1
Spence
Some men will happily spend their lives in pursuit of freedom and victory. For his brothers. For his team. For his country. He’ll protect those he loves, lay down his life if need be, or wield a pair of pliers to exact revenge on those that deserve it. He’ll train those younger, smaller, newer than he, so they too can be strong and smart, and he’ll carry out orders without question, because those that handed them down are part of his trusted circle.
That circle is small, and is blood-in only.
Anyone that sits at his dinner table has already gone to war with him, so they’re trusted without exception. Or they’re a loved one of one of his war friends, so they too are trusted without exception.
There’s no doubt for that circle, no second guessing, no wondering, because blood-in is blood-in, and when your brother is ripping a rapist’s testicles out of his body with a smile on his face, you know he’s the guy you want at your table.
My brothers have found love; they’ve found their peace, their humanity. They’ve found what they consider the holy grail of happiness. But me… I get one better. I’m all of those things listed above, but I get new ass in my bed every single night, and no awkwardness the next morning once that cab has picked them up and escorted them off my property.
I’ve found my holy grail too, and it tastes so sweet.
* * *
“Shooter one, checking in.”
I glance across the massive clearing spread out ahead of me, peering through the deep shadows beyond where the flood lights can reach, and catch sight of my target, covered from head to toe in camouflage, and holding a high-powered rifle. He races for cover as I stretch my finger toward the trigger and count through his steps.
Three… two… I’ll make the shot, and–
I hesitate for a single second, just long enough for him to escape behind cover.
“Fuck. I had him.”
“But you lost him.” Kane Bishop’s cutting tone crackles through my earpiece. “What the fuck are you doing, man? Are you here with us, or are you pulling your dick? Soph could do a better job than you.”
“I can hear you little bitches.” Sophia Solomon’s angelic voice is a direct contrast to her words.
She’s our cute little ballerina, but she’s also my sister in arms, and savage when we have work to do. Merciless, petty, genius, and hot too. I’d take her for a spin in bed any day she offered, complete with ropes and blindfolds, but she’s with Jay, and he’d be all about that nut-cutting life if I tried.
“You guys have your own target,” she reminds us. “I’m busy over here with mine, so stop bringing me into your shit unless you’ve got something that’ll impress me.”
“I love you, Sugar Plum.” Jay Bishop’s laughing voice annoys every man on this op, because he never takes his job seriously. “It turns me on, listening to you work.”
“Shut up!” Kane snaps so loud, it rings in my ear. “Can we focus? Do some work, and stop touching your dicks.”
“Calm down, Bish.”
It’s almost like deer hunting, when a buck races between trees and hopes to live. Similarly, my target darts from his cover and aims for the next. I slow my breath and focus on the dog tags around his neck.
Counting his steps, I wait for my chance, then squeeze the trigger. I nod when I hit the center of his broad chest. This isn’t a high adrenaline sport for me like it once was. It’s just… breathe, aim, fire, move on.
“Target down, and I haven’t touched my cock yet.”
“Good job, shooter.” Kane moves so the twigs beneath his body crackle. “We’ve got three more. Then we can go home.”
“You really should calm down,” Soph murmurs. “Jess is safe. I have her in my scope.”
“Don’t have her in your scope!” he explodes. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”
“I’m not gonna shoot her, psycho. I was just checking in.”
“My pregnant fiancée is having contractions, and you figure aiming a fucking weapon at her head is a good idea?”
“Shooter one!” Eric’s shout adds more ache to my brain. “Focus! And take your scope off Sophia. She’s one of us.”