Page 51 of Rook
Havoc snorted. “Support kept your ass alive. Half your gear would’ve died in the desert without me.”
Grim lined up his next shot. “Both of you shut it. Infantry carried this whole damn country.”
Rook huffed a quiet breath. “Air Force carried all of you.”
Ledger finally spoke, calm and dry. “Some of us carried you from ten thousand miles away.”
Havoc barked a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Drone boy saving the world from an air-conditioned trailer.”
Ledger didn’t rise to it. “Still hit more targets than you.”
Grim grunted. “He’s got you there.”
Fish’s mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “Doesn’t matter the branch. We all ended up in the same dirt.”
His hands stilled for a moment. The burn scars along his jaw caught the light. “Some of us left more of ourselves there than others.”
No one argued with that. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind that came from men who had seen the same darkness and made it home anyway.
Rook reloaded, the motion automatic. Muscle memory. Years of training that never left him, no matter how much he tried to bury the parts of himself that came with it.
Ledger stepped up beside him, firing off a round that landed just outside the center ring. “You good?” he asked without looking over.
“Fine.”
Ledger didn’t buy it. Rook could feel the weight of his stare even with his eyes on the target. “You’ve been quiet.”
“I’m always quiet.”
“Quieter,” Ledger corrected.
Rook didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Ledger knew better than to push.
He hadn’t slept. Not really. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her standing in that doorway — paint on her wrist, flour on her cheek, looking at him like she wasn’t sure whether to step toward him or step back. Something about it had settled under his skin, quiet and unwelcome, the kind of feeling he couldn’t shake even when he tried.
He knew what it was. He just didn’t know what the hell to do with it.
Stone’s voice cut through the noise. “Wrap it up. We’re heading into town.”
The guys holstered their weapons, gathering brass and packing up gear. Rook moved through the motions automatically, but his mind wasn’t on the range anymore.
Town. Food. The diner.
He didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to risk seeing her again just yet. Didn’t want to feel that hit in his chest he’d felt last night.
But staying behind would raise questions he wasn’t ready to answer.
He swung a leg over his bike, the engine rumbling beneath him. The others fell into formation around him, the familiar hum of the club settling into his bones.
They rode.
Wind in his face. Road under his tires. The steady presence of the men he trusted at his back.
It should’ve cleared his head. It didn’t.
Every mile closer to town tightened something in him. Every turn made his jaw clench harder. Every stoplight made his pulse tick up a little more.
He didn’t want to see her.
