OUTLIER: Blood, Brotherhood, And Beauty (Beauty 0f Lifee Book 4)

by Laura Acton

  “In high school—on the cross-country team my senior year.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know that, Blondie.”

  Dan shrugged and winced. “Never came up in conversation.”

  As Dr. Fraser did a thorough exam, the three chatted about running with Malcolm vowing he would find the time to train and maybe run a marathon. Dan joked he should practice in Rouge Park—the terrain is smooth and level. All were laughing by the end of the exam.

  Malcolm put his instruments in his bag and shut it. Heather is right, this guy is Dantastic. “Never treated a patient, who looks as ghastly as you do or with your injuries, who is up and moving so soon after. Please take it easy. Follow-up with me in a week. I can remove the stitches, and we can discuss rehab and an appropriate amount of time off before I’ll release you for light duty.

  “I understand you’re attending the memorial service today. Beyond that, I’m ordering bed rest for the next few days and no exertion of any type for at least a week.” Dr. Fraser handed the sling to Jim and added, “I’m sure you know how to adjust this appropriately.”

  Patch nodded. “Thanks.”

  Dan examined the sling, he would appear weak wearing the damned thing, but conceded he needed the support the sling would give his arm.

  Turning back to Dan, Malcolm advised, “Limit the movements of your right arm so it can heal properly. Perhaps give up shaving for a few weeks. I don’t want to add a slit throat to your list of injuries.”

  They all chuckled.

  “Given the limited use of your hands, do you have anyone who will be able to stay with you and help out?”

  They’re not gonna let me out of their sight for a while—so, yeah. It felt interesting yet pleasant. Dan said, “Yeah, I’m sure it will be possible. Thanks for coming today and for all your help.”

  “My pleasure. You call if you need anything before your appointment.” Dr. Fraser picked up his bag. “I’ll let myself out. And, Dan, remember, I want you to rest and keep up those deep breathing exercises to keep your lungs clear.”

  “He will,” Patch replied for Blondie. He turned to Blondie and said, “I like him. He’s a good doctor.”

  “Yeah, he’s good.” Uncertain why Dan found himself trusting Fraser.

  As Dr. Fraser was leaving Bram came in with Dan’s uniform. Patch and Bram helped him dress. Bending to put on socks or tie shoes was impossible as was putting on his t-shirt by himself. Dressed in everything except the button down uniform shirt, Dan stood and looked in the mirror. His face still looked a mess—he hoped he would frighten no children today.

  Patch was reaching for the bullet proof vest when Dan asked, “Can we wait until shortly before we leave to put that on?”

  Nodding yes, Patch said, “I’ll bring painkillers with us in case you need any later. The vest might aggravate your ribs.”

  Dan nodded as the three reentered the main suite.

  Memories and Motives

  10

  July 19

  Grand Citadel Hotel – Main Suite – 2:00 p.m.

  Dan exited the room to find everyone except Patch ready. Patch excused himself and went to his room to dress. Everyone lounged in comfortable chairs, relaxing waiting until time to leave. Dan made his way to the table and sat down in a chair. His stomach rumbled loud enough to be heard.

  Lexa got up and came over to him. “It sounds angry, better feed it.”

  Dan picked up the thread from four days ago on the way to Bennie’s Gas Station. “Would if I could.” He hurt too much after the doctor’s exam and dressing to lift his arms to eat anything.

  She moved closer and whispered, “Arms too sore to lift them?”

  He gave her a barely perceptible nod, but deflected, “Don’t want to be dropping anything on my dress uniform.”

  Lexa turned and headed to the small kitchen. She had checked the cabinets yesterday and found a small blender. She pulled the blender out and set it up. Next, Lexa went to the fridge to pull out the frozen strawberry yogurt, a banana, and the small container of milk.

  Not long after, she returned to Dan and placed a glass of strawberry-banana yogurt smoothie in front of him. As she put a long wide straw in the glass, Lexa said loud enough for the others to hear, “Now you won’t spill any on your uniform.” She winked as she whispered, “No need to use your arms, either.”

