Bound By Blood: (The Betrayed Series Book 2) (25 page)

S
TARING INTO THE GLASS,
I watch a bead of condensation rolling off the side, dripping onto the table below. The pad of my thumb slowly maneuvers up then down, never once leaving the smooth surface. Lost in my thoughts, I sit sullenly, going over the events from the day before. The mind can be a dark and sinister place. One that tortures you with all of the things you should have done. A movie reel that plays continuously until you’re ready to pluck your eyes out and scream until there’s no air left in your lungs.

It’s bad enough to have to live with the fact that I failed her . . . Not able to finish my thought, I lift the glass to my mouth, drinking deeply. The glass hits the table with a loud clink. Slinking back into the chair, I scrub a hand over my face. An intense feeling of self-loathing fills me, plunging deeply into my soul. No matter how hard I try, it’s like I’m doomed to fail. First Kylee, now my team.

Her name leaves a sour taste in my mouth, the images above the door fresh in my mind. Flagging down the waitress, I order another round. Might as well get wasted. It’s not like I’d really be able to do anything, the little devil on my shoulder nags. Mentally flicking the little bastard a bird, I scowl at the table in front of me. Picking up the cocktail napkin, I begin shredding it into millions of little pieces.

“Here you go, shugga.” The waitress smiles, interrupting my napkin shredding frenzy.

“Thanks,” I grunt. She continues to hover as I stare, lost in the amber liquid. Finally, annoyed that she’s invading my surly space, I gruffly ask, “Is there something you need?”

Winking, she replies, “I should be asking you that, shugga.” My stomach flips, roiling with disgust. My Goddess is the only one to pique my interest, and quite frankly, the only woman deserving of my time. Glaring at the waitress, anger is palpable in my tone as I declare, “In no way, shape, or form will I require anything like that from you.”

Taking half a step back, her breath hitches, voice wavering minutely as she replies, “I was just being kind, big fella. No need to snap my head off.” Spinning, she turns to walk away when she stops, leveling me with a sincere smile. Her voice is soft and gentle as she says, “She’s one lucky lady. I hope she know’s how hard someone like you is to come by.” The click of her heels resonates around the room as she returns to the bar, leaving me to feel like a total ass for my behavior.

Closing my eyes, I rub my temples, willing the throbbing to subside. Hank Williams Jr. drifts over the speakers as my thumbs press harder into the side of my head. Perfect, fucking perfect. Of all the songs in the world in that ratty ass jukebox, someone had to go and choose this one. My lip curls in distaste as I listen to Hank drone on and on about blues and a tear in his beer. He had one thing right: I’m gonna keep drinkin’ until I can’t even see straight.

Releasing my head with a groan, I lift the glass to my lips, drinking down the bitter ale. Fucking song hitting the damn nail on the head. She is on my mind. Hell, she never leaves it. My gut churns. I’ve failed her. As a man, you’re supposed to protect the woman you’re with. I couldn’t even do something as simple as that. Delving deeper and deeper into my tenebrous thoughts, my body goes on autopilot.

Without a thought, I lift the mug, drinking deeply, allowing the rich amber liquid to glide down my throat. My mind strays, lost completely to my own musings as the cool brew temporarily quenches the rage amplifying inside of me. Condensation draws my eyes to the glass, swirls of thick drops hypnotizing me. Lost in a daze, I’m startled when an unyielding clutch grips my shoulder. With madness in my eyes, I spin, baring my teeth, ready to rip the throat out of anyone who dares to touch me. His grip loosens as he backs away, palms outstretched. Blinking rapidly, my vision begins to clear.

“Fuck,” I grumble, scrubbing a hand down the front of my face. Embarrassment colors my cheeks as I peer up at the Colonel.

“I-I’m really s-sorry, Colonel Parker,” I stammer, tripping over my words.

Chuckling, he extends a hand for me to shake. “Shake it and we’ll call it good.”

Swallowing my nerves, I take the man’s firm grip, shaking his hand briefly. Upon releasing my hand, he says, “Mind if I join you?”

“No, sir.”

“Good, I was going to join you anyway.” He smirks.

