Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
What's going to happen to us? They need me, and I think they know it. Did Dad try to connect somewhere without me? If they did, he’s screwed. Oh God, what has he gotten us into?
“You okay?” Shrapnel's voice is rough and gravelly.
I manage to shift myself up into a sitting position against one of the walls, though it's awkward with my hands behind me. “Yeah, I think so. I’m going to have some pretty colors if we get out of this, but they weren’t trying to hurt me. How are you?”
I had to sit and listen to them work him over when we got here. They were trying to make him beg, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction, which just made them angrier. I don't think they found the dongle, but I'm not sure. It helps that they shouldn't even know to look for it, but I don't trust anything anymore. Other than Shrapnel, Bull and Diesel.
He chuckles, which turns into a soft groan. “I'll be fine. Not my first time in a cell, and they haven't even threatened to pull out my fingernails yet.”
I shudder. “Is that a real threat or just a movie thing?”
“Do you really want to know?”
Maybe not. I wet my dry lips. “So, you told me you were in the Army, but how did you end up in the Screaming Eagles?”
“That's a hell of a situation we're in to start talking about that.” He wiggles up against the wall next to me.
“We might not get another chance to talk,” I say softly. “That makes it worth using, right? Humor me.”
He tests his bonds for what seems like the hundredth time since we were tossed in here. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right, but it’s not pretty.”
I shuffle closer to him and lean my head on his shoulder. “Real is better than pretty.”
Shrapnel leans his head against mine. “Tell me that again after. Remember when I told you that I have some, well, impulse control issues?”
I nod.
“It got worse when I got blown up.” He laughs. “Well, technically, the truck next to mine blew up. I just got blown over I suppose. It still did a number on me. I always thought I’d be career Army. That was my whole fucking plan, and it blew up with me.”
“Is that why you left?”
“Yes and no. I fell into that shitty void between A-OK, and fucked enough to get sent home. I was twenty and too stubborn to admit I was hanging by a thread, not that anyone encouraged me to look too deep, you know? I was functioning, but there was a… situation on base. One of my superiors was harassing a female soldier. He outranked her, too, and he wouldn’t fucking let it go that she didn’t want to play along. We all saw it, and he just kept escalating.” He grimaces. “I'm a rough asshole sometimes, but when you’re out in the field, you need to know that the people who are there have your fucking back. I let him know that I didn't approve.” He flexes his fingers.
“With words?”
He laughs at me. “Fuck no. Broke his face and pulled his shoulder out of its socket. Turned out the asshole's father was deep in politics. Everyone knew why I did it, but I was still the bad guy. Luckily, my CO was decent, and got me discharged on medical grounds. Last I heard the asshole was climbing the ranks and I was out on the street with no network, a temper I couldn’t control, and nothing but the money in my wallet. You'll gonna hear this story a lot, but the Eagles were my fucking salvation. I came in as a prospect four years ago with Reaper, Mad Dog and a couple others, thinking it'd be somewhere to be while I figured shit out. Now I can't imagine ever leaving.”
“Wow. If it helps, I think you're a hero for doing something.” We sit in the quiet, I can tell he’s thinking.
“I’m not… I’m not dangerous if you’re worried. Not because of that at least.”
I look up at him, surprised. “I wasn’t worried. Maybe that’s a dumb thing to say because I saw what was left of Mason, but I think if someone kidnaps and tries to kill you, it’s probably okay to get a little violent.”
“Thanks,” he says dryly.
I shift, trying to put a little more weight on my hip. This floor is hard and my butt is getting sore. “Have you ever thought about having what some of the other guys do? Sharing an old lady, I mean.”
“Of course. Quite a bit, lately.”
“Oh? She’d be a lucky woman.”
Shrapnel’s shoulders shake with a silent laugh. “I don’t know. The only brothers I can put up with enough for that sorta shit would be Bull and Diesel, and who in their right mind would want to saddle themselves with those assholes?”