The Virgin's Night Out by Shiloh Walker

Author:Shiloh Walker [Walker, Shiloh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Military
Google: HkZ4CgAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00SZ1XRSI
Publisher: Shiloh Walker
Published: 2015-04-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

She’d been so pale, her blonde hair like snow, right up until it met the red spilling out of it.

“He killed her.” Boone closed his eyes as the fury and misery and grief twisted through him yet again. It had been almost twenty-five years and he still couldn’t forget the sight of his little sister lying there, like a broken doll.

His arm had been broken and he’d had a concussion from where he’d hit his head when his father threw him, but the worst pain had come from knowing he’d never again wake up to find the little girl snuggling in next to him after a nightmare. They’d only been a year apart and she’d been sweet and gentle and innocent—everything Boone had never been.

“You’re nothing like him.”

The sound of Sloane’s voice pulled him out of the past.

His voice was rusty as he answered, “I look just like him.”

“That’s on the surface,” she said, her eyes soft and gentle. She reached out a hand.

He didn’t know what drove him to take it, but he did.

“My dad walked out on us. I was four and he just left. He walked away from his family farm, walked away from my mom, my brothers…me.” Her voice skipped and she had to clear her throat before she continue. “My brothers and I, we don’t look much alike.”

She looked away and he let himself stair, let himself look at her. A breeze kicked up and blew several strands of her dark brown hair across her cheek. “They look a lot like my mom and my grandfather—her dad. But me?”

A soft sigh escaped her before she looked back at him. “I look like my dad. I’ve got his hair, his eyes…even the shape of my mouth and my nose. I can see it now and I know my mom saw it then. But I’m not my dad. She knew it. I know it. I’m not ever going to walk away from my baby and I don’t walk out of my family.”

She squeezed his hand and moved in closer. “And you’re not your father. You couldn’t raise a hand to a woman.”

“But I have.”

She blinked, startled.

“I spent years hunting down terrorists, Sloane. I’ve killed women before.”

“Did you have a choice?”

The question caught him off guard. He’d been prepared for disgust, for fear, but not for that simple—and honest—question. “I did what had to be done—or what I thought had to be done, at the time.”

She reached up and when she thread her hand into his hair, he didn’t pull away. “You’re not him. Maybe you don’t know shit all about being a father, but that’s because…”

She closed her eyes. Erratic breaths escaped her and he watched as she made a visible effort to calm them.

When she looked at him again, her gaze was serene. “That’s because I didn’t give you a chance. I know what it’s like to have a father who doesn’t care. I didn’t want to take that chance with my baby. She couldn’t be a problem—not even from the beginning.

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