Silent Vigilante: Brandon's Story, page 1
part #18 of Enigma Series
Silent Vigilante
Shandi Boyes
Copyright
Copyright © 2020 by Shandi Boyes
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing: Swish Design and Editing
Proofreading: Swish Design and Editing
Second Proof: Magnolia Author Services
Cover: SSB Covers and Design
Photograph: Lindee Robinson Photography
Model: Blake McKinney
Dedication
For those seeking courage,
You don’t need to be the biggest dog to have the loudest bark. Just like you don’t need to be the most vicious to have the toughest bite.
Be you, as there is no one fiercer than a person who knows their capabilities.
Shandi xx
Playlist
You Said You’d Grow Old With Me - Michael Schlute
In Case You Didn’t Know - Boyce Avenue
Supermarket Flowers - Ed Sheehan
No Matter What - Calum Scott
Memories - Shawn Mendes
Yesterdays Gone - Angels Fall
One Call Away - Charlie Puth
You can find Shandi’s entire playlist here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0XfLHAaHPCuEtRGKIhko5X
Also by Shandi Boyes
Perception Series:
Saving Noah
Fighting Jacob
Taming Nick
Redeeming Slater
Saving Emily (Novella)
Wrapped up with Rise Up (Novella - should be read after Bound)
Enigma:
Enigma
Unraveling an Enigma
Enigma: The Mystery Unmasked
Enigma: The Final Chapter
Beneath the Secrets
Beneath the Sheets
Spy Thy Neighbor
The Opposite Effect
I Married a Mob Boss
Second Shot
The Way We Are
The Way We Were
Sugar and Spice
Lady in Waiting
Man in Queue
Couple on Hold
Enigma: The Wedding
Silent Vigilante
Hushed Guardian
Quiet Protector
Bound Series:
Chains
Links
Bound
Restrained
Psycho
Russian Mob Chronicles:
Nikolai: A Mafia Prince Romance
Nikolai: Taking Back What's Mine
Nikolai: What's Left of Me
Nikolai: Mine to Protect
Asher: My Russian Revenge
Nikolai: Through the Devil's Eyes
RomCom Standalones:
Just Playin'
The Drop Zone
Ain't Happenin'
Christmas Trio
Falling for a Stranger
Coming Soon:
Skitzo
Trey
Want to stay in touch?
Facebook: facebook.com/authorshandi
Instagram: instagram.com/authorshandi
Email: authorshandi@gmail.com
Reader’s Group: bit.ly/ShandiBookBabes
Website: authorshandi.com
Contents
1. Brandon
2. Melody
3. Brandon
4. Brandon
5. Melody
6. Brandon
7. Brandon
8. Brandon
9. Brandon
10. Brandon
11. Brandon
12. Brandon
13. Melody
14. Brandon
15. Brandon
16. Brandon
17. Melody
18. Melody
19. Brandon
20. Brandon
21. Melody
22. Brandon
23. Melody
24. Brandon
25. Brandon
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Shandi Boyes
Blurb
Protect, honor, obey, and serve.
Four words I was raised by.
Four words I live by.
Four words that may very well kill me as I endeavor to keep them alight.
Years ago, I pledged to protect her. I swore an oath to never let her down. However, I didn’t know back then that not all your enemies wear camouflage.
Some share your blood.
Silent Vigilante is a heart-pumping romantic suspense novel about a boy who made a promise his father will never let him keep and a girl whose family has just as many secrets.
This book has adult scenes and triggers that may be distressing for some readers. Caution is advised. It is book one of a duet.
Brandon
Six years old.
“Here. We can hide down here.”
I flip over the bright pink ruffle skirt on Melody’s Minnie Mouse bedspread before crawling under her bed. A cold breeze whistles through the cracks in the bendy floorboards, and it’s dusty and dark, but I can keep Melody safe down here like I pinkie promised her dad two days after we met.
Melody had never lived in the country before. She came from one of those towns with big buildings that go all the way up into the sky. My horses scared her. My dogs scared her. Pretty much anything that moved scared her… except my mom and me. That’s probably because we arrived to greet our new neighbors with freshly baked cookies. Only a silly person would be scared of peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies.
Melody isn’t silly. She’s really, really pretty.
Madden thinks so too.
I hate that my brother wants to be Melody’s friend too, but Melody tells me I don’t have to be mad. She thinks Madden is weird. He kind of is. For one, he doesn’t like chocolate. Who doesn’t like chocolate? I love chocolate. Do you?
When Melody joins me under her bed, I get a pain in my chest when I see how much water is in her eyes. They’re so full, they are about to burst like our water balloons did earlier today when I filled them with too much water. I don’t like it when Melody cries. It makes me sad.
