Jaded: Luke
Laurel Creek Series
Hildie McQueen
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Author’s Note
USA Today Bestselling Author
Hildie McQueen
Pink Door Publishing
Editor: Dark Dreams Editing
Copyright Hildie McQueen 2017
ISBN: 978-1-939356-65-9
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
1
There were few things that scared Luke Hamilton shitless, even fewer the times anyone had intimidated him. At six foot, four and two hundred and twenty pounds of solid muscle, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt nervous.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that there was little he gave a shit about most days.
However, the situation at the moment was a bit unsettling. The coolness of a gun’s muzzle at his temple didn’t exactly give him a warm fuzzy.
“Give me your wallet,” the gravely voice, combined with the stale breath of someone who’d not owned a toothbrush in possibly years, made his blood run icy.
Luke’s control was tenuous at best on a regular basis, now with the situation at hand, the hold was quickly unraveling. If this idiot didn’t move away soon, Luke wasn’t sure he could stop from killing the bastard.
Too consumed with getting his next fix, the gunman let out a low growl. “What you waiting for? Have a death wish? Give me your damn wallet.”
The surroundings slowly turned to tones of grey and black, all sound except his heartbeat vanished, and his hands curled into fists.
And now fear decided to make an appearance along with his buddy, the shakes.
“I’m warning you, get away from me.” Luke’s voice sounded detached and calm, almost as if he’d asked the time or the weather.
The first sign shit was about to get bad.
“Sir, put your hands behind your back.” The officer, although polite, ensured to keep his distance.
Somehow he had to get control. Every movement he made, even taking shallow breaths, sent spikes of alarm to his unsettled brain. Luke pushed away from the wall of the dimly lit gas station, shaking so hard he could barely remain standing. Good luck on doing whatever it was the police office instructed.
“I’m a war vet. Got PTSD. Give me a second.”
The chill in the air combined with his sweat drenched t-shirt didn't help Luke regain control and his teeth chattered. Yeah, the whole junkie vibe didn’t help his chances of getting the police officer to believe him.
“Put your hands behind your back now.” The order this time was harsher, and Luke prayed the man would not keep pushing and send him back to shitsville.
Measured footsteps crunched on the gravel and he caught a glimpse of a second pair of black service shoes moving closer. Luke looked up as an older officer joined the first. The familiar eyes met his for an instant.
“What the hell did you do now?”
The first officer didn’t lower his gun. “You know him? He about beat a guy to death. Poor sap is on his way to the ER.”
Detective Johnson, who Luke had met at the local watering hole, came closer but stopped a couple feet away, giving Luke enough room not to feel crowded. The detective’s concerned gaze moved from his bleeding knuckles to Luke’s face. “You gotta do something. I thought you agreed to get counseling.”
“I did. I went to the VA. They didn’t do much more than throw pills at me.” Luke turned to the other officer. “I’ll get in the back of the car, but no handcuffs.”
“Can’t let you do that,” the officer replied without hesitating. “Against policy. You’re under arrest.”
Luke knew the rules. Not the first time this had happened. Finally he let out a breath and lowered his shoulders. “Okay.”
“I’ll do it,” Johnson said over his shoulder to the other officer.
Understanding how fragile Luke’s hold on reality was, Johnson talked to him the entire time as he handcuffed his wrists behind his back. The words sunk in as Luke worked on regulating his breathing in hopes his body would follow suit.
“Thought you had family in Montana. Open country may be what you need. Nothing will get rid of the mess in your head Luke, but you have to do something before you end up killing somebody or...” He left off the rest. Johnson didn’t have to say anything more.
There was always the permanent way out. There was only one guaranteed way not to have to deal with the fucking episodes that hammered at him constantly.
The long drive to Montana from the Dallas-Fort Worth area would take at least three days. There wasn’t any hurry, not like anyone even knew he was headed there.
His family would welcome him home with no hesitation. Behind his back, they’d exchange questioning glances. His mother would fret wondering how long before he left again to not return for another ten years. Much like the old saying, “there’s no place like home”, it was true in this case.
His home was the only stable thing in his life. And also a stark reminder of how much he’d changed.
Luke appeared and disappeared when he felt like it. No need to explain where he was or what he did. His twin brother had made him promise to always keep the same phone number and answer when he called. The calls were infrequent, but often enough for his brother to know he was alive and not in some sort of state institution or something.
About every three months or so Tobias would call, their conversations lasting just a few minutes, enough for his twin to be assured and in turn ensure their parents were informed of his well-being and whereabouts.
