Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Bishop’s face broke out into a grin. “Hell yeah, it does. And I’ll remember that when you stop by the farm in a few months, asking for the best tree I’ve got, fucker.”
Bishop had bought a Christmas tree farm damn near right out of high school. His grandfather had died and left him a shit-ton of money. If I had to guess, I would say Bishop most likely didn’t even need to work. His grandfather had been some big hotshot real-estate guy in Boston. Practically owned half the property in the city.
When Bishop found out that a local farmer who had been growing Christmas trees on his family’s land for nearly three generations was in financial trouble, he stepped in and bought it. Even let the old man keep living in the family homestead. Bishop had my granddad build him a large log cabin house up on the tallest point of the farm. From his perch on the hill, he had a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the Christmas tree farm, as well as Boggy Creek Valley. He and Abby, his ex-wife, had gotten married up on that hilltop.
“How’s old man Redmen?” I asked.
Bishop’s shoulders slumped. “He died a few months ago.”
I winced. “Dude, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Bishop gave me a nod. “No worries, the old man was ninety-two and lived a damn good life and he didn’t have any regrets.”
“That’s the type of life a man should lead,” Mitch said as he folded his cards and stood.
Adam lifted his beer. “I’ll drink to that.”
We all did the same, and when Hunter’s gaze met mine, he said, “To no regrets.”
“To no regrets,” we all repeated. I held Hunter’s locked gaze. In one single look, he was attempting to tell me something, but for the first time in our friendship, I couldn’t tell what it was exactly.
“I’m heading out to smoke,” Mitch said. “You want to join me, Aiden? Talk shop a little?”
Bishop groaned. “Christ. Two Navy SEALs. The women are going to fawn over you both.”
Mitch laughed as I tossed my cards on the table. “Fold.”
I felt Hunter’s gaze on me as I stood to leave, and when I turned to look at him, he wore an expression I couldn’t read. If he knew what had happened between me and Willa, he wasn’t really letting on he knew.
Outside, Mitch pulled out a cigarette and offered the pack to me. I held up my hand. “No, thanks.”
After lighting the thing and taking in a long drag, he exhaled. “I never smoked until I got out. I truly believed I had served my time and was ready to move on.”
Leaning against the porch rail, I asked, “You don’t think that now?”
He shrugged. “No. I know I did the right thing, but it feels like a piece of me is missing. I always felt…” He laughed and shook his head. “I always felt content when we were out on an op.”
I nodded. “Like the flying bullets settled your racing mind?”
His eyes met mine. “Exactly. That rush, that common bond I shared with my brothers. I miss them.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m forging a new brotherhood with the guys on the force, but it’s not the same.”
I nodded.
Then he looked over my shoulder to make sure we were alone. “It’s different for you, though. It’s a hell of a lot harder being a Tier 1.”
“You ever try out for it?” I asked.
He laughed. “Hell no. I saw enough shit without being thrown into the deeper shit.”
Mitch stared off for a moment or two before he looked at me. “It took me awhile to move past it all. But I did. If you ever need to talk or…”
“I don’t. I mean, I won’t. It’s all good.”
Mitch took another drag and slowly shook his head. “Adjusting back to civilian life isn’t easy, O’Hara. Especially for a guy like you. I know you’ve been out of the game for a few months now with the knee injury and all, but I’m not stupid enough to believe you’re not haunted by the same torment I was. Even still, to this day. We don’t simply forget, Aiden. We learn to control the demons.”
Suddenly, I realized what was going on. How in the hell did Mitch know about my knee injury? If he had been out a few years, how and why would he even know? “Did Hunter put you up to this?”
He frowned. “Put me up to what?”
“This little pep talk bullshit.”
He didn’t answer me, only looked away.
“Listen, I’m glad to meet you, Mitch. I hope we can be friends. But what I want is for everyone to keep their goddamn noses out of my business.”
Mitch held up his hands. “Dude, one brother to another. I didn’t mean anything, and Hunter didn’t ask me to talk to you, I swear that.”