Chapter One

Chapter

One

Sam concentrated on his technique,

keeping limber as he moved around the punching bag, when he struck

he made sure to punch the bag not push it. When he punched

he–

“Your brother needs

you.”

Sam shook his head to

clear his father’s voice from his mind. What had he been

thinking? Punching. Yes, plant your feet

and then—

“I know, Daddy, but

I—”

“No buts, Samuel! Your

brother is sick, and without this, he will die. Do you understand

that? If you do not do this for Thomas then you will effectively be

killing him. You will be responsible for killing your own brother.

Is that what you want?”

Gritting his teeth, Sam jumped up and

down for a moment, loosening the muscles in his arms. He rocked his

head from side to side on his neck and took a few deep breaths in

an attempt to relax.

“Hey, Pretty

Boy.”

Sam briefly closed his eyes at the

nickname and tried to ignore the man walking toward him. He focused

again on his footwork as he pounded his fists in a steady

syncopated rhythm into the heavy bag before him and shuffled

sideways so that he put his back toward the man still heading in

his direction. He should have known it would be a waste of time.

Finn McGregor was not a man to be ignored.

“Aww, come on, Pretty, you

gotta know that just turning your back on me is not going to work,”

Finn said as he walked up to stand almost shoulder to shoulder with

Sam. “I cannot be ignored! I know all the words to ‘American Pie’,

and I will stand here and sing it over and over again until you

acknowledge me, and let me warn you, my singing voice is not my

strong point. In fact, it should come with a warning

label.”

Sam stopped his punching and stepped

back from the bag, breathing heavily, but that tight feeling

beneath his skin still very much there. “Christ, Finn, can’t you

just go away and annoy someone else? Surely you and Dev have

something to argue about so that you can spend the afternoon making

up.”

“As enticing as that

sounds,” Finn answered as he moved to lean against the heavy bag

and look up at Sam, “Dev is over at the new house build with Marcel

and Riley. I swear to God, he loves all this construction stuff.

You know I found him looking at an online hardware store catalog

the other day and he was turned on.”

Sam grinned. “Bullshit. You’re making

that up.”

“I swear on all that is

holy that I am telling you nothing but the truth. The man threw me

to the bed and put all that built-up sexual tension created by

looking at automatic nail guns to good use. Would I lie to you?”

Finn’s eyes were wide, the picture of innocence, but there was a

definite twinkle of mischief in them.

“Yes, yes, you would.

Especially if you thought I would believe it.”

Finn grinned unrepentantly. “Well,

that is just something you are going to have to work out for

yourself. Now that you’ve stopped beating the shit out of this old

bag, you wanna tell me what’s got you all riled up?”

Sam turned to walk over to the trunk

of the tree that housed the heavy bag and leaned back against it as

he removed the gloves he wore. “Maybe I just want to burn off some

of these extra pounds I’m piling on now that Marcel is all loved

the fuck up and baking up a storm.”

Finn’s eyes narrowed, and he stared at

Sam in silence for a moment or two. “Boy, you have got to be the

worst liar in Bravo team. Firstly, although Marcel is baking some

amazingly calorific baked goods because of his current loved up

state, you haven’t gained a damn pound. In fact, you, Dev and Glenn

haven’t gained a single pound whereas all I have to do is look at a

damn choux pastry and I go up a damn belt notch. Secondly,” Finn

stepped closer, and Sam had to fight the urge to look away, “I know

when a guy is fighting a war with himself. I have been there,

bought the damn t-shirt, and starred in the HBO special as

myself.”

Sam took a deep breath, knowing that

Finn had indeed faced his own demons months ago when Bravo team had

come to Redwood Falls. Dev and Finn had been lovers when his

homophobic grandmother ran him out of town, threatening Finn in the

process. Eight years later, when Devon made it back to town, it was

to discover that Finn had been fighting his own war that entire

time a lot closer to home, at the hands of his abusive

father.

Devon had stepped in and brought Finn,

his brother, Nate, and his mom to the farm to protect them, but to

also wage a campaign to win Finn back. It had taken them a while to

work their way through the past, but they came out the other side

together and that was all that mattered.

“Demons from my past just

rearing their ugly heads, Finn, that’s all,” Sam said quietly as he

unwound the tape he’d wrapped around his knuckles.

Finn smiled gently back. “Yeah, I get

that. Hell, Sam, we’ve all got demons, but I think you know as well

as I do that they are better shared than bottled up within

you.”

Sam exhaled, planting his gloved hands

on his hips. “I seem to remember saying something similar to you

not long ago.”

