“I’m not sure we’re going to solve that issue,” said River. He looked at his watch and then at his brothers. “Priscilla’s gonna be worried we’re not back yet. I’m sure she’s anxious to hear what happened.”
“I’d like to hear what happened,” frowned Quinn. “I went numb after, ‘thank you gentlemen for your service’.”
“It will all work out,” said River slapping his brother’s back. He and Finnegan began walking toward the house then turned, waiting for Quinn. “Quinn?”
“Hold on,” he said staring off down the beach. “Are you guys seeing what I’m seeing?”
Before they could answer, his shoes were off and he was running in full dress uniform, sans shoes, down the beach.
“Well, shit,” muttered Finnegan. “So much for retirement.”
They could see what he was seeing a good two-hundred yards down the beach. A man was gripping the ponytail of a woman, dragging her kicking and screaming down the beach.
Quinn got there first, stepping in front of the man, his big hand in the center of his chest.
“Let me go!” yelled the woman.
“You heard the lady, let her go,” said Quinn calmly.
“Fuck off! Mind your own damn business. The bitch is mine!”
River gripped the man’s wrist, giving it a twist as he let go of the woman’s ponytail. He screamed in pain as she scrambled behind Finnegan.
“You know this man?” asked Quinn.
“I know him but I’m not his!” she said emphatically. “We had two dates. Dates! Not hook-ups. I told you I wasn’t interested.”
“Bullshit. Every look you gave me said you were interested. You’re not gonna make me look like a fool,” he said starting to walk toward her again.
“You touch that woman and I will kill you and bury your body so deep no one will ever find you,” said Quinn.
The man wisely straightened, staring at the three identical brothers. It wasn’t their similarity that got his attention but rather the tridents on their uniforms sitting atop rows of colorful ribbons.
“Okay,” he nodded. “That’s fine. But they won’t be here forever. I will come back for you and you won’t have them to protect you.”
The man turned and walked toward the massive hotel at the end of the beach. Quinn looked down at the woman, reaching a hand toward her. She stared at the three men, then took his hand, wiping the sand off her ass.
“Thank you,” she said. She rubbed her head where the elastic held her hair. Frowning, she hissed.
“Are you alright?” asked Quinn.
“I think so. No. Maybe,” she said shaking her head. “Where am I?”
“Where are you?” asked River staring at his brothers. “Did he hit you in the head?”
“I don’t remember. Maybe.”
“You’re on Coronado Island. San Diego,” said Finnegan.
“San Diego,” she whispered. “Shit.”
“I take it you don’t live here,” said Quinn.
“No. I live in Pensacola, Florida.”
“That’s a long way from here,” frowned Quinn. “I think we need to get you checked out.”
“Yeah,” she said rubbing her head again. “I think…”