  Dan leaned forward slightly and sucked in the smoothie. After taking several long drinks, Dan gazed up at Lexa with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He checked around him finding the team distracted elsewhere. Dan winked at Lexa as tongue slowly licked his sensuous lips. “Mmmm tasty. I like dessert.”

  Lexa riveted her gaze on his mouth as she bit her lower lip desperately wanting to kiss him. She hastily glanced away only to be drawn back to him.

  Damn, I can’t believe Dan dared to do that in front of everyone. He is crazy. What would the team think if they caught sight of him doing that?

  Jon wandered over and sat down next to Dan. “Just don’t let her make you a mango protein smoothie.” His face twisted to showing how disgusting.

  Dan laughed and shared a quick glance with Lexa as he sucked on his smoothie again. Teasing her is fun, but I must be more careful.

  Ray piped up, “Hey, I like her mango smoothies.”

  Loki bounded over to the table. “But nowhere near as yummy as Lexa’s triple chocolate smoothies. Tonight we can get the fixins’ and make some.”

  Bram shared a cheerful look with Nick. “Kellie’s snickerdoodles are so good dunked in Lexa’s chocolate smoothies.”

  Nick leaned back. “Nothing beats Loki’s Ma’s Pignolo cookies dipped into a vanilla shake.”

  Jon shook his head. “Nope, Jammie Dodger’s beat out Pignolo. But I agree on the vanilla shake.”

  The conversation drew in everyone. They all discussed their favorite cookies and desserts—a nice break from all the stress of the past few days. Lexa made Dan another smoothie when he finished the first.

  General Broderick smiled again watching his son laugh with his friends. William never smiled on July nineteenth—not for nineteen years—not until today. Until today, this day only ever contained hurt. He checked his watch and read 2:06 p.m. The lives of his entire family shattered on this day nineteen years ago at 4:19 p.m. when Sara had died.

  William thought it was fitting today be the day he began to reconnect with Daniel. Yvonne might call this divine intervention or fate. In his mind, this felt like a clock started again after nineteen years. Even with the whole Plouffe and Pletcher threat, William couldn’t help but smile.

  He finally had the opportunity build a father-son relationship with Daniel. William couldn’t wait for Daniel to go visit Yvonne and Becca. Heck, he couldn’t wait for his brothers and nephews to arrive. They would begin to heal—all of them.

  Loki’s computer gave off a loud ping interrupting the conversation. Loki grabbed the laptop. “Another search has results.” Almost afraid to look, he opened the file anyway. Tired of all the crud which hurt Dan, he didn’t want to add more. This search was one which looked for connections between the general and Plouffe. Perhaps this might shed light on the reason.

  He clicked a link to retrieve the result, and a peculiar expression crossed his face as he read the information. All this couldn’t stem from this? If so the man is off his rocker. Loki looked up to find everyone staring at him waiting with bated breath. “Um, General, do you remember a shooting competition when Dan was eight?”

  William regarded his son with pride in his eyes. “Yes. Daniel did extremely well that day.”

  “Well, I’m not sure if this is what started everything or not, but … Plouffe doesn’t look pleased in this photo. If this is what prompted his hatred the guy is insane,” Loki said as he turned his laptop so the others could see what he found.

  The screen displayed a twenty-year-old Army Times newspaper article with a photo. The picture included the general with a proud expression on his face and his arm around the shoulders of young Dan
who beamed brightly and held a Remi. Several other soldiers circled them, each holding a rifle. Everyone appeared happy except for one incredibly pissed off looking Major Plouffe.

  The headline read, “Eight-Year-Old Broderick Blows Away Experienced Marksmen.” The article described how Dan bested all the snipers in an impromptu long-range shooting competition during training exercises. The author of the article poked good-natured fun at several of the sniper’s abilities, Plouffe’s included because a mere boy won the contest.

  William gazed at the picture with a soft, faraway expression. “I remember the day clearly. It was summertime and Yvonne, Sara, and Becca all came down with a stomach virus. I took Daniel with me so he could get out of the house. Six of my top snipers held a friendly competition after a training exercise.

