Shadows Never Leave (Shadow Duet #2)

Prologue - Dominic

TWO YEARS AGO

The countdown was officially on.

Two years until I’d be on a plane out of this sand-covered hell hole. One hundred and four weeks until I could track Ryan down. Seven hundred and thirty days until I’d be breathing the same air as him.

Until he’d likely punch me in the face.

That was fine. Honestly, I expected and deserved nothing less.

That didn’t mean I was returning unprepared. Endless shifts on watch had given me a lot of time to reflect. To think.

All my thoughts were of Ryan. It didn’t matter how much time passed, that never changed.

I thought about what he might be doing. Of whether I ever crossed his mind.

Of the little kernels of knowledge I learned about him from social media, or Max’s calls with their mother.

I hoarded those nuggets like a miser, not letting anyone else know about them, but taking them out to examine each and every night.

I knew Ryan was living back in the town where we grew up. That he’d moved back after graduating from York University with a first-class honours degree.

In business. Not art.

Discovering that had sent me on a bender I wasn’t proud of. Couldn’t look back on it without cringing, even all these years later.

He’d got a job at some fancy-ass accountancy firm and worked his way up the ranks in a ruthless way that I couldn’t help but be proud of. Maybe he’d learned something from me, all those years ago. Or maybe he’d chosen this course to spite me.

I didn’t let myself consider the alternative—that thoughts of me hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“You’re under my skin, and I don’t know how to get you out. Worse, I don’t think I want to. I…I like having you there too much.”

No, this wasn’t one-sided. It never had been. It had always been the two of us.

Before I’d gone and fucked everything up.

Hindsight was everything. Now, I could easily see how wrong I’d been about everything. Hiding my plans from Ryan. Confiding about him to Max. Lying to cover my tracks.

At eighteen, I’d thought I was doing what was best. Protecting everyone I loved by working in half-truths and outright lies.

At twenty-six, I knew I’d been a fucking moron. Communication was all we’d needed.

Ryan had been right when he’d said I needed to grow up. It was what I’d been doing all these years.

That, and planning how to win him back.

I wasn’t labouring under any delusions that I could just stroll back into his life and all would be forgiven. Hell, I wasn’t even expecting him to let me explain or apologise. I knew Ryan better than that. He might not admit it, but my Shadow had a stubborn streak that rivalled my own.

That was why I had my plan: Years of long night watches with nothing to do but plot and scheme. To go over every aspect, searching for flaws. And to save. To work hard so this time away might be worth it.

With only two years left to wait, everything was finally coming together.

A foot knocked against my own. “You’re off in your own world again.”

I looked over, and for a split second, it wasn’t my best friend staring at me, but my Shadow. The feeling faded as fast as it came, leaving behind the ever-present ache. “What?”

“Get your head screwed on, man,” Max said, swaying slightly with the movement of the Land Rover our unit had piled into. “You’re not in the departure lounge yet.”

I grunted, my hands already going to my SA80 and checking it over. Max was right. I could have the perfect plan to win Ryan back, but there was no point if I didn’t survive long enough to make it happen.

“Penny’s hardly ever here,” Raffle drawled. Not his real name, of course. We rarely used those. Hence why he called me Penny. With his relaxed posture and innocent baby-blues, you’d never believe him capable of killing multiple men in a matter of seconds. “Always off daydreaming.”

“At least he’s capable of imagination,” Taff quipped back, his Welsh lilt strong despite the years we’d spent in Iraq. “Your creativity’s so shit you can’t even manage a paint by numbers.”

Quiet chuckles broke out as Raffle flipped Taff off with a smirk. Beside him, Mimic lived up to his name by mockingly copying the action, to yet more laughter. I sat back and let the brotherly camaraderie wash over me.

I’d miss this. I would. These men had been my family for the past several years, and it’d be painful to walk away from them.

But not as painful as it had been to walk away from Ryan.

Thankfully, some of them would still be part of my civilian life. Losing Ryan had taught me to find ways to keep those I cared about close.

A lesson I’d give anything to have learned earlier.

We rolled to a stop, and I barked out our code word. “Pinecone.”

A meaningless word to anyone listening, but it held a clear order for our unit. Fall in line. Follow the chain of command. Quiet.

With the flick of a switch, every one of us morphed into someone else. Soldiers. Grunts. Albeit highly trained ones.

