fucking killing me. I’m killing me… please. I need this.” I’m begging my best friend for something he might not be prepared to give me.

“Noah, you’ve been out of the game for well over a year now. Your head’s fucked up, and you expect me to send you on a mission?” he asks incredulously.

“Yeah.” I know I’m asking a lot from him. There’s a silence as he debates what to do, whether to save me from myself or let me drown in my own shit.

“Okay… but I need you to pass the fitness test, and I want you down the range. I need to know I’m not sending you on a suicide mission. You’re not fucking expendable.” The tension in his tone is evident, but I don’t fucking care.

“Cheers, mate.” I hang up, knowing that’s exactly what I am.

My stomach growls and I’m unable to remember the last time I ate. I strip my clothes off as I walk to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, I grimace at my reflection. Dark circles rim my bloodshot eyes. My cheeks have hollowed out, my ribcage is clearly visible, and my muscle tone has halved. When I get onto the scales, the numbers register in my head. I’ve lost thirty-two pounds? Fuck. I need to gain some mass, and fast. There’s no way Bear will send me out yet.

But the call to Bear gives me focus. I head downstairs and drag out my protein shake powder from the back of the cupboard. After I finish making the drink, my next stop will be the gym, followed by a quick trip to my lock-up to collect my weapons of choice. My hunting knife, Berretta PX4 handgun, and Heckler & Koch MR762A5 Rifle. Bear will work me until he sees me fit for task, and I’m making sure that’s soon.

He doesn’t need to know that I don’t care if I live or die. I just want to numb the pain the only way I know how.