Soliders Mercy
- Reads 662
- Votes 17
- Parts 21
MatureOngoing5h 47m
Last published Tue, Sep 28, 2021
No fairytales, no vampires, no werewolves. just the fact that men who can love you protect you can't be found in the same man, unless he's your dad, gross I know, right!. As a teen, I emersed myself in love books and movies but the real world calls now, single and in my 20's, A photographer literally hot off the press and on a military aircraft headed god knows where for a job I don't yet understand. "photograph the soldiers" they said "tell us a story," they demanded. Of what? And then he showed up, 6'3, Tan, built, and completely out of my league. "Are his eyes hazel or green" omg! stop staring. I tell myself as his eyes look me over. "Your Katceiana" (caught-sea- an)like Katherine but with a little twist. I smile up at him, he nods "Follow me" he demands. I stumble taking a step almost losing my shit, as two large and powerful hand grab me keeping me upright. I look up only to see his face right in mine, a stern look on his "We don't have time to babysit, so please watch your step we can't have you killing yourself before you actually do something useful" he grits out almost annoyed I'd tried. "yeah, Thanks my hero my knees won't be bruised" I mumble out "don't be a smart ass, get your shit and lets go" he bit back I sigh This only proves my point beautiful me have no heart only........ "you coming, Damn women" I hear growling at me from the bunker doors. shake my head clear of my thoughts I grab my bag and follow him out "Asshole" I whisper "Its Stanton SGT. Stanton to be exact" he tells me leading me to another bunker "your suit, Princess enjoy" his words cold and unsettling, God Damn has this man been at war so damn long he no longers knows how to be polite or gentle. I stare daggers at him for a moment before grabbing my bag and saying "Thank you,".
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𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 | ❦
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When I was 14, my best friend, Declan, rushed into my life like a storm. He climbed through my window one night, carrying a duffel bag full of baseball equipment, but it wasn't for a game. It was for me. He'd seen the bruises, heard the shouting, and knew what my dad had been doing. Declan, smaller than me even at that age, fought my father to protect me, taking the blows that I couldn't fight off. That night, my dad moved us away, and I never saw Declan again. Now, 13 years later, I'm back in town-older, tougher, and a lot more guarded-but I have no idea where Declan ended up. Life pulled us in different directions, and mine was full of scars, seen and unseen. Then, one night at a red light, a guy starts harassing me through my open window. Before I can react, a motorcycle screeches to a stop beside me. The rider-tattooed, broad-shouldered, and completely lethal-reaches through the guy's window, slams his head into the steering wheel, and rides off like it was just another Thursday. I follow him. He ends up at a place called The Rusted Anchor, a rough bar on the edge of town, hidden behind rusted fences and rows of bikes. The crowd is loud and rough, but I've seen worse. Inside, it smells like whiskey, smoke, and danger. And behind the bar, pouring drinks with practiced ease, is the man I thought I lost all those years ago-Declan. He's no longer the quiet, skinny kid who risked everything to protect me. He's a man now-hardened, scarred, with eyes like storm clouds and a presence that silences a room. He doesn't recognize me at first. But when he does, I see it-that same fire, that same instinct to protect. Only now, it burns even hotter. Declan isn't just back in my life. He's ready to do whatever it takes to keep me safe. And this time, no one is going to take me away from him.
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