BROKEN VOWS (Broken Redemption Book 1)

Chapter 5

Lucas

As I feared, the peace I've grown accustomed to over the past few months is fleeting. The pressure in my chest grows tighter and tighter the closer we get to our destination.

Feeling the progress I've made over the past few months dwindle away is demoralizing, especially since a part of me hoped the Navy docs were wrong. That with time and a lot of hard work, I'd someday return to the man I used to be. The sure-footed, unflappable operator who could walk into the most dangerous of situations and execute the mission to plan. The fact my heart is pounding out of my chest at the mere thought of entering a sleepy little town, all but confirms that part of me is gone. For a man like me, whose purpose and identity were built around my career as a Navy SEAL, this setback feels like a sentence worse than death.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I take a deep breath before exhaling loudly. The nervous energy surging through me makes it feel like the world around me could come crashing down at any moment. Since choosing to return to this place, I'm back to teetering on the edge, waiting for that final blow that will push me over the point of no return.

It's a fucking struggle. Like swimming against the current with your feet and hands tied behind your back, except much worse. For unlike in my drown-proofing training at BUD/S, that inner voice that evokes calm and a calculated plan for survival is replaced by demonic voices that question what the hell is the point. Why fight? Why struggle to survive if all that is left of my life is this hopeless and bottomless pit of suffering?

Thankfully, the feel of Nero's cold nose poking at my shoulder pulls me out of the dark thoughts before they fully take hold. It's why he's here.

"I'm good. We're good." I try to reassure us both, the warm softness of his fur under my fingers helps settle my unease. "Everything's going to be alright. We go in, do some recon, then lie low until it's time. I got your six, and you got mine."

I pat his head with my free hand one last time, keeping the other on the steering wheel. Determination courses through me as I work through the plan. Focus on the mission and trust in the team. That's how we both made it through our military tours, and that's how we'll make it through this weekend.

"Keep it together, Holt. It's only two nights." I tell myself.

Tapping the steering wheel nervously with my thumbs, I notice the Welcome to Ruby Creek sign coming into view. My eyebrows draw together, as once again I question my decision to stay at the Old Mill Inn. At one time, the Inn was run by an old friend of Dad's, but since the old guy would have to be in his 90s, I'm counting on the fact he should have retired by now. With luck, whoever runs the place won't recognize me.

As for the rest of the town, I'll do my best to not venture out during the day when most of the townspeople are out and about. It's doable but will prove a challenge, given that Main Street is the business district of the town. Everything from the Inn, to the local bar, the grocery store, the barbershop, the diner.... just about every business is located off or near that major stretch of road. It's a guarantee that someone will notice my arrival, which means it won't be long before news of the derelict drifter with a dog makes its way through the town. I was 17 years old the last time I was here, so I'm hoping that buys me at least some anonymity. If not that, then the homeless mountain man look I've adopted in my depressive state will hopefully do the trick.

"Of all the weekends, why did it have to be this one?" I ask Nero, who cocks his head to the side like he's trying to understand what I'm babbling on about.

I had every intention of staying outside the town limits in one of the neighboring campgrounds. That plan went to hell thanks to the warming spring weather and the fact it's Mother's Day weekend. Every campground and hotel in a 70-mile radius of Ruby Creek was sold out. The Old Mill Inn was the only one with availability, thanks to a last-minute cancelation-per the man who confirmed my reservation.