It was hard to explain to weird undercurrent that hovered in the air of the clubhouse. Some men were laughing as they chatted up the women, others were playing pool or darts, hell even the dance floor was starting to get packed. To the naked eye you wouldn't even know that something was...off.

But every now and then you got a little glimpse of it. Fists tightening on a bottle or the arm of chair, a face twisting in a brief memory or the sudden blankness that would cloud a man's eyes. All the signs that the men were...coping, as strange as that sounds.

For the most part all those involved were already on their way to being drunk off their asses. Hell I would be concerned if they weren't. Drinking was a normal reaction, it was those who internalized it and didn't show any signs of distress that concerned me. And that was what I watching out for. If they couldn't cope with death and tragedy then they would not be useful to me.

"Another beer Phoenix?" Mac asked as he took up the seat next to me. He was one of the few I didn't have to worry about. As an ex-Navy Seal the man was a pro at coping, hell he was trained for it.

"Nah I am good. Any concerns on your end?" I liked that I had someone with the same level of experience. Mac was good at bouncing ideas off of and was great at strategizing. Hell, it was because of him and I hate to admit it, Axel that we were able to move so quickly.

Within a week of showing up on the Renegades doorstep, our team was prepared and ready to head out. The men respected Axel, Mac, Hawk and Tank so the men had no problem taking orders from them. I was impressed as hell on how well we moved together as a unit.

It was times like those that the memories of my team would surface. A team I spent years with traipsing all across the fucking desert taking out threat after threat.   We moved as one, knowing each other as well as we knew ourselves.   All these years later, I still missed that feeling, and as each of them were lowered into the ground, that connection was buried with them, gone forever.   

"Just Axel. I just came from his office, he is unconscious already." Well shit that was quick. Most men were still a couple drinks away from that point. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised, the man lived in denial and refused to deal with his emotions.

"He served didn't he?" 

"Just three years, bullet fucked up his knee. The man may be an alcoholic asshole, but he is a hell of a leader and warrior. Maybe if he was in longer it would have knocked that chip off his shoulder. I will keep my eye on him. Also...I think seeing those women with whip marks really got to him."

Crap that correlation never even dawned on me. Harley suffered the same type of abuse the night she was raped. Knowing something and seeing it firsthand were two completely different things. The two girls I unchained from the walls...fuck, their bodies were littered with large gashes and my body shivered at the thought of Harley looking the same.

Christ, how the hell did she survive that? And on her own. My respect for the woman increased tenfold. Thinking of my dear friend I realized I haven't touched base with her in a few days and needed to do so.

"How is she?" I knew Harley wasn't taking his calls, so he asked me that question constantly. Hell if I didn't have the cabin she was staying in rigged with cameras, she probably wouldn't take mine either. I didn't give her a choice.

"Struggling. Can't stop crying, barely eating or sleeping. I sent in a housekeeper to cook for her and clean up. I threatened to show up if she continued to refuse her basic needs. I will check the camera's tomorrow to see if she is holding up any better. What we just witnessed, she lived, although on a smaller scale, but rape and torture are still that..."

Quietness seemed to settle over Mac and I in the noisy clubhouse as we both lost ourselves in thoughts. It was painful knowing and seeing the results of such hateful acts, poor Harley. And poor Axel...shit, now I was sort of feeling sorry for the man. Sure I loved Harley, but I wasn't IN love with her, not like Axel.   No wonder the man drank himself unconscious.   

I knew those images were going to be burned into his brain for a long time. Hell I don't think a man in here were likely to forget anytime soon.  Again, I fell into that category. 

Draining my beer and placing the bottle in the trash, I took survey of the men one more time. So far no one seemed to be flipping out, but I would have to wait and see. Luckily they had the time to get a grip on it.   I knew it would be a few weeks until my next assignment, Agent Timmons had his hands full of a while.

Plus the Renegades still needed to decide if they were in or out. Hell after all this, even I was contemplating taking a break. I knew I never would but the thought did cross my mind but then the image of one of the beaten girl thanking me in a whisper before she hugged her small baby to her chest...that was the image that kept me going.

But the Renegades weren't me. This life chose me and in return I chose it. I knew I would never walk away.

They still had that option.