Jack's throat tightened. “I learned from the best.”
“You did good. Real good.” Colt squeezed his shoulder.
After his dad left, Jack walked with a group to the pub. The evening air was cool, and the short walk through downtown Baytown felt surreal. It had been years since he'd been able to just walk these streets without a ticking clock reminding him he'd have to leave soon.
The pub was already crowded with the usual Friday night mix of locals and tourists. The group claimed a large table near the back, and Jack found himself wedged between Trevor and Jose Garcia, a friend from their high school class.
“Jack,” Jose said, pulling him into a hug before they sat down. “Man, it's been forever.”
“Jose! How are you?”
“Good. Got out of the Marines about two years ago. Working construction for my dad now, helping run the crew.” Jose's grin was easy and familiar. “Heard you're home for good?”
“Yeah, it’s good to be back.”
“I figured you might make the Navy your career.” Jose flagged down the server and ordered a pitcher for the table.
“Thought about it, but after four years in the Academy, then five years active duty based out of California… I was ready to come back.” Jack said, not ready to share all the details yet. “Still figuring some things out.”
Jeremy slid into the seat across from Jack. “So,” Jeremy said, leaning back in his chair, “you going to tell us what you’re up to, or are we supposed to guess?”
“Can't a guy just have a chance to chill out first?” Jack deflected.
“Nah. You were always a planner. Just like me.” Trevor grabbed a handful of pretzels from the bowl on the table. “You’ve got the 'I'm making big life decisions' look.”
“What look is that?”
“The same one I had when I was deciding whether to reenlist or come home.” Trevor met his eyes.
Jack looked around the table at these friends, all people who understood what it meant to serve and to struggle with what came after. They deserved honesty.
“I'm out,” Jack said. “Finished my active duty commitment. Staying in the Reserves, but I'm home for good.”
A cheer went up from the table, loud enough that other patrons glanced over. Trevor clapped him on the back, and Jose raised his glass.
Jack grinned in return. “I got hired by the North Heron Sheriff’s Department. I’ve taken the detective exam and am partnered with a senior detective. I started yesterday. And on the fun side, I’ve been given a position as the Baytown High School junior varsity assistant baseball coach.”
“Damn, Jack, you do have it all planned out.” Trevor chuckled.
The server arrived with burgers and fries, and the conversation shifted to other topics. Jose talked about his construction projects and how different it was to take orders from his dad instead of Marine Corps officers. But it was obvious that Jose loved the satisfaction of building something tangible with his hands.
Jeremy took a long pull from his beer, then set it down with a heavy sigh. He glanced over his shoulder toward the bar, and Jack followed his gaze. Aiden MacFarlane stood behind the counter, arms crossed, his expression thunderous as he stared directly at Jeremy. When Aiden caught Jack looking, he turned abruptly back to his brother, Brogan, muttering something that made Brogan's jaw tighten.
“What was that about?” Jack asked, though he had a sinking feeling he already knew.
“Emily.” Jeremy's voice was flat, resigned.
“Aiden's daughter?” Jack leaned back in his chair. “The girl you were in love with in high school?”
“Yeah.” Jeremy ran a hand through his hair, looking miserable. “That's the one.”
Jack glanced past Jeremy to the bar again, where Aiden and Brogan now stood side by side, both watching their table with identical expressions of protective fury.
“Well,” Jack said, unable to keep the amusement entirely out of his voice, “the glares you're getting tell me you must have fucked up, brother.”
“Tell me about it.” Jeremy slumped in his chair. “Royally fucked up.”
Jose leaned forward, interest piqued. “What happened? I thought you two were solid.”