So yeah, he had major issues. Hell, didn’t most people have ghosts that came back to haunt them? So maybe the ghosts that disturbed normal folks were nothing like those Luke battled almost daily. Hell, his were more in the classification of demons. Fuckers rarely left him alone long enough to catch a break lately.
Even with music and the windows down, just after Fort Collins, he could barely keep his eyes open. For the past couple of hours, his stomach had been groaning and growling. He supposed the nuts and jerky, he’d eaten hours earlier, were not enough sustenance.
When the truck sputtered Luke glanced at the gas gauge and his brows flew up. “Damn it. Don’t cut off on me now.” He patted the dashboard and let out a breath when spotting an exit ahead.
H
e pulled off the interstate and thankfully there was a lone gas station on the right.
While filling up he glanced around noting there was very little around. The interior of the gas station had meager offerings. The last thing he wanted at the moment was more prepackaged crap.
So he paid for the gas, climbed back into his truck and cranked the engine. He turned away from the interstate onto a two-lane road. With the sun below the horizon, there was barely giving enough light to see the surroundings.
Just a couple miles later the perfect combination of a dingy motel and diner came into view. Once he reserved a room, he went straight towards the neon lights that spilled out over the blacktop. A greasy burger, some fries, and a beer would be a good way to end the day.
Other than an older couple, who no doubt drove the dilapidated RV parked across three parking spaces, the diner was empty.
When the bell over the door dinged, a thin pretty-enough woman, who stood at the counter, looked up. Her eyes widened just enough to let him know she was interested.
Sex would be good.
Luke settled into a tall chair at the long barely clean counter ignoring the older couple that craned their necks to look at him.
In their mind, he was either going to rob the place or shoot them. What was it about older people that they always suspected he’d do something stupid? Then again...
“Nice tattoo.” The girl who’d moved to stand behind the counter looked at the upper arm tattoo that peeked from under the short sleeve of his t-shirt and then lifted her gaze to his. “Good work.”
“Thanks.” Luke ensured to look from her face to her chest giving the illusion he was actually admiring the view.
Judging by the lack of luster in her hair and skin, it was clear as day, she was as dead on the inside as he was.
With an empty gaze, from either working too many hours or a hard life, she tapped her pencil to the top of her pad. “Beer?”
“Got anything stronger?”
“Jack.”
“That works. Also a burger and fries.”
“Got it.” She attempted a smile before turning and walking to peer though an opening to where he assumed was the kitchen. She lifted to her toes and called out the order.
With her ass poked out in his direction she looked over her shoulder at him. “On the rocks or straight up?”
Two shots of Jack and a full belly later, Luke honestly didn’t care if he got laid or not. Claiming her shift had ended, Jenny, Tami or whatever her name was, sat next to him, perched on a stool, her left hand sliding up and down his inner thigh.
Okay that woke little Luke up, and he grunted while shifting in the chair.
“Want some company?” She leaned closer and pressed her lips against his. She tasted of Jack and mint gum. “Let’s have some fun before you get back on the road.”
She slid another shot in front of him and poured one for herself from the bottle she’d brought from behind the counter.
Luke nodded knowing she’d not ask any questions. Hell, she’d not even asked his name yet.
They slammed the shots down and headed to the motel next door.
As soon as they got into the room she lowered to her knees and began unzipping his pants. “Want me to blow you good?”
“Sure.” He watched as she took him into her mouth and began sucking with enthusiasm, while her hands worked his length. Obviously experienced, she was good and didn’t waste time, seeming to know exactly what it took to bring him close to finishing within a few minutes. His eyes practically rolled back by the time she slid his dick out of her mouth and stood.
“Damn you’re hung.” She tugged at her jeans, dragging them down without preamble and then pulled her t-shirt off over her head. Jenny or Terry, wasn’t wearing a bra. Not at all abashed, she sat on the bed, legs dangling over the side. “Your turn. Take your clothes off.”
He didn’t waste time and undressed, ensuring to put his pants on a chair on the other side of the bed. After taking a condom out of his wallet, he leaned over and kissed her while stuffing his wallet under the mattress.
There wasn’t much cash in the thing, but he needed his identification. One never knew with women like Amy or Terry.
Impatient, she took the condom from his hand and bit down, tearing the wrapping open. With swift movements, she sheathed him and peered up at him her eyes bright. “There, now get to work.”
She spread her legs and Luke obliged.
It wasn’t anything close to lovemaking, but more of a race to finish. Ensuring she was satisfied he fucked her until he finally lay spent on the bed with her sprawled over his chest. Interesting that the woman felt comfortable enough to fall asleep, her soft breaths fanning across his chest as he too allowed sleep to take him.
