Page 31 of Dark Side of the Cloth (The Righteous 1)
He bent over and took a breath, his heart beating fast in his chest. Dean didn’t know why, but his father’s face came to mind, a man he despised, and he quickly pushed the image aside.
He took another shuddering breath and then jumped off the other side towards the dark water. Dean judged the landing as his body sped up and raced towards the blackness. Doing as he’d been taught, he made his body torpedo straight as his feet touched the water. The sudden cold was shocking to his system, and his muscles jerked and spasmed. He yelled, only bubbles forming as his legs and feet cramped up.
Keep moving. You must keep moving.
Submerged in the cold darkness, Dean saw his father’s face again, the image of a gangster, a killer, a monster. A man he never wanted to be like, yet here he was, learning to be the very best killer he could be.
He’d run from home as soon as he could. He found his opening one night and took it and never looked back. The person his father had wanted him to become was never going to happen. Did his father wonder where he was? He didn’t know, and he didn’t give a shit. This place was his escape. This was where he belonged: fighting for his country, fighting for his brothers, fighting for the innocent—fighting for himself.
Fighting through the extreme pain, he kicked his legs and reached for the surface of the water. The safety diver gave him a thumbs-up, and he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as he swam the rest of the way to shore.
Dean pulled himself out of the water. It shouldn’t have been physically possible to do it, but he stood tall—his chest was pushed out, hands at his sides. His Master Sergeant walked toward him, clipboard in hand, and he showed off all the checkmarks on the list.
“A hundred percent, not an easy feat. You were cut out for this, son.”
Pride coursed through his body. “Hooah, Sir!”
