Saviour: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel (Savior Book 3) by Natasha Thomas

house to talk to me. He’s broken my trust. He’s broken my heart, and I don’t think I can fix that. I can fix a lot, but not that. That’s too much. Too deep a wound.
     
    Crawling out of the bathroom once I know he’s gone, I heard the front door shut ten minutes ago, I huddle under my blankets and sob. Inside a minute I find myself wrapped in my sisters’ arms, and my sobs get louder. This should be me comforting her not the other way around. Stroking my hair Tilly says,
    “It’s going to be okay sissy. We’ll make this okay, you and me. Remember we can do anything if we stick together.”
     
    I used to say that to Tilly all the time when she was younger. When she thought things would never get better. When she was missing our parents’ desperately. When she was sad because everything changed I would tell her we can do anything if we stuck together. And it was true. We’ve made it through a lot. I can only hope that this will be another one of those times.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Hunter
     
    Awake and Alive – Skillet
     
                  I’ve had this recurring dream, its nightmare really, since I came home from my last deployment. I never knew why I was having it until now. Now it makes perfect sense.
     
    I enlisted in the Navy when I was eighteen, nothing more than a cocky teenager with an ego the size of Texas. Nothing lasts forever though, so basic training, SEAL selections, and endurance training coupled with every advanced training course that was possible to take kicked my ego, and overconfidence in the ass in less than a minute. Surviving that shit is supposed to prove that you can endure any, and all conditions. Torture, hand-to-hand combat, and interrogation are all meant to be a walk in the park after what we’d just been through. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
     
    I met guys that experienced a number of war time atrocities, and absolutely nothing prepared them for a human beings capability for cruelty in the event of war. Needless to say I came back stateside after my first deployment with a completely new appreciation and deep respect for what soldiers are encountering during the ‘War on Terror’. Maybe all the training, the abuse by Drill Sergeants, and our superiors didn’t beat all the ego out of me, because I didn’t call it quits after that first deployment. No. I returned for four more. Spending sleepless nights wishing I hadn’t after each and every one.
     
    Everything was fine throughout my first three tours, well as fine as being enlisted in the Navy during wartimes could be, it was the fourth deployment to Kandahar’s outlying provinces that fucked me up. That mission categorically changed how I view life. Where I was headed with mine if I ever got out. The dream stemmed from that mission, and I’d do anything to remove it from the highlight reel in my head.
     
    We’d just bunkered down for the night in what used to be a house, but now resembled nothing short of ruins that would probably only withstand a strong gust of wind. My platoon, SEAL Team 3, and I were able to sleep anywhere, it never mattered much. You got sleep where, and when you could, taking shifts to keep watch, and scout for the enemy. A necessary part of the job, but one that meant even when sleep deprived for days you had to be on the ball so your team mates could catch what little rest they were dur. This wasn’t even the worst place we’d ever had to catch some Z’s.
     
    James Falconi, or Plugger he got his name because as our only medic trained team member and he’d plugged up more holes in all of us than we ever cared to remember, and I took first watch between eleven-PM and three-AM. Watches were set up in four hour blocks with a minimum of two team members per watch. It’s easier to stay awake when you have an asshole throwing shit at you if you start to drift off.
     
    Plugger and I took turns patrolling the area surrounding the deserted dwelling using our comms units to