BROKEN VOWS (Broken Redemption Book 1)

Chapter 1

Lucas

(16 Months Later)

After months of sleeping in my truck, you'd think I'd be excited by the prospect of sleeping in a bed. Instead, I'm anxious. Memories from the last time I tried are still fresh...

The sense of danger looming. My body on high alert, listening for the loud hissing whispers of incoming mortar fire. The fear of being killed in my sleep, of waking up to bodies, blood, and chaos all around me.

It's an aftershock from years spent sleeping in combat zones. It's a feeling I deal with most nights anyway, but there's something about the quiet stillness of a bed that intensifies it two-fold. Like the comfort is a trick. A ploy by the enemy to catch me while my guard is down. I know it's not rational. I know I'm no longer at war, but no amount of rationality can change that for over a decade, that was my reality.

It's why I left the city. While at one time New York was my refuge, returning to it after this last deployment exacerbated my symptoms. The way sound reverberates around the cement structures is too reminiscent of the sounds of war. Common noises others barely notice increased my restlessness and intensified the panic attacks to the point I almost gave in to my demons.

As soon as the doctors cleared me, I got out of there in search of peace. Since then, I've stuck to traveling the state's backcountry roads through the Adirondack Mountains. Staying in campgrounds along the way, basically living the life of a drifter survivalist.

"If the boys could see me now," I chuckle at the thought, but the sharp pang that tugs at my chest cuts my amusement short.

They can't see you now, you idiot, because thanks to you, they're all dead.

The somber reminder rubs at the raw wound that'll never heal. The guilt and pain are forever etched on my soul like a poisonous tattoo. The heinous memories and sordid details left behind a lingering filth that'll never wash clean. It's marked me as unworthy of the second chance I've been given, and it's why I struggle to believe in much of anything anymore.

God.

Fate.

The universe.

That someone like me can survive to see another day, while good, more worthy, and deserving people had to die, is testament that no higher power exists. Or at the very least, no higher power that gives a damn about what's right. We're nothing but pawns in a game where we're led to believe we control our destinies, when in reality the only thing we have any control over is our choice of when to give up and let death claim us.

And even that, you couldn't do right.

It's the gentle whine and nosing at my hand that snaps me from the dark thoughts that consume me. It makes sense he can tell when I'm slipping back. He had a front-row seat to our calamity and knows the nightmare intimately since he lived it, breathed it, and suffered for it just like I did. Forever scarred and deemed unfit to continue the mission, he and I are the same. Forever bound to one another by circumstances no one else could possibly understand.

"Thanks, boy. I'm alright." I reassure him, though it's the feel of his soft fur against the palm of my hand that reassures me. Nero is the one good thing that came out of all this. The fact he's here and still saving me now fills me with gratitude. If not for him, I don't know how I would make it through each day. A fact I'm almost certain rings true for him as well.

"We're a fucking pair, aren't we, boy?"

Coming to the intersection, I turn onto the major stretch of road that will take us away from the wild world that's become our refuge. The best thing about backcountry camping is the solitude. It's especially true during the cold months when the chill and snow keep even the most die-hard away. Out there in the wilderness, we could sleep in the truck. We could hike, hunt, fish, cook our meals, and for days, never see a single soul. It was a feeling of perfect peace. The solemn quiet I'd yearned for when I escaped urban society. But now, being forced back toward civilization, I'm overcome by a deep sense of foreboding. Aside from people and traffic, there will be lots of unknowns to contend with. Including sleeping in a bed, since people don't take kindly to drifters living out of their cars. It draws attention. Especially in a small town like Ruby Creek, and attention is the last thing I need.