Page 10 of Mercenary's Redemption

A flare of anger rises in my chest - at him for his callous attitude, but mostly at myself for getting swept up in silly romantic notions. I let myself believe, even for a moment, that he stepped in as some noble act of chivalry to safeguard me. What an utterly foolish flight of fancy that was.

Gritting my teeth, I press the rag down harder than intended against one of his wounds. For the first time since I started tending to him, Chance flinches, his body going rigid. Before I can so much as blink, his massive hand clamps down on my wrist in a vice-like grip.

"You might wanna be careful there." he rumbles, eyes boring into mine with an intensity that makes me tremble.

"S-Sorry," I stammer out, a spike of fear shooting through me.

Every self-preservation instinct is screaming at me to run, to get as far away from this dangerous man as possible.

But then, just as quickly as the menace flared in his gaze, it's gone. Chance releases my wrist and actually looks...sheepish? Remorseful even?

"My bad," he mutters gruffly, raking a hand through his shaggy hair. “I'm just...used to acting first, thinking later around threats. I didn't mean to scare you—or hurt you either."

I rub my wrist absently, the brief flash of fear already fading.

"You didn't hurt me," I reassure him. Then, seizing my chance, I lift my chin boldly. "But...I think I'm owed one question from you. To make us even."

Chance lets out a low rumble, almost like a growl. But instead of shooting me down, he simply leans forward.

I can barely breathe, mesmerized by the sight of his hulking frame, every cut and bulge of his muscles rippling beneath tanned skin. Despite the potential danger radiating off him in waves, I feel an inexplicable pull, a desire to remain right here at his side.

"Well?" he prompts gruffly. "You got one question, so ask it and make it quick."

Swallowing hard, I force my wandering thoughts back into focus.

"Why don't you believe in protecting your country anymore?"

Chance arches one thick brow, as if surprised by my query.

"That's what you really want to know about?"

I give a small nod, undeterred.

"I'm curious...why a man like you, who's clearly capable of protecting others, would just throw away everything you fought for by leaving the military."

A low, humorless chuckle rumbles from his broad chest as he shakes his head slowly.

"I see." With a weary sigh, Chance leans back, his face growing pensive. "Truth is, I did believe in defending this country with every fiber of my being for years. Spent damn near two decades of my life serving, putting my ass on the line more times than I can count."

His jaw tightens, cords standing out starkly on his neck. "But then I got out, and ain't nobody gave two shits about old me no more. Was left to fend for my own, get by on scraps with zero support."

Chance's fist clenches, and I can see the muscles straining beneath the scarred skin.

"I accepted that shitty reality for myself. But then they did the same worthless song and dance when it was my baby brother who needed 'em most. The kid came back from his last tour an absolute mess," Chance continues in a low, pained rasp. "Unbearable PTSD - every loud noise, every unexpected bang made him jump out of his skin, sent him into a panic attack."

He shakes his head slowly, eyes downcast as he clenches that massive fist so tightly his knuckles turn white. "And those bastards who'd praised him as a brave soldier did nothing to help him. Just left him to suffer, to spiral deeper and deeper into his living hell."

Chance's arm gives an involuntary twitch, and I watch in dismay as fresh blood begins welling up from the split skin, staining the crisp white bandages I'd just applied. He doesn't even seem to notice, so consumed by the bitter memories.

"Ended up with my brother losing his grip on reality entirely," he bites out through gritted teeth. "Putting himself and others at risk with his episodes until the police had to lock his ass up for public safety."

Only then does Chance finally raise his turbulent gaze to meet mine, and the anguish burning in their depths makes my heart clench. In that moment, I see the scared, helpless older brother he must have been, forced to watch his younger sibling self-destruct while the system they gave everything for turned its back.

"So, you tell me..." he rasps, fist clenched so tightly now that fresh rivulets of crimson are snaking down his forearm. "Why the hell would I ever put my faith in a country that abandons its own like that?"

Chapter 6 - Chance

The rage comes rushing back in a tidal wave and crashes over me with a force I can barely contain. My entire body is trembling with fury - at the military who cast us aside like garbage, at the injustice my baby brother suffered, at the whole goddamn world that failed us both.

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