“It was an ambitious mission by all standards,” Quadros continued, his fingertips running through his beard as he spoke. “He should have been commanding the op from base, but one of our guys rolled his ankle and Halsted refused to send in the rookie. The mission was high-value hostage recovery, and it had been scrubbed and rescheduled more times than I could track before the green light came in October. We had to act fast; all the intel pointed to the captors pulling the hostage’s card any day.”
He paused to sip his beer and I turned back to Will, my brows pinched in confusion.
Why didn’t you tell me?
“It started with a long-range infil, which is a nice way of saying they dropped us on the far end of West Nowhere, and we had to get our asses to the east side without anyone noticing. We launched an attack on the hostage’s location, got him out, and made it to the exfil site to meet the helicopter without as much as a sneeze. We weren’t in the air more than a minute before the RPG blew us right out of the sky. Not my first helicopter crash, but…” He nodded toward the prosthesis. “But probably my last.”
I glanced back at Will while this story unfolded, and we stared at each other across the room. Something passed between us…acceptance, forgiveness, understanding…something.
“He talked the whole fucking time. Said you’re a damn smart lawyer and ass-kicking business lady. That you’d probably kick his ass for not getting home on time, and he’d probably like it, too. That me bleeding out in the middle of the desert would mean he was stuck carrying dead weight, and that would just take him longer so I wasn’t allowed to die. Not on his watch.”
You should have told me yourself.
“He should’ve left me there,” Quadros continued. “He should’ve tied off my wound and gotten the hostage to safety, but he knew the insurgents would swarm the helicopter. He knew I’d be dead and he didn’t give it a second thought when he tossed me on his back and got us the fuck outta there. It screwed up his shoulder and for that alone, he probably won’t see combat again.”
Those scars.
“I understand why he’s retiring. I know it’s not public knowledge yet, but…I’ve heard and I understand. This life…it takes a lot out of you. And he’s given a lot. I don’t know any more dedicated, hard-driving sailor than Halsted. He just gets shit done, time after time, and when it isn’t getting done, he’s there fixing it himself until it’s right.”
For the second time in a matter of weeks, I wanted to hold him close, and then I wanted to slap the shit out of him.
“If you’ll excuse me…”
Chapter Twenty-Five
WILL
Shannon walked acrossthe room, her eyes trained on mine, until she was right in front of me. She pressed a beer bottle into my hand and tilted her head, staring at my dick like it had insulted her country and faith.
“This thing you do,” she said, gesturing to my crotch. “Where you tuck in a portion of your shirt right at the belt buckle? I know why you’re doing it. You want everyone to notice your abs.”
I glanced to Quad, and then back to Shannon. It was good to see him in town for Gus’s wedding after everything he’d been through. All I’d lost was feeling in my fingers, and I couldn’t make sense of life. This kid lost everything below the knee, and was already back to work. It was a desk job, but he was back at it.
“And here I thought they’d notice my cock,” I said.
“That presumes there’s something worth noticing,” she said.
“That’s not what you said last night,” I said. “Or this morning. Or a couple of hours ago, in the shower. Would you like me to continue?”
She plucked the beer from my hands and took a long sip. “Look, William. Your ego is very fragile. I can’t go around crushing your self-esteem now, can I?”
“What did Quad say to you?” I asked.
“Why have you been parked in my apartment for the past month?”
“Because I wanted to see you for more than a weekend. I wanted to wake up in the same place for an entire month, and I wanted you there with me,” I said, and that was the most honest approximation I could find. “And I have to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.”
Her lips flattened as her eyes closed, her frustration with me as clear as day. “Why didn’tyoujust tell me that?”
“I was going to.” Shrugging, I snatched the bottle out of her hand. “Eventually. But, as you might recall, you weren’t too interested in talking to me. You banished me to the guest room and threw fruit at me, and while you’re at it, remind yourself there was a Douchelord in your apartment a fewweeksago. You’re mine, and when I went to you, you werewiththat genital wart.”
“We broke up,” she said, her eyes flashing with anger.
“You’remine,” I repeated. “Trust me; I was wise to your game. That little distraction to get you through? Did it help?”
Shaking her head, she stared at the ground. “No,” she admitted. “Nothing helped, and when you didn’t come back in September, that’s when I knew it was really over.”
Fuck.There was nothing I’d wanted more than to get a message to Shannon, to explain that I had to see the mission through, that I’d come for her when I was done. I could have called her when I was at the base hospital in Germany, but I was afraid she’d only take me back because I was injured, and I didn’t want the pity-love she reserved for Sam.
