I was the last passenger to exit the plane. I gave a final adjustment to my belt buckle and waved goodbye to the blonde flight attendant. Sarah, I thought, but couldn’t remember. I did remember her taste. It still lingered in my mouth.

“I hope you enjoyed your flight.” She grinned. “And do come again.”

Damn, she was insatiable. Not only had I made it to the mile-high club, she’d taken me to the bathroom three times in the three-hour flight from California. She had a thing for soldiers, and I had a thing for pussy. It was a match made in heaven.

Hell, I’d have her pinned on the bathroom sink right now if the cleaning crew didn’t have to get inside to empty the tanks.

I flipped my new phone off airplane mode and walked up the aisle.

“You forgot this, sugar.” She held out a piece of paper with a phone number on it. “I’ll be in town for a few days.”

I smiled and tucked the number into my front pocket even though I knew I’d never call. I’d already boarded her craft several times; there was no need for a return trip.

“See you around.”

I swung my duffle bag over my shoulder. What I couldn’t carry, I didn’t need. Life was easier that way. No connections. No ties. Endless motion.

My phone vibrated—a text from Ryker. Besides my first sergeant, he was the only one who had my number.

Where the fuck are you? Big brother was light on words and big on drama.

I cleared the jetway and texted back. It takes time to put my dick back in my pants. I’ll be out in a few minutes.

A few minutes too soon. I was in no hurry to get to Fury. My life was turning into a mucky shade of shit; returning to Fury wasn’t my first choice, but it was my only choice. Until the medical board reached a decision, I was in limbo.

I grabbed my bag and walked down the corridor.

“Thank you for your service,” an older couple said.

I wasn’t surprised that they’d pegged me as military, with my army green duffle, crew cut, and the angry agitation that never left my eyes. It didn’t bother me though.

“My pleasure to serve,” I replied. I meant every word of it. I’d done eight years in the Army and was planning on another, no matter what Ryker said.

I cleared security and there he was, big and beautiful. Well, as beautiful as any man with a chip the size of a tank on his shoulder could be. He was my brother. He was family. That meant everything to me.

“Hey, Rooster.” Ryker wrapped his arms around me and swung me in a circle. Not much had changed since the last time I saw him. His bulk was still as menacing as before, only now he appeared softer—more approachable. The hardness was gone from his eyes.

“It’s been way too long,” I said. “I’ve missed you.”

He stepped back and looked me over. “You too, bro. You look amazing.”

To the unskilled eye, I was in perfect condition. I knew better; he didn’t. “I’m good,” I lied.

Ryker pulled my duffle from my hands and hoisted it over his back. “You carry this shit everywhere?” He leaned forward, forcing the duffle high on his shoulders.

“My rucksack weighs more.” I grabbed my bag back and hefted it onto my shoulder. “You’re getting soft in your old age.” Well, I was getting soft too. The weight of the sack was nothing as long as I didn’t have to run with it or walk too far. That was part of the reason I was stateside.

“I’ll show you soft when I get you back to the garage and kick your ass.”

My gut burned. “Not sure I’m ready to face Fury sober.”

“We’re staying in town tonight.” Although the nod was slight, the acknowledgment was large.

Getting me to Colorado had been a big undertaking. Getting me back to Fury would take large quantities of alcohol.

We stepped into the cold parking structure. My breath turned to fog on each exhale. And every inhale made my lungs feel like tightened fists.

Ryker clicked his key fob, and the lights flashed on an old blue Subaru.

“That’s yours?” He wasn’t even a dad yet, but he had the sedan. “Next you’ll be trading that shit in for a minivan.”

“Man, don’t emasculate me more. You already made me sell Dad’s bike. Don’t saddle me with the minivan.”

I tossed my bag in the back and climbed into the shotgun seat. Ryker and I always fought over the front seat as kids. He was older and bigger, and he often won.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of a motel. It looked decent. And without any drunks sleeping in front of the doors, it was an upgrade from the barracks in Afghanistan.

Liquor might be banned there, but men got their drink on by making it, smuggling it, or buying it on the black market. One guy’s girlfriend filled lotion and shampoo bottles with whiskey. It tasted like soapy shit, but the taste wasn’t what the troops were after. It was that moment of bliss where the alcohol took over, and nothing seemed insurmountable.

Hell, I needed a moment of bliss right now. “Let’s get a beer and catch up.” I reached for the dog tags hanging from my neck and rubbed the cold metal between my thumb and fingers. They represented the regimented life that comforted me.

