Page 93 of Her Summer Hope

It was his dream come to life.

He felt his guilt over James McClellan recede just a bit more. He didn’t think it would ever go away completely.

After a few more rounds and some stories from their days in the service, Kyle excused himself, feeling a bit lighter. He headed back through the woods, taking the long route.

That's when he stumbled upon Murdock.

Shirtless, his scars on full display, Murdock was a flurry of motion, attacking the wooden dummies with a ferocity that was both impressive and slightly unnerving. His movements were fluid and deadly, a dance of controlled aggression and brutal violence honed by years of training.

"Damn, Murdock, ever heard of a punching bag?" Kyle joked, watching as Murdock's bare fists and feet struck the wood with thuds.

Murdock paused, panting, and glanced at Kyle, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"Punching bags are too soft and they don't fight back. Need something that feels more... real."

Kyle nodded, understanding the need for something tangible to destroy. "Just don't take out all the trees, we might need them for cover."

Murdock smirked, a rare sight, and swiped his sweaty hair back with both bloody hands. Kyle saw streaks of red in the blonde strands.

Cal swigged some water and resumed his training, picking up two wicked-looking blades. He started doing knife drills with both hands, displaying his ambidexterity in the skill. He wouldn’t ever want to take Murdock on in a knife fight.

Kyle sat down to watch.

The man took another break after a good ten minutes of rapid attack drills.

Kyle’s smile faded as he observed Murdock’s grim expression. "You ever worry you're going too far?"

Murdock scoffed, a humorless sound that echoed in the stillness of the woods. "Too far? No such thing. You don’t survive by holding back."

Murdock had an uncompromising nature that bordered on the dark. He had his own code, one that didn’t always align with conventional ethics, but it was a code that had kept him alive so far through some pretty deep shit.

"You know, not everything is a fight, Cal," Kyle said, pushing himself up from the log. "Sometimes it’s okay to step back."

Murdock resumed his assault on the dummies, his movements almost a blur. "Retreat is not an option. Not for me."

Kyle watched for a moment longer before continuing on his way, wishing he could take on some of his own demons that easily.

Murdock had never spoken of his hatred of women, never blatantly acted on it, but Kyle knew it had something to do with his time under the Taliban’s “care”.

His strikes carried finesse, yes, but they also carried a deep-seated rage. Every block of wood was an enemy to be killed, to triumph over, or a woman to get back at the only way he could.

He had hoped that Murdock having the woods to disappear into might help heal him a bit, or maybe temper his rage, but it just seemed to invite him to become even more uncivilized, savage.

He didn’t know what to do with him. Didn’t know if there was anything to do with him. Like Murdock said, some men couldn’t ever go back. Some were too far gone.

He gritted his teeth and sniffed hard. “Damn it, McClellan. You should be here.”

At the edge of the woods, he pulled out his phone, finger hovering over Maddy’s name. He froze and blew out a breath.

Not yet.

There was something else he needed to do first.

Chapter Twenty-One

Madison

Madison stood at the sink, her hands mechanically moving through the soapy water as she scrubbed the breakfast dishes.