The Shepherd (The Game 6)

“He got me a job for the winter,” Maverick admitted. “I felt bad for bailing, so I kept postponing.”

Always a good solution.

“But I don’t wanna work at some fuckin’ Christmas carnival,” he added.

No, fuck carnivals. Carnivals brought back way too many unpleasant memories that still, to this day, gave me a stomachache.

I could still see Archie’s dimpled smile clear as day.

“No, you wanna be a Marine.” I pushed the images from five years ago out of my head and smiled. “Look, nothing I tell you can prepare you for boot camp—just know that it’s perfectly normal for you to wonder what the fuck you’ve signed up for the minute you’re chased off the bus in the middle of the night. I did it, your pop did it, Crew did it—we all did.”

He sighed. “Do they really shave your head?”

I let out a laugh and started driving again as the light turned green. “If that’s your biggest worry, you’ll be fine.”

“It’s not the biggest… I’m scared to fail.”

Ah, sweet kid. “That’s normal too, Mav,” I murmured. “Every emotion you’ll go through, hundreds of thousands before you have felt. You can throw up, faint, piss yourself, cry—it’s been done. You just keep going. When you fall, get up again. When lights go out, sleep. When chow is served, eat.”

“Are those your top three pieces of advice?” he asked with a smirk in his voice.

I chuckled and finally made it to the Beltway. “They’re certainly up there. But let’s see.” I had to think back. “Don’t view your drill instructor as the enemy even though you’ll hate his fucking guts at times. No one gets through the Crucible on their own. And take initiative during drills and martial arts training. You know what we say. If something goes sideways…”

He finished it brilliantly. “Improvise, adapt, overcome.”

“Attaboy. Oh, and call your mother every week.” I’d never hear the end of it from Peyton if we didn’t encourage the kids to call home.

“I’m not sure I’m gonna wanna call home anytime soon.” He lowered his voice. “AJ and Amelia want to join too.”

I barked out a laugh. Oh, that would be a fun day for Genevieve, to see her twin sweethearts head off to South Carolina. The women in our family weren’t as fond of our tradition as the rest of us—but it was really cool that Amelia might break that trend. She was fierce.

A message appeared on the dash that caused my amusement to fade quickly, and I decided it was time to wrap things up with Maverick.

“Either way, you’re gonna be a fine Marine, boy,” I said. “I’ll be there in thirteen weeks.”

I hadn’t missed the day Crew had finished basic training; I wasn’t about to miss Mav’s either. Or any others who might follow.

“Thanks, Uncle Greer. And I can call you if I need to, right?”

“Day or night,” I promised.

We ended the call shortly after, and then I clicked on the message from Corey’s Top, having only seen the preview earlier. I wasn’t a fan.

Corey was happy with your scene earlier, and I can take it from here. I prefer to handle aftercare for my boy on my own. –Marcus

Nope, definitely not a fan. Bad enough that Corey had wanted to leave so early, but then to receive a text from his Owner? They both needed to be taught a goddamn lesson. Aftercare wasn’t just for the sub.

CHAPTER 3

Saturday put me in a better mood. I’d spent last night at the house in Mclean, so I drove home in the morning for a good workout with my dogs. First, an hour of suicide runs up and down the forest hill behind my house, then some solid agility training, and last but not least, roughhousing and cuddles in the front yard while I took breaks from cleaning the chicken coop.

The pups had barely looked at me from their various nap-time spots when I left again. Now I was back in Mclean, ready for a night of Halloween festivities planned by brats. Nothing could go wrong when those little shits were in charge.

Last night had consisted of decorating the club area and the patio in the back, which I’d overseen like a good Sadist, along with a handful of buddies. We hadn’t lifted a finger.

I bypassed the big house and walked alongside it to get to the back. Being one of the fortunate founding members that I was, I didn’t have to worry about booking a guest room; I headed straight for my cabin.

Six of them lined the western edge of the property, and it brightened my mood just seeing them. We’d built them mostly ourselves, back in the day when the main house had been undergoing renovations. But since none of us were construction workers, we’d gone with simple A-frame cabins, and the last one was all mine.