After we checked in and dropped off our stuff in the room, we walked straight into a nearby bar called the Empty Keg. God help me if the name was accurate. I needed a full keg of bubbly brew and a bottle of whiskey.

Ryker slapped a twenty on the bar. “Two boilermakers.”

The grizzled bartender spilled the foam over the mugs, and I damn near drooled. What a beautiful fucking sight. “Here’s to family.” I raised my shot glass.

“Here’s to having you home,” Ryker said.

We tapped glasses, and I slammed back the shot. The burn ran all the way through my chest and curdled in my stomach.

“You know I’m just back for leave, right?” I sucked in the suds until I got to the cold beer, and then I took a long draw.

“Come on, man. You can’t run forever.” He stared at me over the rim of the mug.

“There’s nothing for me in Fury.”

Ryker flinched. My words had hurt him. “Fine, but don’t be asking me to sell anything else to help find Decker.”

“I want our family back together.” My voice was firm and no nonsense. The type of voice that sent privates scurrying for cover.

Not Ryker. He was like a stone pillar. “What’s your end game? You want to find him and then see him once every eight or ten years like you do me? Fuck you.” He slammed his beer on the bar. “You said my son or daughter would need their uncle. Did you change your mind?”

Nothing in my life was easy, including this conversation. I’d lost my parents, I’d lost my brothers, and now I’d lost my way. Hadn’t I lost enough? I didn’t want to be a perpetual victim of Fury. There were too many bad memories there. There were too many bad memories everywhere. How did I justify what I wanted when Ryker was right?

“Hey, handsome.” A tight little blonde sliding next to me saved me from further interrogation. She smelled like cigarettes and cheap perfume, but she was pretty. After spending year after year in the desert, I wasn’t picky. Just breathing earned a girl a five. Six if she had teeth, and seven if she bathed. Talking dirty got her an eight; giving head, a nine. Ding ding ding, she’d get a whopping ten if she got dressed and left before I woke up.

This one was currently a seven. “What’s up?”

Blondie trailed her too-long, too-fake nail down my chest. “New in town?”

Ryker laughed. “Boy ain’t new anywhere.” He took off to the head before I could give him a scowl.

“You know every guy who comes to this bar?” I was in Denver, for Christ’s sake. Over half a million people lived here.

“I know a few.” The chick kept looking over my shoulder, and I knew that look, and I didn’t want any trouble. I followed her gaze. The bathroom door opened, but Ryker didn’t walk out.

Lumberjack dude’s gaze zeroed in on me, or maybe the woman next to me. His pace picked up, and he seemed to grow larger as he got closer.

“Get the hell away from my woman.”

I glanced at the blonde. If the smile on her face was any indication, she was pleased with the man’s possessiveness.

“You might want to put a leash on her and keep her next to you.” I turned and faced the bar. The weathered old man behind it backed away.

“Get the fuck away from him.” Lumberjack grabbed the blonde’s hair and tugged.

She fell on her ass.

“Damnit.” I pulled myself off the stool. I hated men who thought they could rule the world with fists and bad attitudes. Being stupid was never a reason to be beaten—unless of course you were this douchebag. He was begging to be beat.

I pushed him away from her, which pissed him off more. The first punch was a doozy, but I’d felt worse, and I was ready for a little fist action.

My right would have been too powerful for this asshole, so I gave him a left jab that sent him stumbling backwards. The thing about big men was they fell hard. Bigger didn’t make you better. Bigger just made you a better target.

The woman screeched, “Don’t let him hit you, Buck!”—ironic, since she put up with his abuse, but he took her advice. A swing and miss from him, followed by a single from me, and the guy fell hard.

“Stay down, you big idiot.” Idiot was right. Buck might have had bulk, but he was lacking in brains. He came at me again.

I let the fury loose. I gave him my right, and my next punch flattened the asshole. But the shit I’d bottled for years and the adrenaline flooding my veins didn’t relent. Fist ready and legs braced, I was ready for all takers. I was ready when the big idiot tried to rise again. An uppercut and the guy was down, but I wasn’t done. Fist mid-flight, I aimed for the kidney.

“What the hell, Silas? You’re going to kill him!” Ryker yelled.

My fist froze midair. My knuckles dripped blood. My whole body vibrated with the need to release the hit on the prone man, a broken man, a man blanketed by the blonde who’d played her little game at both our expenses.

“Why should this idiot live when better people die?” I never understood why one man died and another lived.

“You don’t get to choose.” Ryker grabbed my elbow and pulled me to the bar.

I turned away. “If I did, my life would have been different.” Yep, all of our lives would have been different.