Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I’ve been here one week and everyone has treated me like an outsider. All of them. None of the guys in my house even bothered to try and include me in their routines.
I showed up for PT every morning. I did all the training. I helped Ryan in the woods with his ditch digging. He’s laying pipes or something. Who knows, who cares. But there was no chatter or joking around with the guys in my unit. And I don’t even have a dog. Not that I came here expecting one, but it’s hard to not be jealous when everyone else in the entire place has a fucking dog.
Even Amon’s kid has a puppy to train.
So I don’t know.
Is this whole thing a mistake? Should I just pack my shit and move on? I mean, if they can’t trust me, I can’t trust them. It’s that simple. And that means this whole thing is a waste of time. My time, their time, everyone’s time is being wasted.
We don’t stop for lunch, but even so, it’s early evening by the time we get back to Trinity County. Four hours driving in, five fucking hours in that stupid research building, and then four hours back is a long day, so I’m not in the mood to do anything and my Saturday night plans involve hitting the sack.
But when we pull into Edge, every single guy is lined up along the driveway on both sides in their official units, and all of them are in dress uniform, black on black with the Edge logo and other patches they’ve earned affixed in various places. It’s not something they wear every day, especially on a Saturday night—and I don’t even have one, that’s how fucking well I fit in here—so I don’t understand what’s happening.
And then, as we pass the first group, they salute. All the units, on both sides of the driveway. I lean forward, between Collin and Amon. “What the fuck is going on?”
Neither of them answers, but Amon stops the truck and he and Collin both get out and stand in front of it, like they’re waiting for me. Nash, the fourth partner in this operation, comes up alongside them.
Am I being arrested?
I let out a long sigh, get out, and walk up to them. “What the fuck is this?”
Then, to my surprise, all three of them salute me.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
Collin steps forward, and we lock eyes. But he doesn’t say anything and then Ryan appears holding a neatly folded uniform flat in his hands, offering it to me. He yells, in his best drill instructor voice, “You’re out of fuckin’ uniform, soldier. This is an elite unit and you will respect our dress code.”
I raise my eyebrows, smiling.
“You think this is funny, you sorry-ass piece of shit? You have ninety seconds to get changed and every second you’re late, the entire team will do ten push-ups. So unless you wanna be looking over your shoulder, waiting for the retaliation that will surely come after, you had better get your ass changed now!”
I’m still smiling—and so are Collin, Amon, and Nash—when I kick off my boots, take off my clothes right there in front of everyone, and put the uniform on.
They all wait. No one says anything, and no one is keeping track of time. So I do it all right. I tuck in the shirt. I lace up the boots. And then I stand and salute.
Collin steps forward, offering me his hand. I shake it and he says, “Welcome to Edge. You had a shitty first week and that sucks. We’re all brothers here, Shep. And I’m sorry it started out this way, but it’s over now. You’re one of us.” Then he whistles and Amon’s boy steps forward, wearing his kid version of the Edge uniform, and leading his two-month-old puppy on a slip lead. He stops in front of me and hands me the leash.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“You don’t have a dog. I took your dog because we didn’t know you were coming, but everyone’s got to have a dog, Shep. So we’re gonna share. He’s the best. You’re gonna love him just as much as I do.” The little fucker actually salutes me.
And even though I’m not a dog person—or a kid person—I smile pretty big.
Amon comes over and claps me on the shoulder. “Everyone needs a dog.” Then he winks at me. “And a boy to keep him honest.”
All the men yell, raising their fists in the air, and music starts blaring over the PA system.
It’s a party.
Maybe even… a welcome home party.
Sunshine bright enough to fucking blind me wakes me up the next morning. Or is it afternoon? I open one eye, cautiously looking around. I’m on the porch of the house, which explains the sunlight, and my mouth tastes like I ate something dead last night.