  “They challenged the training officers, but there with only four of them. Plouffe happened to be there and though not a training officer he offered to join. I offered to be on their team, but the men said it would be an unfair advantage.” William glanced at Jon. “I held all the records at that point, so I understood their reluctance.”

  Jon thought, like father-like son. He wondered what a competition with the general would be like. Would Dan beat his father? Can I beat the general?

  “Still one shy for the officer’s, I suggested Daniel be on their team. I recall everyone laughed at my suggestion. So, I boasted Daniel would beat any of them. They didn’t believe me and the competition morphed into an individual one instead of team based. I’m sure they all thought Daniel would be out in the first round.

  “We did distance, accuracy, and groupings as the measure to move forward each round. Daniel knocked them off one at a time—faster, more accurate, and tighter groupings. Daniel stunned the men with his skills. The competition was all so friendly. The men called him ‘a natural’ and said Daniel’s skills must be in the blood.

  “I remember the picture being taken, but never saw this article. Plouffe definitely doesn’t look happy in this picture. I don’t remember him being upset during the competition, but truth be told I focused on my son.” William finished and studied the picture of eight-year-old Daniel.

  It had been a fun day—one of the few undeniably fun memories he had of Daniel as a boy. If this is the reason for Plouffe’s hatred—it would cruelly taint his happy memory with something foul.

  Dan focused on the picture lost in his own thoughts, not hearing the general speak. He forgot that day. The memories filtered back in. Summertime … no school. His mom and sisters were sick. He was so bored. His dad offered to take him to the shooting range.

  He liked going to the range with him. It was something they would always talk about. Lots of guys practicing. His father bragged about his ability. Going with his father had been fun, a rare treat to show off his skill to people who appreciated it. None of his school friends understood. All they wanted to do was talk about hockey, TV shows, or video games.

  Dan remembered the proud comments his father made about him. The way he rubbed his head or patted his back and smiled at him after he made a good shot. Dan had a tangible connection with his father at the shooting range.

  A single tear slipped from his eye. How the hell did his brain scramble things so badly? He misjudged his father for so long. Dan hoped one day they reconnected.

  He came back to the present just as the general finished speaking. Dan softly asked, “Do you think this could really be the reason? Seems like a trifling thing to hate a man because his son shot better than him. There has to be more.”

  But then Dan thought about Murphy—the man’s hatred of himself appeared unjustified. Dan could recall nothing he did to Murphy to explain Murphy’s hatred of him. He practically killed himself trying to save Murphy’s ass on the cliff. The human brain confused him.

  General Broderick spoke with firm conviction, “I don’t care anymore why it started, what Plouffe’s motive was, or is. I only care that it stops and stops today! He must be brought to justice for the years of abuse and atrocities he orchestrated and committed against Daniel. He must pay for his crimes.”

  The entire group was in resolute agreement as Nick checked his watch, two thirty, time to get going. “Dan, time put the vest on and button up.”

  Patch eased Blondie’s arm out of the sling. Jon and Loki helped Dan put the vest on. They adjusted the vest as loosely as they could, but it was still tight and put pressure in places that hurt.

  Dan hissed as he tried to put on his uniform shirt by himself.

  Lexa took his shirt from him. “Let me help,” she murmured. She slid the sleeve up his right arm first. Letting one of her hands rest lightly on his shoulder, Lexa pulled the shirt across his back. In the process, she skimmed her fingers over his upper back behind his neck with her other hand. Carefully Lexa helped him get his left arm into the sleeve. It was a tight fit, but she got his shirt on without causing him additional pain.

  She stepped back, feeling the tingle in her fingertips from touching him and the flutter in her stomach from being so close to him. Keeping herself in a professional mode was hard. The power of their attraction is so strong.

  When Lexa stepped back, Dan tried to button his shirt himself, but his left hand wouldn’t allow it. Lightning struck again as Lexa moved in front of him and brushed his fingers out of the way. First, she buttoned his cuffs, it was a tight fit over his left wrist due to the brace. Then she started on the main buttons, working efficiently from the bottom to the top of his shirt.

  This is the first time I’m helping Dan dress instead of undress, Lexa thought. It sent shivers through her body. They were standing in the middle of the room surrounded by others, but it felt so intimate like they were the only ones in existence. If that were only true.

