Beautifully Broken (Reckless Bastards MC 1)

I grinned, pulling out two limes and slicing them onto a plate. I handed him a couple bottles of water and we went out to my yard. We sat in companionable silence for a while, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

“This is nice,” he said finally from the lounger to my right. Both of them were covered in paisley cushions with a table between them and about five feet away was a fire pit for when the desert nights turned chilly.

“Thanks.” I didn’t know if he would just start talking, or if he expected me to pull the info from him, so I poured two shots and sipped mine.

“I lost half my crew. We were on our way back from a mission and it was what it always fucking is, a damn roadside bomb. It was loud and I couldn’t see. All I could hear was the sounds of my brothers screaming in pain and gunshots. I got behind what was left of the transport vehicle and shot. I shot until I ran out of bullets and then I grabbed guns off disembodied limbs and kept shooting until someone came to save the three of us who remained.” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head, looking handsome in his moonlight anguish. “They gave me fucking medals for that shit, Jana. And I can’t stop thinking about it.”

I could hear the pain in his voice. “Tell me about them.”

“Who,” he barked out, frowning at me.

“The guys. Your brothers.”

“Why?”

I bit back a smile. “You’re very monosyllabic tonight. Because I’d like to know a little about the men who died to keep me safe.” That took all the wind out of his sails and he snatched the shot glass off the table, shooting it back like a pro.

He smiled as the memories came to him. “Jameson loved the Bulls. He grew up during the Jordan-Pippen-Rodman era and I swear that kid could tell you every moment of every game played. Garcia was first generation American but man he was proud of being Mexican. His abuela sent the best fucking salsa you’ve ever had. He made us all learn that Spanish Christmas song too,” he laughed and this time it was just a huff of amusement but it was peaceful. Reilly was a cowboy, from a big ass ranch in Texas and he would always talk about his favorite spot to sweet talk the ladies, overlooking a field of brown eyes Susan’s. Never even heard of them before him, but now I’ll never forget.”

I poured another shot into the empty glass he held, earning a grateful smile. “They sound like amazing men.”

“They were just my brothers. We all had a job to do and we did it as best as we could.”

“I’m glad you made it back.”

“Thanks,” he huffed out and leaned back, turning his gaze up to the stars. “What’s your favorite song?”

I laughed. “Free Bird. Yours?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Everyone has a favorite song.”

“I was out of the country for most of the last two decades, darlin’.”

“Right. Well then how about I put on some songs, jog your memory?” I opened a music app and let it play.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a classic rock girl.”

I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me and laid out in the grass, staring up at the night sky. “One of the first things I ever got that was mine, which was almost never, was a portable CD player. My case worker got it for me when I won the gold for Mathletes. It was used and there was one of those best of CD’s and it was classic rock. I loved it. It was gritty and it made me smile and I was hooked.”

Max laid down beside me and turned to me, I felt his gaze on me. On my right side. “Play some.” I did, starting with Free Bird. We let it play all the way through, but it was a live version so it was long, but I figured Max needed it. I don’t imagine it was easy talking about his friends, but I knew how much it could help.

“I like it. My ma used to listen to this. She loved Joni Mitchell and Fleetwood Mac.”

I grinned. “Landslide and Rhiannon are on my gardening playlist.”

“How’d you end up an accountant in Nevada?”

I sighed, and sat up to pour another shot for both of us. “Cheers.” We clinked glasses and I turned to my back and let the liquid slide down my throat. The stars twinkled beautifully. “My last foster family, Robert and Karen Sanborn were mostly good people. I thought Karen loved me, I’d been with them since I was twelve. But her husband Robert was a pervert. As soon as I turned sixteen, he started to follow me with his eyes and then literally. Then he tried to sneak into my room, but I would scream or knock things over because I knew Karen would come running.” She’d been the closest thing to a mother I could remember but it was all tainted by what came next. “I had a job doing data entry part-time because a lot of companies were working towards going digital and I worked fast and away from people. It was my last year of high school so I only attended half a day, coming home to change into business attire for work.” I sighed and picked up the bottle but Max’s big warm hand wrapped around mine. Held it within his.

“Robert was waiting for me that day. Karen wouldn’t be home for hours and it was the perfect time for him to get what he wanted. He stripped me down, cutting my school clothes off, my favorite Jim Morrison t-shirt. Anyway there I was, naked and fighting him back. He did not like that and pulled out his favorite knife. The one with the serrated edge.”

“Shit,” he groaned.

“Yeah. He tried to get what he wanted first, shoving his hand between my legs and sliding his fingers into my body. I squirmed, kicking and screaming and that made him mad. He picked up the knife and started at my eye and carved slowly in a jagged path down to my mouth. It hurt. I called 911 but passed out before they got there and woke up in the hospital.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry Jana. I’d like to fucking kill him.”