Page 66 of Hard to Lose

“You know me too well.”

“Mind telling me what you plan on doing when you find him?” he asks.

“That’s up for debate.” I chuckle. “It’s a cross between letting him know his dream wasn’t baseless. If he still plays, maybe trying to get him a tryout with an MLB team so he can say for posterity’s sake that he had a shot. Or it could go a whole different way and we could sponsor a veteran game to thank our heroes. Any and all of them could possibly give KSM some good publicity.”

“Ha. That Finn thing is stuck in your craw, isn’t it?” He chuckles.

“No. Yes. Whatever.” I laugh at my own expense.

“Not sure your guy’s going to bite on that if I’m being honest though.”

“Why do you say that?”

“War changes a man. On paper he appears completely different now than he was then.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t see anywhere that he’s played since he returned. He had a small-time record before enlisting and since he was discharged, is squeaky clean. I mean, it’s like the guy is a completely different person. Hell, he doesn’t even go by his name anymore, just a nickname given to him by his platoon. I mean the guy’s a war hero and does a shit ton for the veteran community as a whole on top of owning his own bar.”

“Wait. What did you say?” My chest suddenly constricts, and I sit up a little straighter.

“The bar part? He owns one. I’m looking up what it’s called. Give me one sec because I don’t want to get it wrong—”

“FU-Bar,” I whisper more to myself than to him.

“Yes. That’s it. Why didn’t you tell me you found him?”

“I didn’t. I don’t think. His nickname. What’s his nickname, Kell?” At the same time, Kelly’s email finishes downloading. I’m met with a picture of Gunner looking back at me. He’s a little younger, dressed in desert camo, with a grin on his face and dog tags around his neck.

Jesus Christ.

I stare, blinking over and over as if doing that is going to make any sense of my current reality. As if Gunner isn’t Ryan and Ryan isn’t Gunner. As if everything that has happened during the past week just shifted and tilted, when it’s the last thing I wanted it to do.

“Chase? You okay?”

“Yeah. Yes. Sorry. I was just reading your email.” I refocus on it now, but don’t really see anything. The words are a blur.

“He seems like a helluva guy. Make sure to tell him thank you for his service for me when you talk to him.”

“I will.” I stare at the picture again. “Thanks, Kelly.”

The call ends. My phone drops to the bed beside me. And all I can do is stare at that image of a young Gunner and die a little.

How is this possible?

How have I been so busy enjoying the man I found that the possibility didn’t cross my mind?

I’m mad. Furious. Because this screws everything up. Everything.

We both think the other person is someone else. Correction, I thought he was someone else, but now know he’s the man I’ve been looking for. He still thinks I’m someone else—or that I do something else. What’s he going to think when he not only finds out I’m a sports agent, but one who came here to let him know he was, in fact, recruitable before? The one who was coming here with thoughts of exploiting his veteran status for the benefit of my company?

Deception.

Isn’t that what he said is a deal-breaker for him?

Isn’t that what I’ve done? Deceived him?

My head spins as I walk to the other side of the room and pull the tattered envelope from my bag. I run my fingers over the handwriting and wonder who the twenty-year-old was before he became the man I know today.