Honor (Book one, Blackstone Series. Spin off of the Broken Trilogy)

Chapter one

PROLOGUE

Mark Lopez, 7 Years Old

Her body lay sprawled in the usual spot, sunk into the dirty yellow couch that smelled of pee. Her dress was covered in vomit, and her breaths were shallow. Most kids would have been scared to see their mother like that, but not me. I really preferred it this way; I couldn't hear her scream, couldn't feel her hateful stare, and most of all, I couldn't feel her fists when they landed on my slight, bony frame.

My belly hurt, though. It always did. We didn't bother to go into the kitchen in the mornings. There was no point, as Mom never got up before twelve. The truth was the world would be better without her in it. I stuck two fingers into the side pocket of my book bag, pulled out a small piece of Hubba Bubba, and popped it in my mouth, hoping I could trick my belly into thinking it was full.

This was the sad, sick, twisted reality of my childhood...my life.

I took one last look at her and closed the door behind me. At least I had about five hours of peace before being subjected to my mother's usual hangover.

CHAPTER ONE

Location: Mexico Coordinates: Classified

Mark

I ran as fast as I could. The bullets were getting closer, one whipping by my head. My feet pounded the dirt, making a small dust trail that gave up my location. I dove into a gully where I hastily reloaded and moved myself into a better position. The sun was blinding. I pulled out a tube of paint and ran a smudge under each of my eyes to relieve the glare.

"Raven One to Raven Two, what is your location?"

Cole's voice commanded over the radio.

I pushed the tiny button on my neck. "Raven Two to Raven One, northwest, three yards from the barn."

"Copy that, Raven Two. Fox One is heading to you. Cover him."

"Copy that, Raven One, cover Fox One."

I scanned the horizon then clicked my radio to let Paul know all was clear. Paul popped up seemingly out of nowhere and ran low across the field, weapon held to his eye in case of a threat.

Then I saw it—the flash from the barrel of a gun. I knew from its location it was not a Blackstone member. It was one of them. I licked my lips and pulled the trigger, spraying bullets in the direction of the flash. The man's body plowed backward then fell out of sight.

Paul dove to the ground, tucking into a ball as he rolled to my feet and smiled his thanks up at me.

"Nice. Raven Two, move to next location," Cole instructed.

"10-4, Raven One." I nodded for Paul to go first.

Paul checked his gun before he jumped up and ran the rest of the way to the barn. Once John sent a click over the radio indicating all was safe, I took a quick look around, then moved into position and started to run.

My mind cleared. Nothing mattered when you were in this situation. Live, or die tryin'.

I knew the moment it hit. Sadly, no amount of gear would stop these bullets. On the street, they're called "cop killers." They pierce through any armor, including the type I wore. I felt the bullet as it tore into my flesh, landing right around my kidney. It burrowed deep and lodged into the muscle.

There was nothing I could do but try to turn off the pain and run for cover. I heard Cole's gun fire in the direction of the shooter.

The buzz over the radio didn't register in my brain. I was almost there, but nowhere close to where the chopper was. Run, just run.