Justifying Jack (The Wounded Warriors book 2)
“Huffing, he made his way over to the kitchen counter where he placed the heavy box of dishes down. Looking around the bright yellow space with honey oak cabinetry and white appliances, he was surprised to note his sense of loss. I can't believe he's really moving out. I hadn't realized how much I actually enjoyed having him home again.
“Aarrggghhh!” The unmistakable cry of his son, followed by a crash, had Malcolm running through the rambler.
“Jack!” he called, worry sharp in his voice as he ra...ced down the hallway towards the back bedroom. “Jack, are you okay?”
“Son of a bitch!” Jack cursed, throwing his cane across the room. It smacked loudly against the wall before clattering atop a mess of fallen boxes.
“What happened?” Malcolm inquired, his eyes washing over his son, ensuring his safety, and then towards the discarded cane.
“I caught that damn thing on the bedframe,” Jack growled angrily. “Then I tripped into that stack of boxes, knocking them over.”
Malcolm felt confused by the level of response Jack was displaying.MoreLess
“Aarrggghhh!” The unmistakable cry of his son, followed by a crash, had Malcolm running through the rambler.
“Jack!” he called, worry sharp in his voice as he ra...ced down the hallway towards the back bedroom. “Jack, are you okay?”
“Son of a bitch!” Jack cursed, throwing his cane across the room. It smacked loudly against the wall before clattering atop a mess of fallen boxes.
“What happened?” Malcolm inquired, his eyes washing over his son, ensuring his safety, and then towards the discarded cane.
“I caught that damn thing on the bedframe,” Jack growled angrily. “Then I tripped into that stack of boxes, knocking them over.”
Malcolm felt confused by the level of response Jack was displaying.MoreLess
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