Page 145 of Nemesis

So…wasI suicidal?

Probably.

Now, I’m not so sure.

“I’m not going to kill myself this week.” I think that should be enough for now. Enough commitment. “But I think you owe us something. You met Reese in the Marines, you said.”

“We were in the same squadron,” Kade says. “He saved my life, so when he went off the radar two years ago, I knew something bad happened. We stayed in contact up until then.”

I frown. “You’re how old?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“When did you join?”

He leans back, seeming to settle in.

“Fresh out of high school. I didn’t know anything about anything, and my pops thought it would be a good idea for me to have more structure.” His expression darkens. “He and my mom got divorced when I was eight. I lived with her, and he had vocal opinions about that. It did create the drive in me to go make something of myself… and I wanted to impress him. Or at least prove that I could do something with my life.”

Huh. “And you deployed.”

He dips his head.

“While you were fighting for your country, we were…” I gesture around. “I guess Sterling Falls doesn’t really seem too bad to you, does it?”

He sighs. “Every war is different, Saint. Doesn’t make it any less barbaric.”

That’s what we are, then. Barbarians.

We fight tooth and nail for this town, to make any sort of progress, and we chip and splinter our bones on the asphalt to gain any purchase we can.

It’s not fair.

“We should stretch our legs,” Kade says. “Come on.”

I glare at him, but I still follow. To the elevator and downstairs. We head out, and he takes a right. We pass out of view of the security camera, past the blood Reese left behind. Ifwe keep going down this street, we’ll end up at the university. And on the other side of that is the sheriff’s office.

Two blocks over is Starlight.

And, surprisingly, that’s where Kade goes.

He stops outside of the glass storefront, then glances at me. “Do you have a key?”

I scowl and jerk my head in the form of a nod. I open it up and step through, ignoring the way he follows close behind. I turn on the lights, and my skin tingles. I don’t like him as my shadow, I don’t likehim,period. The fact that he came here?—

“Are you trying to poke around my head? Psychological shit?” I plant my hands on my hips. “I’m not falling for it.”

He appraises me. “It’s not getting to you?”

“No,” I snap.

His dark eyes bore into mine for too long, and then his attention shifts. Like a gust of wind knocking the tension out of my muscles, I exhale. Relax.

He takes his time looking around. The wall of framed drawings, photos, newspaper and magazine clippings. The cover I was on for a tattoo magazine, framed dead center, now seems ostentatious and reaching.

The white couch has sat many people waiting for their appointments. Even some hockey players and their wives, which was a pretty cool experience. Mainly because they’re about as crazy as my friends—not openly, but they just had that vibe.

Like Kade.

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