Page 28 of Hold On Through The Pain

A few of the guys laughed, Striker gave a half-hearted chuckle. He doubted Whitney wouldmake bad choices. He wasn’t like the rest of them. Sure, he fucked around, but Whitney was a stand-up guy.

Striker had grown up a punk loser from the wrong side of the tracks. The Army had been his only option for any sort of a future. With no money even for trade school, he’d taken his GED and left high school early. The first few years in the Army had been hell, but he’d impressed someone and been promoted. Ranger school had opened for him, and the decision was easy. He figured he would probably die soon anyway, so why not go for the hardest thing possible. After three years in as a Ranger and he hadn’t died, he decided staying in was a good idea. Now he was about to turn twenty-five, never married, and no kids. He was Army through and through, and then there was Shannon. She’d become important after only a few days with her. Once they spent some serious time together, he figured she would be the better part of his life.

He drew in a slow breath, praying Shannon would move in with him. His palms started to sweat, and his head spun. He would never let her go if he had her, but not in a creepy way; instead he would work his ass off to keep her happy because he knew that life without Shannon wouldn’t be worth much.

Six hours after they landed at the base in Spain, they loaded on a plane and took off forhome. Touching down on American soil jolted him awake. Shannon’s graduation would be happening soon. He wanted to go, but he’d have to ask for leave, again.

He cleaned his gear, stowing his things in the proper place so the next time they went out, he’d have everything at the ready. He pulled out his phone and dialed Shannon. She didn’t answer. He called again; same result. He sent a text telling her he was home, but there was no response. His heart twisted, and his stomach ached as the hours passed and still his text went unanswered. With his paperwork done from the mission, he headed to the command room and ran into Jackson. His buddy was headed out for a night of drinking.

“Want to go?” Jackson asked.

“I have something else I need to attend to.”

“Sure, I’ll see you later.” Jackson bumped his fist before taking off.

The sadness from losing Brady still hung in the air. He saw it in the faces of his friends, heard it in their voices. It was difficult to get over losing men like Brady. He’d never get used to losing his buddies.

The need to see Shannon grew. He called her after he dressed, but she didn’t answer. Panic flared.

“Jesus Christ, woman, where are you?”

Lance stepped in and paused. “Can’t get hold of her?”

“No, she won’t answer.”

“How long has it been? Didn’t you just get back?”

Striker blew out a breath and pulled a beer from their refrigerator. “Yeah, it hasn’t been that long. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

He took a long draw of the beer, watching as Lance grabbed his own and held it up so they could clink bottles. The sharp click reminded him of when he’d met Shannon. Maybe it had been too good to be true. Maybe, just maybe, she wanted nothing to do with him ever again.

13

Shannon had developeda pattern of staying late at school most nights because she didn’t want to be home. She left in the early-morning hours, trying to spend as little time as possible with her dad. Graduation day couldn’t come soon enough for her. A small part of her wanted to blow off her schoolwork, but she put in too much work to breeze through the end not caring. Because she did care, probably too much. If she passed with anything over a forty, she’d still be the top grade inthe class. Maybe it was pride, or just her desire to do well, either way, she wanted the top grade.

Her father hadn’t changed much, not really, he just became more intense. He added chores to her busy schedule, then tried to make her life hell when she couldn’t possibly get them done. And he didn’t add them and let her know; he would wait until she was almost ready for bed before he told her some stupid task had to be accomplished before she headed to bed. Then he’d spew condescending rants at her. She was tired of it all and wanted to escape.

It was the Sunday before her last week of school, and she was in the middle of studying for her tests when her dad barged into her room, his eyes bright.

“Get out here, now.”

She glanced up, wishing she could tell him no. It was easier to give in to his crazy demands. Soon she’d be gone, and he wouldn’t be able to rule her life. She set her books aside, knowing she still had at least two hours of studying to get through all the information. The two tests on Monday weren’t as hard as the one she would have on Tuesday, but she still wanted to make a good grade

“Hurry up,” her dad barked when she was midway down the hall.

“I’m coming.” She stepped into the den,thinking when she moved out, she’d never use brown and oranges like her father had. The room was depressing and dark. She paused a few steps into the room as she spied a stranger. Panic flared. What was her father up to? The guy was older, his frown not doing him any favors in making him look decent. A yellow stain trailed down his shirt, over his keg-sized belly and onto the leg of his pants. The grease slick in his hair scared her. She wouldn’t want to touch his hair.

“Get over here,” her father growled, anger tinging his voice.

She hesitated. Would he hit her again? She moved deeper into the room, keeping her distance from her dad and the stranger.

“Who is this?” she asked, worry increasing at his frown.

“He’s Bruce. He owes me. Said he’d marry you.”

She shook her head, fighting the rising panic. Not in a million years would she date some stranger her father brought in, and she sure as hell wouldn’t marry him, even if he looked amazing. That wasn’t how marriage worked in her mind.

“I’m not marrying him.” Her voice shook, and she hated that he could hear her fear.

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