Snorting, I barely have time to cover my mouth before the beer I’d just swallowed comes spewing across the table. Colonel Parker’s deep belly rumble fills the Officers Club as he inclines his head back in a fit of laughter. His body quakes for several moments as he laughs uncontrollably. I stare wide-eyed, watching the Colonel with fascination. I’ve never seen him do more than smirk. Shaking his head emphatically, his breaths become even as he gazes at me with amusement.

“Thanks for that, Grant. I needed a good laugh.”

“You’re welcome . . . I think,” I say, confused. The corner of his mouth tilts up in a semblance of a smile.

“So, what brings you to the Officers Club today, sir?” I hesitantly ask.

“You.” His authoritative tone has returned, making me sit up a little straighter.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Why me, sir?”

“We’ll get to that in a minute.” He turns to the bar, flagging the waitress down. She trots over with a pleasant smile plastered on for the Colonel.

“Hey, shugga, what can I get for ya?” she drawls.

“Hello, darlin’,” the Colonel greets. Her smile flourishes, becoming at least ten times wider. The Colonel winks in response.

Rolling my eyes, I watch as they flirt back and forth for a minute before she finally says, “I sure hope you’re here to make this one cheer up.” She points a cherry colored fingernail in my direction. Biting back a feral remark, I glare at her instead.

Meeting my eyes, the Colonel says, “I’ll do my best, darlin’.” Turning, he hits her with an astonishing smile that hypnotizes her for a fraction of a second.

Stammering, she asks, “U-Um. W-What c-can I get you?”

Chuckling, the Colonel responds, “Stella on tap if you have it. If not, any craft beer on tap will be fine.” Nodding, she rushes off, face flushed.

Pointing in her direction, I say, “That . . . That wasn’t right.”

He chuckles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Narrowing my eyes, I respond, “The hell you don’t. You know what you were doing. You had that girl all bent out of shape.”

Shrugging, he responds, “Maybe.”

Shaking my head, I take a pull from my beer and watch silently as the waitress approaches. Her face is still flushed, eyes glazed, and her lips have a wet sheen to them as if she’s been constantly pulling them into her mouth. Her eyes rake over the Colonel, taking in every square inch of him. Shuddering, I suppress a groan. It’s like watching your parents have sex . . . Actually, this might be the same thing. He is my girlfriend’s dad.

Unable to fight it, I actually groan. The waitress’s cheeks flame brighter as she sets the beer in front of the Colonel, brushing his arm with her breasts. Wincing, I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to see anymore.

The Colonel laughs from across the table. “What is it that you find funny, sir?”

Authority rings from his tone as he replies, “Alex, drop the ‘sir’ tonight. Call me Kyle.” A shocked breath leaves me as my mouth falls open. Is he serious?

“Um. Are you sure, sir?”

“As a heart attack. Now, drop the ‘sir’.” His gaze penetrates mine with sharp intensity, curtailing any rebuttal I may have had.

“Yes, sir,” I say, smirking. Immediately, I follow it up with, “Last one, I swear.”

Kyle’s eyes narrow into tiny slits as he retorts, “It better be, Alex.”

“So, Kyle . . . this is gonna be weird.” I pause, taking a gulp of the craft beer. “So, you said you came here to see me?”

“I did,” he responds, meeting my gaze but leaving everything else unspoken.

My nerves light up like firecrackers on the Fourth of July, his penetrating gaze never wavering. Underneath the table, my knee begins to bounce, requiring me to use all of my mental control to focus on keeping it still. Stupid alcohol, making all of my discipline go out the window.

Clearing his throat, he asks, “How is Cooper?”

Lowering my head to hide my trembling chin, I swallow hard. Slowly, I push the mental pain aside, the wounds of failure ripping my heart to shreds. Lifting my chin, I meet his understanding gaze. Breathing deeply, I respond, “He’s good, on the mend. He’s banged up, bruises mostly. Thank God there was no internal damage. He’s resting and will be back to his old self in no time.” My voice is thick with emotion.

Nodding, the Colonel replies, “Good, he’s a good kid.”

“He is,” I agree.

