“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth might be a good place to start. How does it feel to be back?”
Gavin put his gloved hands on his hips. “This isn’t the military.”
“Nope. You couldn’t handle the military anymore, could you?”
Gavin turned away, frustration making him hot. “I did three tours. I put in my time.”
“Yes, and then you ran away to your mountain, shutting everyone out of your life and waiting to die.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I needed to decompress.” It was a lie, and even as he said it, he knew it. He’d needed to fall apart, every cell of his beingseparating from the one next to it until his very life force stood at the brink of the ultimate decision.
I’m still here, aren’t I?
Too many men had chosen the alternative, and he understood their struggles more than he wanted to admit.
“I heard about what happened over there,” said Razorback.
Gavin shook his head. “You heard some. Not all.” No one who was there would repeat it. No way in hell. That was what happened when you did the unspeakable – you never spoke of it again, letting the words and memories eat you up from the inside out.
Razorback held out his arms, gesturing toward the mat. “Are you ready for your first match?”
“Just getting some cardio in. I’m not fighting anyone.”
Razorback raised his voice. “Cleats, come in here.”
Gavin turned to see the younger man enter the room. Cleats McClintock could have passed for Gavin ten years ago—fit, agile, young, and stupid—unaware of the blows life might hold in store. A feeling of dread made Gavin’s body heavy. “What are you doing, Razorback?” he asked, a foreboding tone to his voice.
“It’s high time you try out your skills for real, don’t you think?” Razorback was testing him, forcing him into a direct physical confrontation with the other man.
Gavin’s pulse galloped, fresh sweat breaking through his skin, an eagerness to destroy that made his thoughts stop cold. This was what he was most afraid of—waking the dragon that slept in his mind. The highly trained animal inside him that had gained the upper hand. “No. I’m not doing this.”
“Don’t you want to see if you can control it? Isn’t that why you’re here?”
Gavin removed his boxing gloves. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He headed for the door.
“The darkness,” said Razorback.
He stopped moving, aware of the men behind him. Of course he knew. Razorback knew everything, that damn son of a bitch. “And if I can’t?” He turned to face them, gesturing to Cleats with his chin. “What if I hurt him?” He walked slowly to the younger man, meeting his stare. “If I kill him?”
Cleats spoke for the first time, one side of his face hitching up into the slightest expression of self-assurance. “I’m a good fighter.”
Gavin blew out air on a bitter laugh. “That’s exactly what will get you killed.”
Razorback took a step toward them. “Or you can make a different choice. You can fight him, even gain the upper hand, and choose not to hurt him. You need to see if you can tame the darkness. Because if you can’t, there is nothing left for you. Everything you worked for, everything you’ve achieved, would be for nothing.”
His friend’s voice could have come directly from the dragon, taunting him. This was it. The first of many tests if he was to truly come back to the world he left behind. He lifted his chin, battling the demon with his determination. “All right. Let’s fight.”
Cleats nodded. Gavin put his gloves back on as they made their way to the middle of the mat, images flashing through his mind, men begging for their lives in the moments before he took them. It was his job. He was a valuable asset to the team, death a necessary evil. But he’d never tried to stop it until now. His stomach knotted as he bounced on the balls of his feet.
“Begin,” bit out Razorback.
Cleats threw the first punch, a solid blow to Gavin’sabdomen. The adrenaline in Gavin system mixed with the pain, forming a heady drug he hadn’t tasted in far too long, the old neural pathways lit up like a junkie back on the pipe. He went after Cleats instinctively, pummeling the young man in his gut, kidney, skull.
Careful.
He pulled back, giving Cleats a moment to regroup, bobbing as he waited for the next offensive. This was a game, an exercise, a trial. The tactical decisions were the point, not the final outcome. “You all right?”
