Chapter 5
Malachi
When we were all together, it was a raucous affair. Any time spent with my brothers in arms was good and something I was forever thankful for. They’d each lifted me up and shown me the ropes as soon as I’d joined their team at twenty-one, and I’d been with them ever since.
While I was the youngest on the team, I was by no means the most immature; that honor was all Oakley’s, although Hunter was a close second before everything went to shit.
We ranged from Everett at age forty-two to me at twenty-four.
Then there was Maisie, who never served, but was part of our team and was like an annoying but loveable little sister to everyone.
Ev never served with us directly, but he’d given us a place to recover and regroup and had given us a home and new purpose.
After an IED destroyed one of our Humvees, the military honorably discharged everyone except Hunter.
Some of us were still nursing physical wounds from that day, like Walker’s spinal injury, Oakley’s burn scars, and my severed leg.
Meanwhile, Oliver was dealing with hearing loss.
We all had varying forms of PTSD. Hunter had lost Jake, his military service dog, in the blast. Jake had saved our lives that day; he was the true hero of our team.
Hunter had been the only one of us to come out physically unscathed, but I’d seen the guilt and pain beyond his grief and heartache when he thought no one was looking.
Everyone called me Radar, as I was observant and often picked up little things people missed.
We each had nicknames—some serious, some funny, and some linked to our abilities.
Walker was Texas, both for Walker, Texas Ranger and the fact he was from Texas.
Hunter was Irish, from his red hair and Irish roots.
Oakley was Annie, for Annie Oakley, and because he was our team’s sharpshooter.
We all joked that Oliver and Oakley were like Thor and Loki, stoic and mischievous, but Oakley hated the nickname Annie, so of course, he was stuck with it, and Oliver got Thor, even though he looked nothing like him.
We’d lost our captain, Brock; second in command, Andrew; and Oakley’s counterpart and our other weapons specialist, Dustin or Jane for Calamity Jane.
I will never forget the horror of that day; none of us would, but we’d survived and were all still dealing with the aftermath a year on.
After helping clean up the dishes from lunch, I headed to one of the large barns, which we’d basically converted into a home rehabilitation gym with weights, treadmills, cross-trainers, bars, punching bags, and whatever else we needed to stay in shape or for our varying physical therapies.
I grabbed my gauze and tape and began wrapping my hands as I headed straight for the sandbag.
I started with a few light punches before the darkness took over and my rage bubbled to the surface.
All the things Kath and even Emily had mentioned kept popping into my mind as I continued to jab the bag.
Sweat dripped down my back, and my prosthesis burned as I attacked, again and again.
How was I related to such a monster?
How could he abuse Gracie?
I hated Cain and my father in equal measure. Both were cut from the same cloth and disgusting hypocrites, hiding behind religion and the church to hide their misdeeds and vile nature.
I was so caught up in my thoughts and rage that I reacted when someone touched my shoulder.
Turning, I swung out with all my might but Ev took me down with ease.
His large, muscled body easily dodged my blow as he unbalanced me and had me flat on my back on the mat.
Everett had been one of the youngest Delta Force operators ever to join such an elite team, so it was no wonder he could take any of us down without breaking a sweat.
“Sorry,” I grunted, sitting up to catch my breath.
“No worries. It happens all the time with you lot. I just came to check on you.” He offered me his hand and helped me to my feet.
There was a pinch in my prosthetic that made me wince as I hobbled over to the bench to check it.
I knew better than to disregard any twinges, having taken considerable time for my body to adjust to this prosthesis.
“You okay?” he asked as he took a seat beside me on the bench.
“Yeah. Might have overdone it. I should have changed my sock before tackling another workout.” Rolling up my pants as I spoke.
I carefully removed my prosthesis and sleeve, then rolled down the gel liner before removing my extra sock liner.
Sure enough, there was a red patch where a hot spot was forming.
“Damn it.” I cursed, hating these things and knowing it would prevent me from wearing my prosthesis as regularly as I wanted.
“Can you grab a chair for me, please?” I looked up at Ev to see he already had one in front of me. “Thanks,” I smiled. “Always prepared, huh?”
“With Maisie, Everly and you guys, I better be.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. “So, Grace is back. Want to talk about it?”
I shifted myself into the wheelchair and heaved a sigh.
“I couldn’t believe it was her; I was sure my mind was playing tricks on me…
” so I told Ev everything. How she’d run, and I’d unprofessionally chased her, how my heart rate kicked up when she was near—my crush, all of it.
“What am I supposed to do? She’s suffered all these years because of my brother, and now she’s here.
I want to kill Cain for daring to touch her.
” As I rocked back and forth in my chair, it was a good thing I’d taken my prosthesis off, or I would have been pacing.
I wanted nothing more than to rage at the bag again, and if I’d been able to stand, I would have.
A raw, guttural sound clawed at my throat, itching to escape, to shatter the quiet with the weight of all I’d learned today.
“I get that this is hard and a shock but think about Grace and all she’s been through. You two were friends once. It sounds like that’s something she could use right now.” His gruff voice was serious, but understanding.
I’d always looked up to Everett, and we’d become close, especially over this last year.
He’d been the only person I’d told about Gracie and my father.
Of all the guys, he was the one who got me.
Even though he was so much older, there was a kinship of life experiences aging us before our time.
He was my best friend and the brother I’d wished I’d had, even if he was old enough to be my father.
“I know, but what if she doesn’t want to be friends again?
How can she be friends with her abuser’s brother?
I’m a constant reminder of all she’s endured.
” The thoughts sat heavy in my stomach, growing the darkness that I’d tried to suppress all these years.
I’d missed her, but what if she never wanted to see me again?
What if she couldn’t get past our familial connection?
“When was the last time you’ve spoken to Cal?” Ev asked. His gaze assessed me for the truth before I even spoke. Cal, or Calloway, was our team psychologist and a childhood friend of Ev’s.
“I spoke to him yesterday, but yes, I’ll call him today.” I rolled my eyes at his big brother nature.
“Good. It’s what he’s here for.” Ev got to his feet and picked up my prosthetic. “Now let’s get you home so you can take care of that leg.”
Heaving a sigh, I followed him out of the shed and down the ramp to my bunkhouse, all while my thoughts continued to swirl.