After balancing my sweaty head on Melody’s forehead, I cup my best friend’s ears with my chubby hands. Mommy says Melody has doll’s eyes because they’re always twinkling. I think they’re one of the things that make her pretty. They’re as sparkly as the marbles digging in my hip and just as big.
I should’ve swapped sides with Melody, then she’d be better protected from the man chasing us down, and I wouldn’t have a sore backside tomorrow. Marbles hurt. Not as much as Daddy’s belt when Mommy goes to grandma’s house, but they make some of the gloss in Melody’s eyes jump into mine.
I won’t cry, I’m too brave for that. Mr. Gregg tells me that very thing every time he sees me. I like his praise. He’s so nice to me. When I look up at the stars stuck to the ceiling in my room, I wish for him to become my dad. He doesn’t have much money, and he leaves his home for a long, long time to work, but he’s still a good dad.
Melody’s eyes shine with more wetness when the creak of the stairs in her family ranch vibrates through the gap in my fingers. According to my mom, I’m still carrying baby fat, so I should be able to block out the vibrations making Melody scared, but I’m not. I’m nose-bombing—again.
I’m still in trouble from pretending to be sick last week. Unlike two of my older brothers, Madden and Phoenix, I don’t like going hunting with our dad. Watching Madden burn the wings off butterflies with a magnifying glass makes my tummy feel yucky, so I don’t want to see what he does to the deer they catch. Just the thought has the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches Melody and I ate at lunch creeping up my food pipe.
Don’t they know what they’re doing is wrong? Melody and I watched a special show with Melody’s mommy one day that said even killing something as little as an ant can be catastrophic.
When you hurt something on purpose, you can cause a tornado. I don’t want to cause a tornado, they make a lot of mess, so every time my dad packs up his big truck to go hunting, I pretend I’m sick. It makes him not like me, and he calls me names when Mommy isn’t around, but I’m sure once he realizes I’m stopping our house from being demolished by a tornado, he’ll love me again. Maybe.
Determined to show my dad I’m as brave as Mr. Gregg says, I wiggle closer to my very best friend in the world. Once Melody’s heart is felt thumping against my chest, I calm the fear in her eyes as her daddy taught me. “One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi…” By the time I reach five, Melody counts with me. She doesn’t speak the words I do, but her lips mimic the movements mine make.
She’s as brave as me. I just forget all the time because she’s so pretty. You can’t be brave and pretty at the same time.
I don’t think.
“Six Mississippi. Seven—” I clutch my ears to stop Melody’s screams from piercing my eardrums when her ankle is grabbed, and she’s pulled out from beneath her bed. She holds her arms out for me to grab her, but I’m too slow. She’s yanked away from me too quickly.
“No! Mellowy!” As I crawl out from beneath her bed, my heart makes a weird boom-boom, boom-boom noise. I can feel it in my throat. It’s right where my roar-box sits, which I use a second later while charging for the man taking Melody away from me.
He wobbles more than you’d think when I push him in his stomach, and my leg barely touches his ankles when I try to swipe his feet out from beneath him, but he topples to the ground with a thud, making me leap into the air like a bullfrog.
I should be scared or crying in fear of the punishment I could face if my father finds out what I did, but I can’t stop smiling about the praise Mr. Gregg bombards me with for taking him down. “Yes, Brandon! Well done. You saved Melody just like you’ve been taught.”
After placing a grinning Melody onto her feet, her daddy makes his way to me. He messes up my snow-white hair with his fingers before pulling me into his ginormous chest for a hug. “I’m so proud of you, Brandon.” He tugs at the messy brown, green, and cream material of his pants before kneeling next to me, meeting me eye to eye. My father wears the same pants when he goes to work, but I’ve never seen his eyes shine as brightly as Mr. Gregg’s when he signs to Melody and me, “Remember, brave men and women always protect, honor, obey, serve—”
“And eat cookies!” Melody and I sign in sync, giggling.
“Yes, cookies,” Melody’s dad responds both verbally and through sign language.
With an arm around each of our waists, he carries Melody and me down the stairs of her family ranch like we’re the big bag he throws over his shoulder every time he goes to work. The clomp, clomp, clomp of his boots on the old stairwell makes my stomach rattle as much as my teeth. He’s so big, every step he takes makes me feel like my bones are going to pop out of their skin.
When we enter the kitchen, my mouth salivates. Mrs. Gregg is removing peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies from the oven. They’re my favorite, and the exact cookies Mrs. Gregg bakes for me every time I do Mr. Gregg’s special drills.
Melody slaps a hand over her still misty eyes when Mr. Gregg plants a big sloppy kiss onto Mrs. Gregg’s lips. She thinks it’s gross when they kiss. I kind of like it.
