Harley's Achilles (The Rock Series Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

going to take the bike out on the highway. I needed it, ya know? My parents were the same as they’d always been, but it was really starting to bother me. Then he died, and it was like, I don’t know, like somehow I didn’t exist anymore. At least before, they kinda talked to me. They’d ask me to take out the trash or pick up the mail, go grocery shopping. When Holden died, the silence was so loud.”
    I wiped the tear that cascaded down his cheek with my thumb.
    “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this,” Harley snuffled.
    “Because you’ve had enough, I think. Or at least, I hope you have. Did you get Holden’s letter?”
    “What letter?” Harley asked, confused.
    “When we deployed, we all wrote letters to loved ones, in case we didn’t come back. Every soldier does it; well, almost every soldier.”
    “Did you?”
    “Yes, I did, but my parents never got it because I was in Germany in the hospital. Somehow, I lived.”
    “I’m glad, Achilles. I know I bitch, whine and moan, but I’m glad you’re here.”
    “How ʼbout we swim?” I motioned to the pool. “I think my sweat is freezing to my back.”
    “It’s not that cold,” Harley laughed.
    “To you,” I pointed out.
    “Come on.”
     
    We spent the next hour in the pool. Harley was laughing, and the sound of it bounced off the walls. It was good to hear him laugh. I wanted to smack myself for having let my guard down. There was a reason I’d kept my distance from Harley. I knew about his tattoo, I’d seen it in California when the guys were there for Singers . I didn’t want to have to explain it, to see the look on his face when he found out exactly what kind of person I was.
    We dried off and stepped back into the heated house. Harley went to take a shower as I checked my emails and messages. Harley came out of his room dressed, still drying his hair. I grabbed my rucksack and flung it over my shoulder.
    “Okay, I’ll take you to the studio, then I’m going to head home and clean up. I’ll come back with the Tomahawk and meet you there.”
    “You have a home?” Harley snickered.
    “Yes, I do. I live with Buster and Hammer. Stan set us up in a house among all of you.”
    “You don’t have to take me, you know. I can drive.”
    “I figured you’d want to drive the bike back home.” I cocked a brow.
    “You’d let me…drive it?” Harley gaped at me.
    “Of course. Just don’t wreck it with me on the back.”
    Harley grinned and ducked his head, and I swore my heart fluttered in my chest. What the fuck? I needed to man up, dammit.
    I dropped Harley off and continued on to the house Stan had rented for me, Buster and Hammer. Both of their vehicles were in the driveway as I pulled in. Unlike me, they didn’t have one guy specifically assigned to them. I jumped out of my truck and strode up the walk, unlocking the door. Hammer was in the kitchen making something and Buster sat at the table reading the paper.
    “Marc, Kirk.” I nodded as I walked in.
    “How’s Harley?” Hammer asked.
    I sat down at the kitchen table and Marc, otherwise known as Hammer, brought me coffee. I’d sparred with him. ‘Hammer’ fits him nicely.
    “We had an emotional moment yesterday, but I’m convinced what he and his parents are going through is repressed grief.”
    “That guy is going to explode,” Buster said quietly, shaking his head.
    “I have to get him away from his parents. He needs to heal, and he can’t do that when he’s with them. He deserves to be happy, goddammit.”
    Hammer sat down and eyed me closely. “Did we cross a line?”
    “No. I haven’t acted on how I feel.” I leaned back in the chair and folded my arms across my chest, glaring at him.
    “Maybe you should,” Buster suggested.
    “What? You know I can’t do that!”
    “I don’t know, Kirk has a point,” Hammer added. “Maybe if Harley knew that someone cared for him, it would make things easier somehow.”
    “He has friends who care for