Page 13 of Home for Justice
“James Devlin.”
And then the last man stepped forward, and Tyler froze.
“Cory? Cory Brighton?”
The man’s eyes lit up. “Tyler? Holy shit, man! I had no idea you were Charlie’s grandson! I only met him a couple of times at meetings. But damn, it’s good to see you.”
They embraced, their fists pounding each other’s backs.
After pulling back, Cory rested his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “I’m sorry as hell to hear about Charlie. I’d heard he had one living relative, but I didn’t connect the dots. Anything you need, man… anything at all, call me.”
“Thanks, Cory,” Tyler said, his throat tight with sudden emotion.
The older members made way for the newer group as they took their seats. Before leaving, the chaplain clapped Tyler’s back again. “I think we’ve got everything covered for the funeral in two days. You and I can text or call if anything comes up. Charlie will have a proper graveside service, then we’ll come back here. One thing Charlie never missed was a night we had food.”
Tyler chuckled, grasping the chaplain’s hand firmly. “I can’t thank you enough. Knowing the Legion and the funeral home are handling this together is a huge relief.”
“Charlie was one of us,” the chaplain said, his voice proud and solemn. “You need to focus on yourself and everything you must do, and we’ll take care of the rest.”
With respectful nods and a few lingering goodbyes, the older Legion members filed out, their parting words offering a quietkind of comfort. Soon, only Tyler remained with the group of men who had recently entered.
Cory looked at Tyler again with a smile on his face. “Been a long fucking time since Benning.”
Tyler nodded, energized by seeing an old face from his Ranger days. “Benning, Dalonega, Eglin…”
“Hell, I was First Battalion… Georgia was my home base for a long time.”
“Second… glad to get out of the hot South,” Tyler said. His eyes held Cory’s for a moment, thinking of their shared camaraderie.
“These are my coworkers.” Cory gestured to the seated group.
Tyler looked at them again, reading the posture, the alert eyes, the way they all carried themselves. There was a calm to them, but it wasn’t casual. It was the scrutiny of men who’d seen combat, lived through the pressure, and knew how to be both sharp and still.
“Logan is our boss,” Cory added, catching the spark of curiosity in Tyler’s eyes before it turned into a question.
Tyler’s gaze flicked over to Logan Bishop, the dark-haired man with the quiet intensity. He didn’t smile much, but there was a steadiness in his eyes, a leader’s calm. Tyler gave a respectful nod, not pushing for more than was offered.
He tried to focus on the present, Charlie’s funeral, and the decisions waiting for him back at the house, but the slight flare of curiosity continued to burn in the background.
“Are you just on leave?” Cory asked, voice casual.
Tyler shook his head. “Retired. Just hit my twenty and was already in the out-processing phase when I got the call about Gramps.”
The group nodded, understanding the weight of timing and transition. They talked easily, moving through memoriesof shared military culture and swapping stories in shorthand only those who served would follow. Tyler didn’t feel he was being evaluated, but he noticed how Logan appeared to listen thoughtfully. When Tyler mentioned he had finished his Ranger career as a sniper instructor, there was a subtle shift in the group’s posture.
He caught the quick, silent exchange between Cory and Logan. A shared look. Nothing was said aloud, but enough passed between them to make Tyler wonder.
Logan stood and reached out his hand again. “We’ll head out and let you two catch up. We’ll see you at the funeral, Tyler. And what Cory offered goes for any of us. You need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
One by one, the men leaned in to shake Tyler’s hand, each one offering a quiet condolence before heading toward the door. Tyler watched them go, the door clicking shut behind them. He and Cory sat back down, alone now in the quiet of the Legion Hall.
“Are you able to talk about your work?” Tyler asked, his curiosity finally winning out.
Cory grinned, leaning back. “Logan started Lighthouse Security Investigations Montana—LSIMT for short. The original branch is out in Maine. There’s another on the West Coast now, too.”
Tyler raised an eyebrow. “Security and investigations?”
“Yeah. High-end stuff. Personal protection, but not the bodyguard-to-the-stars jobs. Tactical extraction, surveillance, background ops. All the work’s legal, but not always easy. The team is handpicked. All former special forces or intelligence. Logan doesn’t just take resumes. He watches people. He studies who they are, not just what they’ve done.”