Not them kissing… eww! They’re really old, like nearly at the age of death, so I don’t like watching them suck face like the kissing fish at the aquarium. My tummy gets a squidgy feeling wondering what Melody would do if I kissed her like her dad always kisses her mom. Will I get girl germs like my brothers say? And if I do, will those germs kill me?
I must be extra brave today because even with death being a possibility, I lean across Mr. Gregg’s huge and hard stomach to press my lips to Melody’s cheek. I don’t die, and she doesn’t pull away, but I don’t think cooties kill you when you kiss a girl.
I think their daddies do.
Melody
Ten years old.
I plop onto the soggy ground with a huff, annoyed, cold, and hungry. It doesn’t take my best friend long to notice I’ve stopped running through the knee-high fields that border our family homes. He was holding my hand right up until the stage I decided to quit. I’m tired of the drills my father makes us do every weekend. I just want to watch movies and eat popcorn like a regular kid.
“Mellowy, what are you doing?”
The pain in my chest lessens at Brandon’s purposeful incorrect signaling of my name. He’s still learning his Ds, so he leaves them out while communicating with me via sign language. A bug made my mommy sick when I was growing in her tummy, so my ears didn’t work when I was born. There’s a special thingamabob the doctors can put on my ears, but since it costs a lot of money, I haven’t got one yet. Daddy says I’ll get one soon, but I’m not worried. Brandon can understand me, and that’s all that matters.
Brandon taps my shoulder to return my focus to him before signing, “We have to keep going. He is coming for us.”
“Let him come. I am tired.” The slow movements of my hands reveal the honesty of my reply. I’m zonked.
Brandon shakes his head. “We can’t give up. Giving up isn’t an option.” He bends down until his big hazel eyes meet mine. He had a growth spurt this year, but I’m still exactly an inch taller than him—not that he’ll ever admit it. “Just a little bit further, okay? I can see the fort we built last month just over there.”
My eyes stray in the direction he’s pointing. Although I can see the fort made out of sticks, branches, and mesh camo material, I still want to stay put. This isn’t normal. Mrs. Sprigs, my school guidance counselor, told me so, and if you take Brandon out of the equation, none of my friends think this is normal either.
I don’t want bad men to hurt my mommy like they did five years ago, but I don’t want to keep remembering either. The nightmares make me wake up in the middle of the night with soaked clothes. I don’t know if my sheets are wet because I sweat so much while running away from the bad men chasing me, or if it’s from the tears I cry when they catch me. If the wet patches that circle Brandon’s shirt every time he wakes me from a nightmare are anything to go by, I think tears are to blame.
Before the bad men broke into my house, my daddy was a fun man. He taught me how to ride a bike and didn’t care that the men in his barracks didn’t like his bedazzled duffle bag. I made it for him, so he loved it.
He still uses the duffle bag I prettied up for him, but I haven’t seen his real smile in a very long time. He gives us the fake one he gave Grandma whenever she visited. I know why he gave her his pretend smile. She was mean and a big ‘O’ word I can’t pronounce much less sign. My mommy said it meant she thought she was better than my daddy. I think that makes my grandma a cow. No man is better than my daddy except perhaps Brandon. But he’s not really a man. He’s just a boy. A very handsome boy who pretends he’s bigger than he is when we do our fathers’ drills.
“Hop on my back. I will piggyback you,” Brandon signs, smiling when he demonstrates the sign for piggyback.
My heart goes bang, bang, bang against my chest when he glances at me, waiting for my response. It does the same thing anytime his big, chubby cheeks turn the color of the roses my daddy buys my mommy. My mom says boys who blush are boys worth fighting for. I don’t know what that means, but I think it might have something to do with the time I pushed Tania Rich off the swing because I didn’t like the kissy faces she was giving Brandon. Brandon is my best friend, so he can’t be her friend too, can he?
When Brandon’s snow-white brow disappears into his hair, I sign, “I am bigger than you, BJ. You can’t carry me across a sloshy field.”
He pulls a face like I’m silly. “Yes, I can. Hop on. I will show you.” He twists around until his back is facing me, then he gestures for me to climb aboard.
I tap his shoulder to gain his attention before asking, “Are you sure?”
I could walk, but I’m so interested in discovering how strong Brandon is that when he nods his head assuring me he’s tough, I leap onto his back like a frog.
A grunt rumbles through his body before he magically stands to his feet and takes three hesitant steps forward. He can’t see my face, but I make sure my hands are in front of his before signing, “You are doing it, BJ!”
I’m so proud of him, I want to plant a sloppy kiss onto his cheek like he did to mine years ago, but before I can, the man who made Brandon pinkie promise to protect me for eternity snatches me off his back.
