Bridges Burned

Table of Contents Bridges Burned Copyright Other Series in the Same World Mission Mercenary Series Synopsis Prologue 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 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Social Media Links OTHER BOOKS FROM MARIE JAMES Bridges Burned A Mission Mercenary Novel Marie James Copyright Bridges Burned: A Mission Mercenary Novel Copyright © 2022 Marie James Editing by Marie James Betas & Ms. K Edits EBooks are not transferable. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale, or organizations is entirely coincidental. Other Series in the Same World Cerberus MC Blackbridge Security Ravens Ruin MC Hale Series Mission Mercenary Series Lessons Learned Mistakes Made Bridges Burned Depravity Delivered Redemption Refused Synopsis I didn’t swear vengeance on the Severino Family after Ellie’s death. I was only a child after all. I didn’t swear vengeance when my father, a coward who wasn’t man enough to seek justice for her, drank himself into a divorce. Going after the men that set all of that into motion would be a death sentence. I chose to live my life in the shadows, seeking revenge for others. That was until I ran into the very man that took Ellie’s life. I can still smell the smoke clinging to my skin from all the bridges I burned because of that man. Walking away was no longer an option. Killing him would be easy, but taking the woman that was promised to him seemed like a better wager. Exacting retribution through her was the gamble I made. Surviving her now seems impossible. Prologue Hollis 10 Years Old I angle my head a little to the right, but it doesn’t help me hear the television any better. Closing my eyes only makes the noise louder. My chin trembles, but I refuse to let the tears fall. I’m not a little kid anymore. Crying won’t help me, but the tears I hear in my mom’s voice cut me in a way I can’t explain. “You don’t understand,” Dad mutters, his words sounding different right now than they used to. “I do,” Mom argues. “I understand what it’s like to lose someone. You’re right in front of me, but you’re already gone.” He huffs, a familiar sound these last couple of years. Dad changed when Patrick, his partner in the police force, died. Patrick changed when Ellie died. I miss her, and I think a part of me always will, but I miss my dad, too. Mom is right. He’s here, but he’s not. The man I knew, the one who couldn’t get his gun belt off fast enough after his shift to throw a baseball with me, hasn’t made it to a game all season. They don’t think I hear the arguments. I can tell they try to keep their voices down, but Dad struggles with his volume after he starts drinking. “It’s not the same!” he yells, and I can picture him raising his arms before letting them fall at his sides. He’s always done this when he’s upset. “He was like a brother to me! Ellie was like a daughter!” “And you have a son,” she says as if he needs a reminder, as if he couldn’t remember me himself. I swallow against the threat of tears. I know I lost a part of Dad the day Patrick was buried beside his daughter. I know Patrick lost a lot of himself the day he got the call about her accident. Accident. That’s what everyone says when they speak about it around me, as if I’m a baby that needs protecting. What people don’t realize is I have ears. I listen all the time. What else could I do over the last two years when others around me are spiraling out of control? I heard Mom use the phrase regarding Dad, but I didn’t understand it fully until recently, until the argument about him losing his job due to drinking. I heard them mention Ellie and her accident a hundred times in front of me, but the conversation is different when I’m listening outside of the room. Several men hurt Ellie. Men who Dad and Patrick could identify but for some reason couldn’t arrest. Patrick had an accident, too, only a couple of months after Ellie’s “accident”, but it still makes no sense to me. He was a cop. He’d been trained on gun safety. Dad blames the bad men that hurt Ellie, but the whiskey he drinks hasn’t made it any better. “Do you think Patrick would do this if the tables were turned? Would Patrick drink himself into an early grave if Ellie were still alive?” Silence follows, but I don’t understand why Dad doesn’t know the answer. Ellie was Patrick’s world. He’d never do anything that would hurt her. “You know he wouldn’t,” Mom answers for him. “Please, just sign the papers.” “I’ll do better,” Dad says, sounding like the broken man I’ve become all too familiar with recently. “It’s too late, Ray. Sign the papers.” He begs