Chapter 5
Bradford
“It’s the nightmares,” Turner leans back against the couch. “I can’t fucking make them stop.” He leans over and gives his PTSD dog, Gunner, a pat on the head. “I thought with all this therapy, things would get better.”
I relax back in the chair. “It’s not an overnight change, and our subconscious is always going to bring things up that we try to forget.”
Turner takes a mindful breath, his eyes jumping to the TV, which is playing the afternoon news. “That Cade guy…” His voice trails off as he meets my gaze. “He wasn’t a good soldier.”
I shrug. “He was.”
Turner narrows his eyes at me. “I saw his story, Cal.” I wince as he uses my first name. “He killed two Marines in Texas.”
“Yeah,” I don’t offer any extra information. “He did.”
“And he was being charged with capital murder. In Texas.”
“Yep.”
“Stop gray rocking me,” Turner snaps, his voice growing sharp. “Why the hell are you mixed up with some guy like that? I thought you only helped the ones who were deserving of it.”
That gets my attention.
“And what makes you think you’re deserving of it? More so than Cade?” I counter him with the question, and he bristles. Good. He needs to work through some anger. And fucking entitlement.
“I didn’t kill my fellow comrades.”
“No, just your brother,” I retort. “What’s the fucking difference? One could maybe even argue that yours was worse. That was your flesh and blood—the guy who was trying desperately to fucking help you.”
Turner’s eyes darken, and I ready myself for his reaction.
“You think it’s fair to judge Cade now?” I test him, poking the beast once more. “You’re both in the same boat. He killed his best friend and best friend’s girlfriend.”
Turner sits in silence, and for a moment, I think he might slip into the blackness of his mind, but instead, the expression fades, replaced by curiosity. “Why did he kill them?”
I run my fingers along the leather of my chair. “I don’t know. It’s something he hasn’t talked about. The kid has a past, and it’s a complicated one.”
“I get it.”
“I know you do.” I push myself to a standing position. “Which is why you’re going to help me keep an eye on him.”
“Where is he now?” Turner asks, following my lead and standing to his feet as well. “I haven’t seen him in a couple days.”
I give Turner a look. “Sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures.”
Turner’s lips tug into a grin. “Oh fuck, he’s in the basement.”
“He is, but he’s got a bad case of claustrophobia, so it would be best if he could stay in the bunkhouse with you at the farm.”
“And you want me to babysit him,” Turner grimaces.
I hesitate, stopping by my front door. “I honestly don’t know.
I’ve never ran this program under the guise that someone has to stay.
I don’t feel like forcing someone into this structure is efficient or worthwhile.
” I run my fingers over the dark stubble along my jaw.
There’s just as much gray as there is black now, but it is what it is.
I’m getting old. Forty-five is old.
According to Molly, anyway.
“So, why does he have to stay?” Turner presses as I open the front door and step out onto the front porch. The morning winter sun cooks my face in a way that seems to be pure irony with how cold it is. “Why can’t you just let him screw himself over?”
I blow out a breath. “That’s always been what I’d do, but Cade is… extenuating circumstances.” And damn good at getting rid of bodies when he applies himself.
“Like extremely risky circumstances,” Turner clarifies.
“You could be facing similar charges.” I close the door behind Turner, and then head down the steps. “There’s no judgment from me when it comes to whoever I’m tasked with helping.”
“And then employing,” Turner adds. “We become contractors for you, once you can trust us. Isn’t that how this works?”
“Yep,” I lead Turner to the basement entrance outside.
“But I don’t know what will happen with him.
” I gesture to the door as I dig out my keys.
“He’s high profile, unreliable, and while he can be one of the most thorough when it comes to cleanups, I don’t know if I could ever cut him loose with a clear conscience. ”
Turner narrows his eyes. “So why keep him?”
“If I can control him, maybe it would work for him to stay around and help me.”
Turner’s seeing straight through my bullshit. “Why are you keeping him?”
I pop the lock. “Because I have a good friend who’s trusted me with this.”
“And you’re saving his ass.”
“Something like that,” I mutter, shoving the lock in my jacket pocket and then swinging the latch.
As soon as it opens, a body comes barreling out of the basement, nearly knocking me off my feet.
