27 Lies: Luke’s Story is coming October 16th!
A long time ago…
I was young and naive. I thought I could save the world. I thought that protecting those around me from hurt and pain was what I was born to do. She made me feel that way. Ava Links, the little girl who was too fucking stubborn for her own good. The little girl who absorbed the hurt and pain of everyone around her and tried to bring sunshine to them all. The little girl who didn’t give a damn if people picked on her about wearing a crown and tutu every day. A little girl who somehow looked at me, expecting—no, damn near demanding—I protect her.
I saw the pain she hid, and as I grew older, I understood that pain. The pain of being so much to so many that there is really never a “you”.
I took control of my life…
I had to get away from everyone who pulled at me in order to claim myself. When I became the man I was destined to be, I began to live. Then, one drunken night, Ava Links, no longer a little girl, said the right damn thing to me, and everything changed. After seven years of fucking her while home on leave with no expectations, now my life is out of control…
One bad dream, one I love you, one night of pushing her the hell out of my life, one drummer stealing her heart, and one explosion took everything away.
Lies are told.
Lies are unraveling.
Lies are going to destroy.
These are my truths.
[scroll-box]Outside, Sandman screams and chants as we hurry him down the pre-planned route. Trigger is on the phone, giving coordinates to the guys in the sky for evacuation as he and Killshot go back inside the building we were occupying to grab our equipment.
Again, Sandman puts up a fight, and I am forced to the ground with him.
A whistling buzz pierces my ears, followed by an earth shaking explosion.
The building has been hit!
The ringing in my ears is horrific. The pain I feel as brick and metal hit me is allowed for five, four, three, two, one, and now I dismiss it.
Sandman easily pushes away from the grip I have on him because, lucky for him, he was covered by my body. When I grab him, I quickly realize my shoulder is dislocated, but fuck if I let him go. Not when we spent years looking for him.
I hear Trigger yelling but, with the ringing in my ears, I have no idea what the hell he’s saying.
I look back at Sandman, who has a sick smile on his face. I push him to the ground and look back for my team.
Trigger is a mess. Blood is everywhere as he pushes parts of the building off of him. But I don’t see Killshot. I am caught in a moment of needing to help my men, yet not wanting to release my captive.
I look back at Sandman who knows the conundrum I am faced: His live capture or helping my men. What he doesn’t know is who I am.
Another whistle and another explosion rocks us.
I pull out my piece and look at the sick fuck.[/scroll-box]
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