He took a long drink from the water he had sitting close by and continued reading, until he came to the pages that were splattered with her blood. He could never get past those. He wanted to. He tried so often, but they still ripped him apart inside. Those droplets pulled at him until he was back in time, back in that room. He felt so small and weak. He had never been a burly child and that characteristic had followed him into his teen years. He had been brilliant, but brains didn’t do much to solve some things. Sometimes you needed muscles and that night that weak boy found strength in his rage. Muscles had come much later. Much too late to do the girl in the bed any good, but he wasn’t sure they would really have mattered, they hadn’t saved Candy. Thank God Pick hadn’t been wielding a knife or she would be dead or at the very least terribly injured. Because she had thought to save him. Why didn’t anyone ever think he could fight his own battles? Why did these women who loved him always want to protect him when it was his place to protect them? He had done a shitty job of protecting Marty and she had been taken and God knows what she suffered, but that was different, his father had needed him. His mother had killed herself with an overdose of sleeping pills. Spec still didn’t feel the sorrow he knew he should feel, but the woman had meant little to him. His mother had lived in a small house three streets from the house he lived in with his parents. He heard the door open, but he didn’t look up. He knew who came to stand beside him. There was only one person who came here.
What do You think about Spec (Defenders M.C, Book 6)?