  Lexa peered up into Dan’s sapphire blue eyes when she finished. Primeval energy surged between them as their eyes locked for the briefest second before she broke contact and stepped away awkwardly. Oh boy, this man can destroy everything I worked for if I’m not careful. She felt a pull for him which made her want to take unacceptable risks—like kissing him right here and now.

  With the single glance into Lexa’s hazel eyes, Dan saw a fire and passion so powerful in her golden flecks. It took all the restraint in him not to pull her to him and kiss her.

  The hiss he released this time had nothing to do with pain. Dan abruptly excused himself to the bedroom to tuck in his shirt and take a moment to himself. Damn, Lexa was so sexy—he wanted her again so badly, and his body reacted. It was a good thing his shirt tails covered the front of his pants, or everyone would’ve known exactly what he wanted or rather who he wanted.

  Dan carefully adjusted himself as he slowly tucked his shirt in and zipped his pants. As he closed his eyes and imagined her lips on his, Dan felt the seed buried in his soul sprout. What he experienced with Lexa he never did with another woman—ever. Is she my beauty of life?

  He wondered just how long it would take to figure it out. Waiting would be hard—in more ways than one. Though, if Sexy Lexie were his beauty of life, Dan would patiently wait with her sighted in his scope—he never failed when he waited—he never missed. And if she were his one … he would forever gently care for her precious heart and beautiful soul.

  After a particular body part deflated, and he was properly tucked in, Dan returned to the main suite. Patch came forward with his sling. Once it was settled in place, Dan relaxed his shoulder, and the throbbing from using his arms ebbed back down to a manageable level.

  Blaze stepped up to Blondie. “Remember, you are not allowed outside a five-foot radius.”

  Dan rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Yes, mother-hen.”

  “That’s a good boy,” Blaze said as he tousled Blondie’s hair and a broad grin spread across his face. He liked having Blondie back. The kid’s grin was so reminiscent of happy times with the unit. Blaze didn’t realize how much he missed it—but Blondie belonged to his new team now.

  Courtyard Behind Church – 2:00 p.m.

&
nbsp; Sergeant Blake Murphy needed to find the right place to hide and wait. The major had scoped out the location yesterday and told him this was the only private place—Broderick would be brought here by the blubbering fiancée. Not options back here, and if anyone did more than a cursory check of the courtyard he would be found.

  Plouffe said Broderick would have a protection detail—what a wimp—so Murphy needed a position from which he could act quickly and make his escape. There weren’t many exits. This wasn’t an ideal place to take action, but this was his last opportunity to take Broderick out and get his promotion.

  As Blake looked for a place to hide in the courtyard, he mulled over the bad blood between him and Broderick. Damn, he hated Broderick with a passion. The asshat is a cocky son of a bitch. Broderick’s stupid stunt on the cliff caused him so much grief through the years.

  After it had happened, several guys and Broderick’s best friend beat the shit out of him. The training officers turned a blind eye when he reported it. Over the years, every time he met someone from the training cadre—even the ones who washed out—they always dogged him about it. They would tell him he was only here because some kid risked his own life to save his worthless ass and he would be dead if Broderick didn’t act so fast.

  It also pissed him off Broderick beat him at everything in training. He should’ve been the star of the training cadre. But no, he always came in second to Broderick. The asshat spoke more languages, was better at shooting, a faster runner, quicker at assessing situations, better at tactics, and lasted longer in cold weather and anti-interrogation training scenarios.

  He snorted. Not better at swimming. Broderick sucks at swimming. He barely made the swim in time … doing a doggy paddle. That was another reason to hate him. Murphy was damned sure General Daddy told the instructors to pass the boat anchor even though Broderick failed miserably.

  Blake still bristled over the fact nearly everyone in the training cadre rallied around Broderick and called out encouragement to him as he made the swim. And Hunter, damned Hunter jumped back into the water and swam next to him! The instructors should’ve disqualified Broderick for that alone, but they didn’t. Instead, they praised Hunter for his leadership skills, his ability to motivate others, and for his display of unit cohesiveness.