The crunch of leaves sounded beneath his boots as he ran. The sun beat down on his head and he was grateful for any shade he got. At least he didn’t have a fifty-pound pack on his back and wasn’t a couple of time-zones from home in a country where everyone thought he was the enemy.
Saxon had a handgun beneath his vest. He could see its outline and was pretty sure that one was loaded with real ammo. Cautious. No. Prepared. For what? This was their home base, surely they didn’t expect to be attacked here. Shit, maybe he was bringing trouble to their door? That unsettled him and planted a small seed of fear in his head.
He liked the colors and sounds of the island, it felt peaceful here. Well, as peaceful as it could be with a bunch of Spec Ops running around using it as a training ground. On they ran, dodging from tree to tree, circling a clearing. Passing orders and taking out targets as they ran. He moved up to Saxon’s left-hand side. “Behind you.”
“Good, you were so quiet I thought we’d lost you.”
“My ass.”
Noble led them through an obstacle course next. Log hurdles. Under obstructions. Hand over hand across a monkey bar bridge and up a rope that hung from a frame fifty-feet high, then down a pulley cable.
It was slightly regrettable that he didn’t have a chance to be impressed by Saxon’s ass as he went up the rope. But he was too busy keeping his breath from sawing in and out as he kept up with the guys. Finished, they jogged back to the main building. Sweat ran down his face and dripped under his vest.
“You survived.” Castiel tossed a bottle of water from a cooler box, which hadn’t been outside the door when they left.
“The Grinder didn’t kill me, and I didn’t ring the bell,” Rick twisted off the top of the bottle. “It was unlikely your mini course was going to beat me.”
“Sure, sure.” Shaun flopped down onto the grass. “It nearly fucking kills me, never mind a scrawny ass seal. I didn’t know frogs came in mini version.”
Ah, there it was… the shit slinging. Good. It meant they were starting to see him as more than Saxon’s friend and more like someone they could work with. If they had any chance of figuring this shit out, they had to work together. “I can take you any day of the week, twice on Sundays if I felt like it.”
“What the fuck’d you go an’ say that for?” Castiel grumbled. He pointed to where Noble stood drinking his water bottle, grinning like he just had the best freaking idea ever.
“Let’s prove that shall we?” Noble pointed to the gym. “Sparring.”
Fuck, he was an idiot. He knew better than to challenge a bunch of dudes like this. In a distant part of his mind, he could hear the faint sounds of a shower and a bed calling his name. But he knew it was unlikely he would see either anytime soon. Yup, certified idiot, for sure!
Chapter Nine
Saxon closedthe door of his house behind Rick and him.Fuck me, I’m too old for this shit. Every muscle in his body ached, even ones he hadn’t been entirely sure existed. Noble had run them through the course, then on sparring matches. He moved his jaw from side to side, feeling it click. That fucker Castiel had given him a loose tooth with that haymaker punch. Jesus, he knew he should duck right instead of left, but every damn time he picked wrong.
“I hurt everywhere.” Rick flopped onto the couch. “Your team, they don’t pull punches.”
“Training is where we can fuck up without putting anyone in danger,” Saxon propped his ass against the wall and lifted one foot to open his laces. “They wanted to see what you are made of.”
“Pain and bruises.” Rick made himself at home on the couch, lying back with an arm covering his face. “That’s what I’m made of.”
“How’s your eye?”
“Ya mean the one that got thumped with the butt of a gun the other day?” Rick asked. “The same one Drax ground into the mat, that one?”
“Yeah.”
He wasn’t one to normally bitch about ouchies, but maybe if he played this one up a bit, Saxon might baby him. “It fucking hurts.” He lowered his arm. “You got ice?”
“I should have in the kitchen.” Saxon’s fingers fumbled with the lace on his second boot. “You want me to get you some?”
“Yeah.” Should he tell him about the shoulder burn too? Nah, that’d be overkill. He was over that one. Now that it had scabbed over, it did little more than pull when he stretched it.
Saxon finished with his boots and kicked them to one side. Eh, it was only him and Rick here. If they fell over his boots, it was their own fault. He’d pick them up later and put them next to the bed. Bed? Shit, he only had one. Striding into the kitchen, he opened the freezer and rooted through the drawers. He’d put a bag of ice in here the other day. Wait, nope, he’d brought it out for the beer bucket the night before Rick had called him to say he was in Italy. He hadn’t had time to replace it. Shuffling the bags in the freezer he looked for something suitable. Carrots, nope, asparagus... also nope. His hand closed around the last bag, and he turned it over, “Ah, there’s no ice, Rick, will peas do?”
“Are they frozen?”
“Yup.”
Then I don’t care if it’s peas,” Rick lifted up onto his elbows to see over the back of the couch. “But if they’re defrosted, they fucking stink.”
“Don’t I know it.” Saxon grabbed the bag of vegetables and shut the freezer. “Once when we were in Turkey, the aircon went out in the trucks and we travelled with frozen fucking peas for days. As soon as they defrosted, they fucking smelled like shit.”
