Austin - Piper Stone Page 0,15

bad for the mysterious woman. What the hell was she hiding? I heard Hawk’s footsteps. I still felt awkward being here, but at least there’d been no bloodshed between us. I chuckled at the thought. How many fights had Hawk and I gotten into over the years? It started the first day I’d met him. Maybe we’d both been trying to be the alpha dog. That had followed us to the Marines, the others laughing at our ridiculous behavior.

“I think this should do,” Hawk said quietly as he placed the blanket and pillow on the coffee table. “Do you need any clothes?”

“Nah. I got a few things in my bag.”

“That’s all your possessions? In a single duffle?”

“What more do I need?” I finally turned to face him. The expression on his face was one of confusion.

“Okay. If you say so, buddy. We’ll talk in the morning.” He started to walk away then stopped, continuing without turning around. “You can stay here as long as you like. Bryce won’t mind and Ashley will find you interesting.”

“I appreciate that, Hawk, but I’ll find somewhere to land. I have money.”

He huffed. “A man of continued mystery. A loner. Get some sleep.”

His words weren’t meant as a compliment.

I returned my gaze to the fire, my heart aching as a vision of Snake’s face pushed into the forefront of my mind. At least some memories weren’t horrible, especially the ones from long before we’d enlisted, long before we started using nicknames instead of given names. Ricardo Garcia had been a scrappy kid at first. Then he’d discovered weight training and girls. For a while the two of us had been inseparable, just regular bad boys who were the biggest thorns in the sheriff’s side.

And the side of every parent of a gorgeous young lady.

“Come on, you big chicken,” Ricardo taunted.

“I ain’t sure about this, dude.” I shook my head as I stared at the entrance to the bar, the name of the place fitting perfectly. Raunchy Ride.

“You do want to meet Gabriella, don’t you?”

Gabriella, a beautiful sultry blonde who hadn’t given me the time of day. She was a good girl, refusing to go out with a cowboy like me.

“You sure she’s inside? We ain’t twenty-one, ya know.”

“Come on. You look like a big biker. No one is going to fuck with you. Besides, Austin, you gotta learn to live a little. Take risks. Get some pussy. That’s what you’re missing in your life.”

Christ. How long had it been since I’d used the name Austin?

Risks.

Snake knew all about taking them, even if doing so threatened his life. I’d always thought he had a death wish, although I’d become the bad boy of the group of us. He simply wanted to protect the world. He’d done a damn good job for a while. Maybe all of us had, but we’d paid the price for championing freedom.

I wasn’t just bitter. I was livid that our backs hadn’t been protected by the people we promised to lay down our lives for, but the commanding officers couldn’t give a rat’s ass.

Continuing to process every day of the disastrous event didn’t do my psyche any good.

At least according to the overpaid psychiatrist that all five of us had been forced to talk to. Punching the asshole out hadn’t been one of my finer decisions, but it had sure felt good.

As I sat down on the couch, the weight of the past few months crushed down on my shoulders. I’d spent so long running away from my guilt that I was like a fish out of water, uncertain how I’d manage to get through the next day, let alone the rest of my life.

My hand was shaking as I brought the glass to my lips. After almost dropping the damn drink, I sat back, staring at the ceiling. I was one freaking mess. After managing to take a huge gulp, I shifted the glass to the table, swirling it before pulling my hand away. Suddenly, the fire seemed blazing hot, beads of sweat rolling down my face.

I yanked off the sweatshirt, taking several deep breaths. I couldn’t seem to get enough air in my lungs. Fuck, I hated the damn anxiety, the prickling sensations that became overwhelming from time to time. I fisted both hands, bringing them to my forehead. Why did Hawk insist that we accept the mission in the first place?

You know the answer, asshole. Because that’s the kind of men you’d all become.

I snickered at my inner thoughts.