“You didn’t finish,” Flynn said, guilt catching in his throat. “Are you going to get into trouble because of me?”
Bolt’s jaw tightened. “We don’t give a damn if we do. Saving you was the call, and we made it without thought.” His glance flicked to Bear, unrepentant.
The big man didn’t say a word.
“As far as I’m concerned,” Shamrock added, “we all won, and we ended Hell Week with a bang.” His eyes burned with the same fierce pride Bolt’s voice carried.
M&M’s voice softened. “We’re forever grateful. If you’re ever in Parker County, you’ve got a meal and a bed waiting.”
“Appreciate that, ma’am,” Bolt said with a grin. “Though I’ll pass on the drowning part next time.”
Shamrock leaned in and clasped Flynn’s hand. “Told you we’d keep you breathin’, lad.”
Flynn matched the grip. “You did that, all right. I won’t forget it.”
Bear’s gaze met his. “Get strong. Stay on the sand a while.”
Flynn studied him, the calm, the authority, the quiet steadiness that made the air feel anchored. That’s what I want to be, he thought.
“Yes, sir.”
The men left a few minutes later, boots echoing down the corridor, their laughter trailing behind them. The room felt larger and emptier without them.
M&M sighed, half in relief. “Good men. Heroes.” Her eyes found his, the light in them bright and worried.
Flynn watched the doorway. “That’s what they do. They save strangers, M&M. They serve.”
Clint’s voice was low. “The Navy’ll be lucky to get you, boy.”
Flynn’s grin was soft but certain. “I think I have what they have. I think it’s always been in me.” Warrior. The word fit like skin. “I think I just met the men who can strengthen it.”
A shiver ran through him. They would strip him down, peel away the layers hiding the killer instinct he’d always felt humming under his skin and teach him how to make it count. They would chip off what didn’t belong until only purpose remained.
The stakes were higher now that he knew. Pushing past limits wasn’t just something he admired. It was what he craved. God, he wanted it. It would finally answer the question that had haunted him all his life. Who am I?
The monitor kept beeping, steady as a heartbeat, as sunlight cut across the bed. Somewhere inside him, the ocean beckoned, the brotherhood called to him, and his heart beat hard in answer.
Flynn had been running on a buzz ever since that night.
The storm. The waves. The men, machines who’d dragged him from the water and brought him back to life. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw their silhouettes cutting through the surf, paddles flashing in lightning, voices low, steady, unshakable.
He’d talked their ears off on the beach afterward, demanding names, ranks, what-the-hell-was-that training, until one of them, Cormac “Shamrock,” the one with the wicked grin, told him, “Boat Crew Two, lad. Hell Week. Remember it.”
He had. Every damn second of it.
He’d left the hospital with fire under his skin. For three straight days, he’d lived online, devouring everything he could find: documentaries, Navy briefings, interviews with SEALs, training breakdowns, books. Hell Week, six days of no sleep, freezing surf, constant punishment. The bell you rang when you quit. He swore to God, even if he never made it that far, he’d never ring that bell.
Those men had looked half-dead and twice as alive as anyone he’d ever met. One in particular stuck in his head, the quiet one. Big, broad shoulders, black hair dripping into calm eyes that looked like they’d already seen too much. Dakota Locklear. Bear. The name fit. Solid. Grounded. Unmovable.
Flynn had replayed that image over and over.
Now he stood outside the chain-link gate of Naval Amphibious Base Coronado, the ocean behind him glittering in late sun, the salt wind carrying the faint clang of metal and the distant bark of orders.
“Kid, what are you doing here?” the gate guard asked.
He adjusted his backpack, pulse hammering. He didn’t belong here, not yet, but he couldn’t wait anymore. The place called to him, and somewhere beyond that fence was the man who’d changed everything.
“I need to speak with someone. An instructor at BUD/S, Dakota Locklear…Bear.”
