“Which are you?” he asked as he pulled out the sucker and swished a glug of water through his teeth and over his tongue. He spat it on the flagstone next to his chair and then poured half of what was left in the bottle over his face.
Good thing I don’t have a mirror, he thought, shoving the sucker back into his mouth. I don’t think I’d like to see the thing starin’ back at me.
The façade on the unflappable, ever-composed helicopter pilot had cracked wide open to reveal who he was at his core. A man capable of savagery. Ruthlessness. Barbarism.
“I’ve been homicidal since I was eighteen,” Graham admitted with a laconic shrug. “Why d’ya think I became a SEAL?”
“The dress whites.” Hew forced a little levity into the conversation, as much for his own sake as for Graham’s. “Figured ya liked the look of ice cream man chic.”
“That’s just a bonus.” Graham grinned and then joined Hew in staring out at the brick wall.
“I’ve seen ya worried before,” Graham observed after a little while. “Seen ya troubled and tormented. But I’ve never seen you like this.” He slid a glance Hew’s way. “Beat the flesh off their skulls?”
Hew closed his eyes. He had said that, hadn’t he? And more, he’d meant it.
“Not that you’ve ever shied away from doin’ what needs doin’ to keep yourself and those of us who go into battle with ya safe from all comers,” Graham clarified. “But violence is usually your last instinct, not your first.”
Hew nodded. “I’ve tried to keep that side of myself in check.” He used his tongue to shove the sucker to his opposite cheek. “But I have it in me, just like any other man. Right now, it’s slipped its leash and is roarin’ so loud I can barely hear my own thoughts. Those fuckers who took Sabrina? I want their heads on a platter, Graham. And I know that has nothin’ to do with justice and everything to do with vengeance, but I don’t give a rat’s ass.”
Graham had nothing to add to that, so they once more lapsed into silence.
When the slightest breeze wafted by, it cooled Hew’s head enough for him to add, “I’m grateful to Kerberos. But I also want to reach down their throats and pull out their lungs because they didn’t give us more.”
“They did drop a whole lot of nothin’ in our laps, didn’t they?” Graham’s expression was less than pleased.
“A big ol’ steamin’ pile of it,” Hew declared. Then, he added, “She’s out there because of us.” The words stuck in his throat like they came with barbs. “Because someone wants to…what? Kill us? Expose us?”
Graham didn’t sugarcoat his answer. “Maybe both.”
“Well, fuck ’em for draggin’ her into it.” Hew had to swallow the vitriol that burned the back of his throat like battery acid. “She’s innocent.”
“That she is.” Graham agreed.
And since there was nothing left to say on the subject, Hew drank the last of his water, crunched the last of the sucker, and shoved the stick into the empty bottle before twisting the cap shut.
“You love her, don’t ya?”
The question, spoken so casually, punched Hew in the gut. He recovered quickly. Or, at least, he thought he did. But his voice still sounded a little hoarse when he answered. “Ayuh. Like I love all you dumb pissahs. You’re family. And that’s no small thing for a guy like me.”
Graham lifted an eyebrow. “Sure that’s all there is to it?”
No. Hew wasn’t sure. But…
“Doesn’t matter.” He waved a dismissive hand. “She’s with someone else.”
And that pang in his chest when he thought of her with Martin? He ignored it.
“I want her to be happy,” he added simply. Because it was the truth. “And if the Munchkin makes her happy, then he’s my favorite person in the world.”
He expected Graham to call bullshit on that last statement. So he was a little relieved when the former SEAL said only, “We’ll get her back. And then we’ll find out who’s out to get us.”
Hew nodded, although his optimism was hovering somewhere between rock bottom and the pits of hell. “Because the good guys always win in the end.”
Graham’s bearded chin jerked back. “Do they?”
“That’s how it works in all the books.”
Graham rolled his eyes. “Too much reading has rotted your brain.”
