Shake The Frost (Crystal Lake #6) - Juliana Stone Page 0,29

around?” Ethan asked, watching the man closely. He liked him. The guy seemed like a straight shooter. But did he want him sniffing around Emily’s house? Hell no.

“Not sure,” Connor replied. “Up until a few months ago, I thought my career would be in the forces, and Crystal Lake was nowhere near my radar.”

“What happened?”

At the dark look on Connor’s face, Ethan got the feeling the two of them had a lot more in common than he thought.

“Life. Chance. A bad day that started in hell and got worse.” Connor cleared his throat. “I had a come-to-Jesus kind of moment that led me back here.” He shrugged. “Plus my grandfather passed and left me the farm. Gave me another reason, I suppose, though it’s not so much a farm anymore as a sanctuary for rejects. I’ve got a blind wolf cub coming this afternoon. All the way from Wyoming.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“We’ll see how she fits in with the menagerie. I’ve got everything from bison to horses and cows and goats. Last week, I had two miniature pigs brought to me.” Connor grinned. “My grandfather always had a soft spot for animals of any kind. Pretty sure he liked them more than humans. He was smart with his money, so there’s a lot of it to keep his operation running. The least I can do is honor his memory and look after things.” He shrugged. “That’s what I’m doing.”

Ethan remembered Connor’s grandfather as a big man with an easy smile and hearty laugh who volunteered in the community and was heavily involved in sports. He was a much-sought-after referee who’d called many a game Ethan had played.

“I liked your Gramps. He was a good guy.”

Connor nodded, eyes on the beer in his hand. “I spent as much time as I could out at my grandfather’s farm. Just to get away from the old man. Dad was a bad drunk, the kind who used his fists to get his point across. My mom stayed as long as she could, but left when I was eight.” He shrugged. “I don’t blame her, really. I mean, he was just as hard on her as he was on me. It’s just, after she left, I was the only one around to take his punches.”

“Shit,” Ethan murmured, at little uncomfortable at the man’s honesty.

Connor smiled, but it was the kind that didn’t quite reach the eyes. “I was a computer geek, which was a total embarrassment to my father. Didn’t play football or hockey. I was happier at the library than hanging around the ball diamond all summer. He didn’t know what to do with me, and, after a while, he left me alone. Like I didn’t matter enough to hassle anymore. Then the night before our graduation, he got piss drunk and we got into it. It was the first time I stood up for myself. I’d just informed him that I wanted to go college in California. I’d been accepted into one of the best software programs in the country. He told me it was a pussy career and I was less than a man to consider it. I told him to go fuck himself. Then he beat me so bad, I ended up in the hospital and missed graduation.”

Shocked, Ethan thought back, but he had nothing. Connor hadn’t been on his radar back then.

“I had no idea,” he said, roughly. “That’s tough.”

“As soon as I was out, I enlisted. I was determined to be the man he wanted me to be, but not because I knew it would make him happy. Because I knew it was something he’d never been able to achieve himself. And I wanted to be prepared for the next time he raised his fists to me. I’d make him sorry he ever lifted a hand against me or my mom.” Connor’s voice dropped, deadened with a coldness Ethan knew all too well.

“I didn’t get the chance,” Connor said, putting down his empty beer. “The bastard died before I made it back.”

“You were a SEAL?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” Glancing toward the door, Connor straightened. “Shit, I just unloaded on you like a damn pup shaking in his boots. Sorry about that. Finding that bike brought up a lot of memories. Most of them not good.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ethan replied. “I know what it’s like to stare down the ghosts of the past. Speaking of which, I’ve got dinner with the folks. I should probably take a shower, or my mother will