Sanctuary Found (Pelican Bay 2)

As a kid, I’d used reason to approach difficult things. But somewhere along the line reason hadn’t had the answers I’d wanted. Like there’d been no logical reason our parents would spend their days playing the role of bible-loving, morally perfect community leaders and their nights losing themselves in the lure of alcohol and drugs. No amount of reasoning had changed their behavior, so Dallas and I had been forced to adapt to it.

Like with the sparkplugs.

That change had carried through to the army, but fortunately my instincts had still been my strongest ally in those situations. But with Dallas and Isaac, I’d leapt to conclusions which’d had ugly consequences.

What do you want from me?

I read Dallas’s message and felt something inside of me tear open. A million answers came to mind, but they were selfish ones and pretty much all ran along the lines of, I want you back.

But I didn’t say that.

Instead, I said, “I want you to have the life you should have had ten years ago. I want to go back to that moment and do what I should have done.”

What should you have done?

“Told you how fucking glad I was that I hadn’t lost you too,” I said. I managed to quell the pain until my insides felt numb and empty. I just needed to make it a little longer and Dallas would leave, and I could lose myself in a bottle. Tomorrow I’d get on the road again and head for Oklahoma. The idea of getting on a crowded bus threatened to have all the alcohol I’d consumed come back up, so I drew in a breath and reminded myself that I had two perfectly good legs that could get me to Oklahoma. Yeah, it’d take a hell of a lot longer and be cold as hell, but that was actually a good thing.

“Did the kid and his brother leave?” I asked. I knew Isaac technically wasn’t a kid, but he had one of those faces that could pass for a teenager’s.

Except the eyes.

He had old eyes.

Like he’d seen too much already in his young life. I’d seen more than my share of eyes like that in the military.

No, he’s working at the center for a little while. Nice trick with his car.

I nearly threw up right then and there, but I managed to keep my emotions buried. I had a strong feeling that for whatever reason, Isaac hadn’t laid into my brother about the car, or surely Dallas would have said something by now. And if the young man was working at the sanctuary…

“Little fool doesn’t know what’s good for him,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand like I didn’t care what Isaac did or didn’t do. But inside, my nerves were skittering all over the place. If he’d taken a job with Dallas, did that mean he was staying for a while? Had he told Dallas and Nolan what kind of trouble he was dealing with? Would he be able to earn enough money so he’d never have to let a sick fuck like Tomlinson touch him again?

Dallas handing me his phone was a good distraction from my thoughts.

What happened to you the night of the meeting, Maddox?

“I would have thought it would be obvious to you,” I said. It’d been two nights since the meeting, but it felt like it’d just happened. Of course, most nights were like that if I didn’t have the buzz of alcohol to stave off the nightmares.

PTSD?

I searched out my glass of whiskey and downed what remained in the glass. “Textbook case,” I said as I turned my attention toward the fire. God, there’d been fire everywhere that day. “Roadside bomb in Mosul. Overturned Humvee, heavy fire, six of my men killed instantly. Three more didn’t last long enough to be evac’d. One guy got out besides me. I’m fucked up in the head, he’s got no legs. Purple Heart medals for both of us. Textbook,” I said bitterly.

Is that why you don’t drive?

I couldn’t help but look at him in surprise. “How did you know?”

Just a guess. What are your plans?

I needed to tell him I was heading out the next day, but for some reason, the words got caught in my throat. He caught me off guard when he lowered himself to the floor.

I’d like to tell you about my plans. But I want to start by telling you something that someone I love very much and who I once hurt very badly told me not long ago.

I read the message and nodded. It didn’t take a genius to know he was talking about Nolan. Even without saying the man’s name, he positively shone when he mentioned the person he loved so very much. I used the several minutes it took him to type out his message to study him. Dallas had always been so different from me. Much more easygoing but driven as hell. But he’d also had a harder time with the demands our parents had put on both of us to be perfect–to always present that perfect outer image.