Our mission tonight was straightforward. Sweep the base for insurgents. Secure the perimeter. Collect any intel.

It was the kind of task we’d done a thousand times before, but as I stepped out into the darkness, something felt different.

The hair on my arms stood up as my gaze swept over the apparently deserted site. There was nothing to see. No evidence of human life.

The lingering sense of unease didn’t fade though. If anything, it grew worse.

“You feel that?” Max muttered as he stepped up to my side, squinting into the darkness.

Mimic appeared on my other side, uncharacteristically solemn. “I don’t like this one bit.”

I gave a clipped nod, speaking slightly louder so my words carried to the rest of the unit. “Keep it fast and tight, boys.”

As sergeant, the responsibility for tonight’s mission rested on my shoulders. I’d risen through the ranks quickly. Almost as fast as Ryan had. Funny how, despite our different worlds, our lives still mirrored each other.

Max nodded, peeling off to the left-hand perimeter. Mimic, Treacle, and Warren followed. I didn’t look back as I moved to the right. I didn’t need to. Raffle and Taff would be there, watching my back, just as they always did.

Many men had come and gone over the years, but me, Max, Raffle, Mimic, and Taff were the core.

Max and I had met Raffle and Mimic the first day of basic at Aldershot and we’d bonded immediately.

The wound in Max’s and my friendship had been open and fresh at the time.

The two others—Tom and Kieran, as we’d known them back then—hadn’t stitched it up, but they had held it together enough to stop the bleeding.

The four of us had met Taff when we’d been shipped out on our first tour in Iraq.

With a tour under his belt already, he’d been assigned to show us the ropes.

He’d approached the task with the attitude of an older sibling having to put up with their younger ones.

Always with a sigh, like we were a mild inconvenience to have around.

It had triggered something I hadn’t realised existed—a knowledge that he was treating us how Max had once treated Ryan.

How I’d treated him.

I fucking hated it.

Difference with Taff was that he’d genuinely cared about us. While I’d obviously come to care for Ryan, that hadn’t always been the case, especially not during those early years of knowing the Davies twins.

I hated that most of all.

Taff’s training might have been begrudging, but he always knew when to push and when to hold back.

When to toss a bucket of water over us if we overslept, and when to lie to our superiors so we could get some much-needed rest. He’d rubbed Raffle’s back while he puked, pulled Mimic from a dark place when his past came calling, and patched up Max’s nose when he drank too much and started trouble with the locals.

As for me? Taff had listened to my many drunken ramblings about the boy I’d left behind.

The man I’d prayed I’d get to return to.

Taff was the only one who knew. I mean, Raffle and Mimic knew there was someone called Ryan who was important to me. The whole unit did. With my tattoos and how often we’d had to strip in front of each other over the years, it wasn’t like I could hide it.

But only Max and Taff knew the truth of who he was to me.

My Shadow.

It wasn’t that I was ashamed of Ryan, or my sexuality. I’d come out as bi when I was twenty-one. There’d been a few homophobic pricks, but I took care of them. And the ones who’d slipped past me?

Max, Mimic, Taff, and Raffle took care of those.

No, it wasn’t about my sexuality. It was because Ryan was mine.

I didn’t want to share him.

My breathing was harsh as I led my men forward. There’d been a time when I’d been thrilled to be in the same unit as my friends. To know that the soldiers at my back could be trusted to keep it safe.

But the years under the desert sun had been cruel. I’d watched people I knew die. Held them while they bled out. Zipped them into body bags and cried late at night, wondering how their loved ones back home would react when they got the news.

It made me wonder what would happen if it was me. People here might mourn me, but would anyone back home? I hadn’t spoken to my so-called father since I left. I exchanged the odd text with Max and Ryan’s mum, but we couldn’t be considered close.

Really, there was only one person I cared about. I might have been a selfish prick, but I didn’t want Ryan to mourn me. All I’d done was cause him pain. I’d hate to do that again.

With how we’d left things? I suspected I didn’t need to worry about that.

What I did need to worry about was dying before I got the chance to make things right with Ryan. It had been my biggest fear for a while now.

That, and having to zip a bag closed over Max’s face. Or Raffle’s, Mimic’s, or Taff’s.

I wouldn’t come back from it.

Only two years to go. Not just for me, but Max, Raffle, and Mimic too. Taff was leaving even sooner—just five weeks until he’d be back home.

We were so close.

So damned close.