It was still dark the next morning when he slipped out of the motel. Mary or Jenny was still fast asleep on her side, her tussled hair framing her face. The woman was pretty in a no nonsense kind of way. Whatever had brought her to this town was probably the same reason she’d not bothered to ask his name.
Luke didn’t feel right leaving without at least some sort of goodbye, so he’d scribbled a quick note wishing her well and thanking her for a great time.
2
Nothing like Montana. The open sky and rolling hills made him take a deep breath. Seemed a long time since his lungs felt so full. The wind blew into his truck, the wobbling sound reminding him of a helicopter. It didn’t matter he could barely hear the country music blaring from the speakers. In his opinion, the freshness of the clean air was worth it. Not just experiencing the scenery of open land in every direction, but to feel himself surrounded by it all. The wind whipped across Luke’s face and his lips curved.
He turned down Five-Mile road, the familiarity of where he grew up filling him with warmth. Laurel Creek, Montana was one of those places that stayed the same. The town, built in the early eighteen hundreds, had been home to the Hamilton’s since its beginning.
According to the records, his great-great grandparents had arrived with another family, whose daughter was named Laurel. Hence the town’s name. The family picked the area because of its beauty and settled there. Once houses were built, the family farmed for many years before becoming cattle ranchers.
The gate to the Hamilton lands was rarely closed and Luke rolled through the wide opening. Apprehension rolled off his shoulders the familiar surroundings already soothing the tension away. Luke scanned through the windshield in case his brother or cousin were out on horseback.
Cattle ranching had been a prosperous business. For a reason he couldn’t remember now, he’d bucked against his father’s wishes and instead headed off to join the Army. What an idiot. Now he returned with his damn tail between his legs and head all fucked up. If only the younger Luke would have resisted the call to get away. The appeal of what was beyond the small town had intrigued him. He’d gone as far as he could get. Yeah, he got far...too damn far.
The warm air brought the smell of livestock and open land. Every so often the low mooing of cows rang out followed by another.
Home.
In the distance, he spotted a truck rolling over the uneven terrain toward the stables. His brother Tobias, Luke surmised, because the guy always bought the same color vehicle. Every single truck he’d owned was blue. Luke chuckled knowing his brother would have a fit when he saw his truck was almost the same shade.
Not sure why he’d picked the color, except maybe a blue vehicle reminded him of his brother. For some reason, Tobias had it in his head no one else in the family should have a blue truck. One of those things that made his twin an idiot.
The family home came into view. The sprawling ranch house immediately bringing a settling in his gut and he pulled to a stop. Luke closed his eyes and let out a long breath.
So far, so good.
His parents had moved out several years earlier deciding to spend their winters in Florida and summers in a nearby town where they’d purchased a small cottage.
&
nbsp; Now the ranch house, with its six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and huge open floor plan that included kitchen, dining and living rooms housed only his brother and cousin Taylor.
“Well look what the cat coughed up,” his cousin Taylor called out when Luke pulled up to the house. His cousin stood, arms relaxed at his sides with a lazy lopsided grin splitting his tanned face.
Taylor was almost as tall as Luke, but a bit slimmer. Unlike him, his cousin didn’t have to go to the gym to stay in shape. Working a ranch was workout enough.
It would have been preferable to be greeted by his brother. Taylor would take great delight in the situation. The guy never let up, persisting on giving a guy a hard time until getting punched in the gut.
Coming home with one’s tail between the legs was not exactly a rewarding experience. Last thing Luke needed was ribbing from Taylor at the moment.
Taylor sobered and his gaze went from Luke’s face down his body to the truck. Once the assessment was complete there was a shift in his stance and Taylor’s shoulders lowered. Obviously he’d passed some sort of test.
The well-masked trepidation left and his cousin’s warm eyes met his. “Hey Luke, good to see you man.”
“Shouldn’t you be working or something?” Luke refused to let his cousin know how glad he was to see him. “I would have preferred a better looking welcoming committee.”
“Who says you’re welcome.” Taylor went to the truck door and pulled out one of Luke’s bags, not bothering to ask if he was staying. Seemed to know it was best not to broach the subject yet.
Two trips each and the move-in was done. So much for what his life’s possessions added up to.
Taylor dropped down into a chair. “Ex-wife really cleaned you out huh?
“Ya think? Took the house, the car and even the damn dog.” Luke joked, he’d been the one to insist she keep everything.
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