Kyle’s eyes land on me, scrutinizing my every move. Shifting uncomfortably, I rub a hand on the back of my neck.

Finally breaking the silence, he demands, “What’s eating you?”

“What do you mean?” I feign innocence.

“Don’t do that. Don’t play games with me, Alex.” Traces of anger infiltrate his voice.

Letting out a heavy gust of breath, I slump back into the chair. “I’m a failure,” I mutter, letting my gaze roam to the far wall.

“A failure?” he scoffs.

Silently, I nod.

“What exactly makes you think you’re a failure, son?”

Helpless to prevent it, a humorless laugh escapes, saturating the air. Like a man possessed, I begin ticking the items off on my fingers. “Have you looked around? First, I’m unable to stop a lunatic from kidnapping the love of my life. We clearly are having a shit time of finding leads on this case. I’ve let my team down. Fuck, look what happened to Coop and Brit yesterday. And to top it all off, I’m fucking terrified history will repeat itself . . . That no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, I’m doomed to repeat the failures of my past.” Blowing out a breath, I fight to regain control of my riotous emotions. Tears beat at the backs of my eyes, begging for release.

Kyle’s gruff voice interrupts my mental break down. “Alex, you really need to stop thinking about yourself.”

His words make my head snap forward, my jaw clenching painfully tight.

“What the fuck? I’m not thinking about myself!” I practically shout.

Raising an eyebrow at me, he stares at me with amusement. “Really?” he asks dryly.

“No,” I sulk.

“So, you’re not telling me this isn’t about you?” he questions.

“No. Yes. Fuck, I don’t know anymore,” I say, exasperated.

He leans forward, closing some of the distance. “Listen, you’re a great leader, you have a loyal team, and they look up to you and respect you. They do not blame you for anything that happened yesterday. None of us do. No one knew that was a planned attack. Hell, there was no way we could have known.” His words cease briefly, anger etched into his expression.

“However . . . you are taking entirely too much of this situation and placing it squarely on your shoulders. This is war, Alex. Bad guys aren’t the only ones who get injured. Heroes get killed in action or injured on a daily basis. It’s part of our job description. It’s what we signed up for, something we have to learn to live with. It’s what makes us who we are.” Pausing, he takes a drink.

Returning his glass to the table, he examines me closely. “Now, about my daughter. The love of your life, huh?”

The desire to crawl under the table and hide from his probing gaze pelts me from every angle. Gulping, I audibly swallow, my Adam’s apple bobbing in my throat. “Y-Yes, sir. That’s what I said,” I stammer, my nervousness evident in my tone.

Chuckling, he responds, “Stop calling me sir. What did you mean you were afraid you would repeat the mistakes of your past?”

My brow furrows. This isn’t something I want to share. It’s a part of my past that very few people know, and not something I’d like to share with my girlfriend’s dad. Still staring at me with that unrelenting gaze, I can tell he’s not going to waver. Pressing my lips together, I glance around uneasily. My eyes land back on the Colonel, who patiently waits, observing my nervousness with careful observation.

Choosing my words carefully, I say, “My first marriage was less than stellar. She’s nothing like Kai . . .” I pause, gauging the Colonel’s reaction. He gives a brief flicker of a smile at her nickname. There and gone, vanishing as quickly as it came.

My neck tenses. Cracking it, I continue. “Polar opposites. That’s how I would explain them. Night and day. Kai, she’s, well, she’s a goddess compared to Sabrina.” I snicker, remembering her reaction to Goddess.

“What’s got you giggling like a schoolgirl?” My gaze shoots to his. Merriment lines the depths of his cerulean eyes. Shit, I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped talking.

“It was just a memory, sir . . .” My words trail off as I’m lost in thought once again.

“Well, don’t leave an old man hangin’. And stop calling me ‘sir’,” he playfully snaps.

“Yes, sir.” I give him a mock salute. He laughs, settling back into his chair.

“I was just remembering how she reacted the first time I called her Goddess.” Kyle’s breath expels audibly. His voice is thick, riddled with an unnamed emotion as he tosses out, “I bet she took that well.”