Page 22 of Painless
His crooked grin returned at that. “Military academy, if you can believe that.”
I couldn’t. “No way! You?” I reached out and twirled a lock of his golden hair in my fingers. “With this hair and your attitude? I’m gonna need proof.”
“Reaper might have a picture somewhere,” he laughed. “But yeah, I had the pressed uniform without a speck of lint on it, shiny black shoes, and an even shinier flag pole up my ass.”
“What was that like?” I was still trying to reconcile the free-spirited, crafty Gunner I knew with growing up at some prestigious academy.
“In the early years, about what you would expect,” he sighed. “Lots of rules, long days of classes. Cliques and petty drama. Girls trying to get away with the shortest skirts as possible. That part wasn’t bad, but I hated it overall. I lived for the weekends and breaks away from that place.”
“You didn’t fit in?” I asked.
“Nah, it wasn’t that,” he smirked. “I was popular enough, just thought everyone else was stupid and fake. But on the weekends, I could take off my stuffy school uniform and trade it for leathers and a motorbike.”
“Ah,” I said, understanding. “After you met Reaper and Jandro.”
“Yeah, bailed them out of jail with my parents’ money during my sophomore year.” He chuckled. “I’m certain they never noticed it missing.”
“And after you were done with school?”
“More school,” he grumbled with an eyeroll. “Only this time, the Collapse was looking more and more like a reality. So my parents enrolled me at the finest military college money could buy. I was expected to become a general, an adviser at the Pentagon or some shit, I dunno. They had connections and could pull strings.”
“What was that place like?”
“Night and day difference from my high school,” he said. “It was basically a boot camp. Drill sergeants yelling at me at four in the morning to get out of bed. Push-ups and running every day. I learned how to field strip an M4 rifle within seconds. I’m telling you, baby girl, it was so much harder than prep school, but…”
“You liked it,” I completed for him.
“I fucking loved it,” he admitted. “Could’ve done without dickwads breathing down my neck, but I loved handling firearms and learning how they worked. I got engrossed in military tactics and strategy. I just,” he sucked in a deep breath. “I didn’t want to follow orders for some politician, you know? Be part of a system that was driving this country into the shitter. When Reaper told me he was making a real MC, I had to make a decision.”
I smiled at him. “And are you happy with the decision you made?”
He leaned forward, folding his arms on top of mine along the back of the chair, and rested his chin there with a smile.
“I used to wonder about thewhat-ifsa lot. I was offered a job in DC when I finished school. Great pay, benefits package, the whole nine. But lately?” He shook his head, his eyes locked onto mine. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here.”
Nine
JANDRO
“You think she’s done yet?”
“I swear to God, I’m gonna waterboard you if you don’t shut up,” Reaper grumbled.
Hades growled in agreement, taking a moment to look away from the street to narrow his black eyes at me.
I sighed and folded up the rag I was using to clean the bike parts strewn out on the patio coffee table. Reaper sat across from me, cleaning a few of the guns we kept stashed around in case of an attack.
“She’s bringing Gunner with her,” I said, watching carefully for his reaction.
The president barely batted an eye. “So is he hers, or not?”
“I dunno. They were all close in the pool the other day.”
“I saw.” Reaper stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. “She hasn’t said much to me about him, so I’m not pushing it for now.”
“Same here,” I agreed. “But it’s pretty telling that she wanted him during her tattoo and not us, don’tcha think?”
“Gettin’ jealous, ‘Dro?” Reaper glanced at me with a wry grin as he reassembled two Glocks.
