Page 27 of Lethal Illusion (Six Points Security #8)

Navarre mentally cracked his knuckles. “The old man promoted me to account collections during the summer before I started my junior year of college. That opened my eyes to what the business was all about. Up to that point, I assumed they just went after deadbeats who didn’t want to pay their bills.

And yeah, there were people who fell into that category, but there was more to it than that.

A lot of them were just regular, decent, everyday people who’d fallen on hard times and were struggling to make ends meet.

But with the sky-high interest and fees on top of fees, the hole they were in kept getting deeper and deeper until there was no way out.

“It didn’t take long for me to realize I didn’t want to earn a living by making other people’s lives miserable.

I tried, I really did, because I knew it was expected of me.

Hell, I was even a finance major my first two years of college.

Made the dean’s list and everything. But I couldn’t imagine doing that kind of work for the rest of my life.

I would have ended up hating myself. I wanted to forge my own path, pursue my own interests. ”

She rested her chin on his chest. “Doing what?”

“Back then, I wanted to be an engineer. I’ve always enjoyed building things, or figuring out what makes them tick.

” Nowadays, he scratched that itch by restoring classic cars.

He enjoyed the work, and the finished product gave him a sense of accomplishment.

He could probably earn a decent living that way, but he enjoyed private security even more.

“About a week before the fall semester of my junior year, I finally mustered the courage to tell the old man that I didn’t want to work for him anymore. ”

“I take it that didn’t go over well.”

“That’s a diplomatic way to describe it.

” He let out a humorless laugh as the grand finale unfolded in his mind.

“My father isn’t the kind of man who takes ‘no’ lightly.

Things turned ugly fast. Long story short, he kicked me out of the house and cut me off financially.

He said if I was so determined to forge my own path, I’d be doing it without his help.

So I left with my car, the clothes on my back, and a few hundred bucks—nowhere near enough to pay for tuition and books.

I had to drop all my classes that semester.

Eventually, I ran out of couches to crash on and ended up sleeping in my car.

I was flat broke and I couldn’t get a good job because my only work experience was at my father’s company, and he refused to give me a reference.

The way I saw it, the military was my best option. ”

Looking back, he’d made the right decision.

God only knew what would have happened to him if he hadn’t joined the Army.

Probably stuck in some dead-end job, barely making ends meet, too exhausted from working nonstop to realize just how shitty his life had become.

Now he had a career, stability. Friends.

A life he’d built from the ground up; that he’d fight to the death to defend.

“Going from rich boy to Army grunt had to be a bit of a culture shock,” Sloane said.

“I was too pissed off to really notice. I was so damn determined to succeed at all costs, to prove I could do it on my own. I think it’s what got me through boot camp.” It was there that he’d discovered a natural ability with a rifle, which placed him on the path to eventually becoming a sniper.

“How are things with your family now?” she asked. “Have you ever gone back for a Navarre family Christmas?”

His gut twisted. “No. I’ve never been invited.”

She gasped. “Are you kidding? After all this time? Not even by your mom?”

Navarre swallowed hard, the words thick in his throat. “My mother falls in line with whatever my father wants. She’s always been like that. The last time we spoke on the phone, she told me she didn’t have a son and hung up on me.”

Being cut off financially had sucked, but he’d found a way to make it on his own. But having his family refuse to acknowledge his existence had been a royal kick to the nuts. And even though he’d closed that chapter of his life, the wound still stung.

“Usually, I spend Christmas with Jackson and his family. It’s a packed house every year, with kids running around, parents fussing.

There’s at least one argument over the proper ingredients of a casserole.

After dinner, somebody breaks out the dominoes; there isn’t a member of the family who doesn’t take that game seriously.

But no matter how crazy things get, they go out of their way to treat me like one of their own. ”

“That sounds wonderful.” Sloane’s voice had softened, a little dreamy, as if sleep was preparing to reclaim her.

“It is. I’m lucky to have them in my life. At this point, I consider them more family than my actual blood relatives. I even know the secret ingredients in Momma Jackson’s award-winning peach pie.”

He couldn’t see her in the dark, but he could practically feel her smile. “Which is?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it?

” Navarre smoothed a hand up and down Sloane’s back, and when she made a soft, contented sound, every muscle in his body tensed.

For a fleeting moment, he wondered how she’d fit in with the Jackson family—they’d love her, no doubt about it—and then he gave himself a mental smack upside the head.

Now was not the time to be pondering where she’d fit into his future.

Actually, the time was never. She was a colleague, which made her off-limits for that kind of crap.

Being friends was okay, but nothing more.

It was a line he simply refused to cross, because it made things way too complicated.

“When we get back, I’ll ask her to make you one. ”

“I’d like that.” She rested her cheek against his chest. “Thank you for trusting me enough to share that with me.”

“You’re welcome. Now go back to sleep. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”