Page 55 of Oliver (The Golden Team #7)

Faron

I pressed myself into the jagged shadow of a crumbling wall, trying to convince my lungs to slow the hell down. If I could hear my heart pounding, some bored guard with a cheap assault rifle probably could too.

Three days now — hiding like a snake in this desert compound’s rotting skin, crawling on my belly when the moon’s too bright and the desert wind feels like it’s carrying my sins for the whole damn country to smell.

Somewhere behind those fences were my brothers, Chuck Mercer and Joel Alvarez. Good men who’d gone where command said not to, who’d trusted that when the world turned its back, I wouldn’t.

They were right.

A goat bleated too close to my ear and nearly got me killed. I laid a hand on its warm side, whispering softly in Cherokee until it flicked its ears and wandered off like I wasn’t about to crawl into hell for two men who’d do the same for me.

I shifted my weight. My ribs screamed where a rock had kissed me two nights ago when I fell out of a window faster than a patrol dog could get its teeth in my ass. I could almost hear Chuck’s voice now — laughing at me for making this personal.

“Bet your stubborn ass Faron’ll come for us. No plan B, no backup — just him and that mean knife he loves more than people. And maybe he’d bring Bear, his dog.”

Damn right. Bear, damn I can’t believe my dog was dead. I loved that dog. I’m going to miss the hell out of him.

Through a crack in the plaster, I counted patrol boots shuffling past. The glow of cigarettes illuminated the scene.

Bored laughter echoed around me. I tasted the stale bread I’d stolen last night — my last bite of anything worth chewing.

I couldn’t wait until I could find that hole in the fence and slip in close enough to tap Chuck on the shoulder and say:

I told you I’d come. Just to see the expression on his face. I’ve been hunting for them for a month already, and finally, I know they are here.

I adjusted my rifle, exhaled slowly, and let the desert envelop me like a promise. Twenty more yards tonight. Twenty more tomorrow. By dawn, my brothers would know they weren’t alone anymore. I just had to be patient. I didn’t tell anyone what I was doing. I knew they would get angry.