One of the additions we made to the Blade and Arrow HQ was a two-lane bowling alley down in the basement. Is it necessary for our business? Of course not. We provide protective services, not bowling instruction. But Eden loves bowling, so Rafe insisted on building it for her.
No one complained. Not even when it took four full weekends to get it all done. Because me and Rafe aren’t the only ones who love Eden. Ace, Webb, and Tyler have taken her on as their adopted little sister. So when Rafe brought up the idea, we were all on board.
“I think so,” Webb replies. He glances at Rafe with a questioning expression. “When are we leaving for Seattle again?”
Rafe lifts his chin at Webb. “Sunday night. We’ve got two red-eye tickets booked, so we’ll arrive first thing Monday morning.”
Eden turns to Rafe. Her brows pull into a concerned V. “I forgot about your trip. If it’s not a good weekend?—”
“It’s a perfect weekend.” With a smile, he adds, “We’ve got plenty of time to get ready on Sunday. I think a bowling party on Saturday night sounds like a great idea.”
Rafe and Webb are scheduled for a security consult for a tech company in Seattle next week, where they’ll spend three days searching for weak spots in the security infrastructure and training the existing team on new tactics and skills. Usually we focus on jobs that are more investigative, like our last pro-bono case, which was helping a woman whose ex-husband was blackmailing her with AI-generated revenge porn.
Which is fucked up, by the way. What kind of man would do something like that? And to someone he used to be married to, no less?
Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. Not after the shit I’ve seen. But still. It pisses me off.
Anyway, the CEO of the tech company knows Cole Mitchell, another fellow Green Beret and founder of Blade and Arrow Security. So when the job came up, there was no question of us taking it.
“What do you think, Tyler?” Eden asks, turning her gaze to the quietest member of the team. “Do you want to bowl this weekend? We’ll have pizza…”
Tyler gives Eden a warm smile. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Eden looks across the table at me. “Indy? You’ll come, right?” More softly, she adds, “I ordered a special ball that’s supposed to work with your prosthetic. If you want to bowl right-handed.”
My stomach knots. “I’m not sure...”
I know she’s trying to help. Just as she always has—from those early days in the hospital, when she badgered the doctors into giving her answers and spent weeks camped out by my bedside to the benefits she ran to raise enough money for my high-tech prosthetic.
She thinks I didn’t know about the fundraisers. But I did. I just never said anything because I was in such denial about my amputation; I couldn’t bear to talk about it. I just moped around my apartment in Silver Springs, dragging myself to my therapy sessions at the VA hospital because I knew Eden would find out if I didn’t. And that would hurt Eden. It would make her worry even more about her clinically depressed brother, and I didn’t want that for her.
So when she pleaded with me to accept the upgraded prosthetic, I agreed. And I forced myself to learn how to use it.
Three years on, I’m thankful she pushed me. Because I can do almost anything with my prosthetic that I could with my old hand. I can lift weights. I can spar. I can even shoot with my modified Sig, if I’m willing to sacrifice a little accuracy.
I’m not, for the record. Once I dragged my head out of the proverbial sand and began to accept that I wasn’t the man I used to be, I taught myself how to shoot with my off-hand, and now I can hit a target at five-hundred yards just as well with my left as I used to with my right.
But bowling…
Eden’s eyes go sad as she watches me, waiting for my answer. “Nevermind,” she adds quietly. “It was a stupid idea.”
Beside her, Rafe rubs her shoulder.
Shit.
Eden’s so excited about this whole bowling thing. I don’t want to ruin it for her just because of my insecurity.
“That sounds awesome, Eeen,” I tell her. “I can’t wait to go bowling.” Then I smirk at her. “And I can’t wait to kick your ass at it.”
Her crinkled brow relaxes as she breaks into a smile. “I’ve been practicing. So we’ll see.”
Rafe flashes me a quick look, and with it, a silent question.
Are you sure?
Because as much as Rafe loves Eden, I know he has my back, too. And if I really don’t feel comfortable using whatever adaptive bowling ball Eden’s come up with, he’ll cover for me. He’ll insist on everyone bowling with their off-hand—as an extra challenge, or some such excuse—or he’ll gently explain to Eden later why having me bowl isn’t a good idea.
But I’m not going to take the out.