Finn’s grin widened. “Where do you

think I got it from? Now, come on, spill. You’ve been coming out

here pounding on this bag a lot lately, and I want to know

why.”

If anyone would understand it would be

Finn. Hell, if anything his father had been worse than Sam’s. “My

brother was born with a series of medical problems that were

difficult to treat back then. Not least of which was leukemia.” He

saw a flicker of compassion in Finn’s eyes. “My parents then made

the decision to have a second child.” The compassion was replaced

quickly by confusion.

“You see, Finn, I was

conceived out of love, but not for me, or for the chance to have

another child to love and spoil. My parents had me so that I could

provide blood cells and bone marrow to help save Thomas. From the

time I was born I knew that my life was second to

Thomas’s.”

“Did Thomas live?” Finn

asked quietly

Sam had undergone various procedures

to save his brother more than once. He had given blood, plasma,

tissue, bone marrow and they were even talking about taking a

kidney to try to save his brother, but in the end, it hadn’t been

enough.

“No, the doctors say he

passed due to complications from his illnesses. My parents blamed

me.”

Finn frowned. “That’s fucked up. What

do you think?”

Sam jolted in shock. No one had ever

asked him that before. “I think he simply gave up and embraced

death. He did it for me as much as himself.”

He blinked back tears and stared at

the heavy bag he had been pounding on for the past thirty minutes

and shook out arms that felt heavy. The heavy feeling in his chest,

and the sensation that his skin was too tight for him that had

driven him out to the old oak tree behind the main house an hour

earlier still lingered so he lifted his gloved hands and began his

workout combinations again.

“Sounds to me,” Finn said

softly, “like your brother loved you very much, even if your

parents were assholes who couldn’t see a good thing when he was

standing right in front of them.”

“Yeah. It’s just sometimes

easier to believe the bad stuff about yourself, you know? But I’m

working on changing that.”

Finn moved forward and placed a hand

on Sam’s shoulder, and he looked up to meet his friend’s eyes. “You

just make sure you do. I know that you and Bravo team are closer

than family, but I feel like y’all are my family, too.”

Sam grinned and nodded. “You know we

feel the same way about you, too, Finn. But that doesn’t mean I

won’t eventually make good on my promise and shoot you one day for

letting that Pretty Boy nickname get out there.”

Finn shrugged as he started to walk

backward toward the main house. “You know you love me too much to

shoot me. Now, I think I will take your suggestion and go make a

phone call to my beloved and get him pissed off about something.”

With an exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows, he turned and walked

back to the house.

Sam leaned his head back against the

tree. He had been coming out here every night to beat the shit out

of the heavy bag in an effort to tire himself out completely and

allow him to sleep. When that stopped working, he had added an

afternoon session. He had never suffered from insomnia before, but

it sure as hell was plaguing the shit out of him now. His mind just

never seemed to switch off.

He would have come out here in the

mornings, too, but Glenn had taken that time slot as his own, and

damned if Sam was about to deprive his friend of that time. Glenn

had been the victim of a guy who’d worked for the construction team

on site. He’d made it appear that he and Glenn had indulged in a

one-night stand when in fact the guy had pretty much date-raped

Glenn. It had been Glenn’s spotter Maddox who had walked in on the

two of them the next morning.

Without waiting for an explanation,

Maddox had acted like the hotheaded bastard he was and left CTF

almost three months ago. Maddox had left under a cloud of

misunderstandings, but according to Glenn, he had called and now

knew the truth.

But Maddox didn’t come back, and Sam

thought that the damage his leaving had done to Glenn might never

be fixed. Sam knew that neither Glenn nor Maddox had acted on the

connection that had been obvious between the two of them, but he

had always thought they would end up getting together once all of

them were out. Now he wasn’t so sure.

He grabbed the gloves he’d dropped to

the ground and headed back to the main house. He had attended

enough psych lectures in his time to know that his insomnia might

be caused by significant life stress. Leaving the military after

having almost lost his life on more than one occasion and suffering

a slight case of PTSD might do it. Or it might be the emotional

discomfort of that combined with the environmental changes of not

being shot at on a daily basis. Or hell, it might well be a

combination of both.

But what he refused to acknowledge as

a potential reason for the insomnia and resurfacing of those

childhood memories was the reappearance in his life of one dark

haired, green eyed bomb disposal expert and his tall, blond, hot

county sheriff.

Nope. They had nothing to do with it.

All he had to do was get his shit together and get the hell over

them.

It!

It, he had to get the hell

over it, not

them.

Shit.

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