Page 24 of Ranger’s Protection

Instead, I just whisper "thank you" and climb under the covers fully clothed because the idea of changing into pajamas requires more energy than I currently possess.

The pillow is soft. The comforter is heavy in that comforting way good blankets are. The room is quiet except for the distant sound of voices from downstairs and Graham's steady breathing from the chair.

I close my eyes.

Immediately see Marcus Vale's face. The snake tattoo. The gun pressed to David's temple.

My eyes snap open.

"Can't sleep?" Graham asks.

"It happened again. Every time I close my eyes, I see it. The murder. Today. All of it just playing on loop." I pull the comforter up to my chin even though I'm not cold. "How do you make it stop?"

"You don't. Not at first. Eventually your brain processes it enough that the images lose their power. But that takes time."

"How much time?"

"Depends on the person. For me, after Afghanistan, it took months before I could sleep through the night without seeing my friend step on that IED."

I turn my head on the pillow to look at him. He's still sitting in the chair, relaxed but alert, watching me with those beautiful hazel eyes that seem to see everything.

"You mentioned that earlier," I say. "In the car. That you lost someone because you didn't see the IED in time."

"Yeah. Corporal James Mitchell. Good man. Better friend. We were on patrol in Kandahar Province. I was on point, checking for threats. Walked right past an IED buried in the road. Didn't see it. He stepped on it three seconds later."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too." He's quiet for a moment. "After that, I became obsessed with seeing threats before they arrived. Mapping every possible danger. Planning three moves ahead. It's why I'm good at tactics now. I learned to see patterns, to anticipate, to never miss what's right in front of me again."

"Is that why you joined the MC?" I ask. "To keep protecting people?"

"Partly. I left the military after my contract ended. Didn't want to re-up even though they offered. Spent six months doing private security work, but it felt empty. Just protecting rich people's stuff for paychecks. No purpose to it." He shifts in the chair, getting more comfortable. "Then I ran into Judge at a bar. We'd crossed paths during our service. Different units, but we knew some of the same people. Started talking. He told me about the Iron Phoenix. About what Phoenix was trying to build."

"Which was what?"

"A club that actually means something. That protects people who need protecting, not because they can pay but because it's right. Phoenix founded it after leaving the Vipers MC when they went corrupt. He barely escaped with his life, and he wanted to build something different. Something honorable."

I digest that information slowly. "So, you joined to have purpose again."

"Yeah. And to be part of something that felt like family. The military was family for a decade. When I left, I didn't have that anymore. Judge offered me a place where I could belong. Where my skills mattered for more than just a paycheck."

"Your sister," I say, remembering fragments of conversation from earlier. "Quinn. Judge mentioned her when he talked to me at the intersection. She's your family too."

"Yeah. Quinn's my younger sister. Raised her, mostly, after our father decided being a parent was too much work and being a drunk was easier."

"I'm sorry. That must've been hard."

"It was what it was. Our father believed the military would fix us, turn us into the disciplined soldiers he'd failed to become himself. So, he pushed us both into enlisting. Used his belt to reinforce the point when we weren't enthusiastic enough about the idea."

The casual way he says it, like he's describing the weather instead of abuse, makes my chest hurt.

"Quinn joined too?" I ask.

"Yes, then got out and spent a few years figuring out what she wanted to do. Now she's working as a kind of live-in protection specialist for Dean, one of our brothers. He has a five-year-old daughter, Mariah. Quinn lives with them and keeps Mariah safe."

"That's sweet," I say. And then, because I can't help myself: "Are they together? Dean and Quinn?"

"Yeah. Happened fast, within a couple days of her arriving to babysit. But that's how it works around here, apparently. The brothers meet their women and just... know."