I instantly react, pushing right through him and pinning him to the ground with a thud, warmth spraying in my face.
Turner is right beside me, coming in as backup. “What the fuck are you doing?” He shouts down at Cade’s face, which I suddenly realize is bleeding.
Shit. That’s what sprayed on my face.
“I told you I was claustrophobic,” Cade sneers up at us, his green eyes wild. “I can’t fucking be locked in that goddamn room. I need to be able to move for fuck’s sake.”
“It was eight hours,” I grit out. “You needed to sleep.”
“I can’t sleep when it’s like that.” He relaxes back, his head thudding back in the mud. “You gotta let me have room to breathe, Doc.”
“Doc?” Turner looks at me.
“I don’t know why he calls me that,” I mumble, and then climb off Cade, straightening my hat. “But I can’t let you just run rampant. You disappear for days on end, you’ve missed multiple jobs, and I can’t have this happening anymore. I can’t have you spotted.”
“I’m not going to get spotted,” Cade grunts, pushing himself up to a seated position. “I just got a lot of shit running through my head, and I gotta get a release or I can’t… I can’t fucking function.”
“What kind of release?” Turner’s caution is evident as he eyes him, keeping a couple feet of space between them.
Cade shrugs. “I don’t know. It just depends on the day, I guess. I have…urges.”
“Same,” Turner huffs, running a hand over his face. “And they fucking suck.”
“I happen to like them,” Cade gives him a crooked grin. “But to each their own.”
Not everyone wants to get better. And that’s Cade’s problem. He’s only here because he has to be. Because I’m the last fucking resource he’s got.
Ben should’ve just gotten rid of him.
But I get it. He couldn’t. It was too central to him, and he’s the last guy that needs anyone poking around him. The corrupted CO makes me look like a saint.
And Cade turned into his very failed protégé.
“We have work that needs to be done,” I clear my head and stay on task as Cade tries to wipe the mud from the back of his jeans. “Let’s go to the office and sort it. Turner, you drive him. I’ll meet you there.”
“Got it.”
Cade gives me a dirty look. “Guess I’ve lost driving privileges now, too?”
“Just go,” I snap at him, shaking my head. I watch the two of them head for Turner’s truck, and my phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out, seeing an email from one of my top clients. Just as I’m about to open it, my phone starts to ring.
Molly.
“Hey hon,” I clear my throat. “What’s up?”
“You’ve been so busy,” she starts, letting out a sigh. “And you were still sleeping when I left this morning for class.”
I can’t help but grin. “And so, what? You’re calling me to complain right now?”
“No,” Molly laughs, and I feel a blast of relief flood my system. “I was calling because I told you that Mom’s new boyfriend is so weird, and they invited me to go to dinner with them tonight.”
“So don’t go, if you don’t want to.” I start the engine of my truck. “You’re a grown woman now, you can make those decisions for yourself. Just,” I pause, “Be nice to your mom about it. It’s not her fault she doesn’t have the best taste in men.”
“She was married to you for almost a decade,” Molly deadpans.
“Again, my point remains.”
“Ugh,” Molly’s voice echoes through the cab of my truck as the Bluetooth connects. I back out of the driveway, keeping a close watch on Turner and Cade in front of me. “She really wants me to go.”
“Okay, what do you want to do?” I don’t take my eyes off the road, my stomach knotting up as my brain starts to picture all the things that could go wrong on the drive to the farm.
“I want you to go with us.”
I nearly choke on air. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Come with me to dinner, Dad. Please.”
“With your mom and her new boyfriend?”
“Yes, she always says that you can come, and you came to that one family dinner once. You guys have always been cool with each other. Just show me some support.”
“You’re putting a lot of pressure on me,” I mutter, as I lean out and punch in the numbers to the gate. It swings open and Turner pulls through ahead of me. I follow them to the main office, my daughter still working on me.
“Please, Dad. I want to be supportive of Mom, but you have to meet this guy. He’s so different…”
“You also said that about her last one,” I reason, putting the truck in park.
“That’s because he was a long-haired accountant, and not her usual, military man type. That’s not the same as this.”
“So what makes this one different?”
“Dad… He’s… creepy.”
My internal siren sounds. “Then I’ll be there.”