Page 45 of Royal Salvation

“Yes, I remember them.”

Defeat sounded in his father’s voice that he’d never heard before. It made Reaper proceed with caution. “Do you remember why they left the service? Their records are sealed or non-existent and I need to know.”

“Why?”

Reaper shook his head. “I can’t tell you that.”

Malcolm angled his head to the side. “You don’t work for a search and rescue company do you, son?”

Reaper glanced at Bishop, not sure what to tell his old man. They’d locked horns more than he could say and there was no love lost between them, but Malcolm could read him better than most. “Yes and no.”

His father slapped his thigh and laughed, causing him to break into a coughing fit. Reaper handed his father the water glass, cupping his hand around the glass to stabilise it as his father shook from the racking breaths shuddering through his body.

As his father got himself under control worry tinged the back of Reaper’s neck. His unsteady gait, the coughing, the weight loss, it was easy to make the connection that his father was a very sick man. Reaper pulled away, dropping his hand, and pushing the sympathy he was feeling aside. This man had ruined his life and the way he’d treated Caleb and his mother was downright callous. Still, a tiny flame of regret flickered that they’d never worked out their differences.

“I knew you had more about you than that. I didn’t raise a quitter and while I don’t condone what you did to get kicked out of the army, it seems you found yourself a new life.”

“I don’t want to talk about that. I just need to know why Playboy got kicked out and if anyone has seen him lately.”

Malcolm gave a short nod of understanding, his breaths finally calming into a regular rhythm since the coughing fit. “I haven’t seen him since before I retired. I don’t know the full story, only what I heard from friends still in the service. Shortly after I left there was a mission in Iran. I don’t know the details but apparently Playboy, and that other one, Chess, were caught trying to smuggle young women across the border.”

Reaper looked to Bishop, his body tensing as memories of what happened in the Hindu Kush flooded his mind. “That bastard.”

Malcolm nodded his agreement. “Nothing was ever levelled against him charge wise. Most likely because of who his father is, but after what happened with you, the powers that be couldn’t look the other way again.”

Reaper pushed back his chair, the sound of wood scraping the floor loud in the small room. “What the hell does that mean?”

Malcolm held up a hand as if to calm his oldest son, but it was no use. Rage was bubbling up inside him, like poison lava. “Son, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm the fuck down. You don’t even know me, or who I am.”

“Reaper.”

He glanced at Bishop, who was still seated, a warning in his tone that he wanted to heed but anger about what had been done to him was flowing now. “Have you any idea why I was kicked out of the armed forces? The real reason, not the bullshit one they spouted about me beating up a colleague because I was out of control.”

“Yes, I was on the committee that decided your fate. I heard the testimony given by the rest of your team.”

Reaper reared back as if someone had sucker-punched him in the chest. “What? You were what?” Hurt tinged his words but mostly it was anger at the betrayal that was so much deeper than he’d thought.

“Sit down please and let me explain.”

“No, fuck this. I’m done with you.”

Reaper brushed past Bishop and went outside to wait for his friend, sucking in oxygen to calm the tirade of rage inside him. How could he still have this noose around his neck from trying to do the right thing? Even his own father had betrayed him, cutting him loose and never saying a single word about it.

“Reaper.”

Turning, he saw Bishop striding toward him, his cocky swagger an act, just as much as the overly London accent he put on. “You ready to go?”

“Reaper, you should hear him out.”

“No, he gave up that right when he sold me out.”

“How do you know he sold you out? You never even stopped to listen.”

“Because I know the man he is, and family doesn’t come first for my father.”

“Maybe, but it seems to me that you won’t always have the luxury of getting to ask him. He’s clearly a sick man and if you don’t get answers now, you may never get them. Believe me when I say you do not want to go the rest of your life with unanswered questions.”