by Cari Quinn
Whether or not she’d get to see it anytime soon was anyone’s guess. She’d mentioned moving, and I didn’t know where. I’d chosen not to press her for answers, not then. God knows Slater couldn’t be counted on to tell me much of anything.
Hell, he might split, too. My brother traveled light by nature. I didn’t care. I’d follow them to the ends of the earth if I had to.
Seeing them again had proven one thing to me without doubt. There was no point in fighting if you didn’t have someone waiting for you on the other side. I had my comrades, my brothers, but, goddammit, I wanted my own back, too. And I wanted my woman.
I wanted to get it right this time.
After I checked out the map I’d brought up on my cell, I jogged a couple blocks to the address I’d looked up. On the way, I stopped at a convenience store for two important items—a pack of smokes and condoms. I hoped like hell I’d get to use the latter and that I’d be able to resist giving in to the former, but, at the moment, it was touch and go. Besides, I wasn’t in the military anymore. My body was free to pollute as I wished.
Once I was standing outside The Cage, I started to have second thoughts. What good would checking out the gym do to help repair my relationship with my brother?
Better yet, how could Fox Knox, Slater’s best friend, help me figure out what I should’ve known anyway? I shouldn’t need outside assistance to get things straight with Slater. But I did. And I wouldn’t be a fucking coward about admitting it any longer. It mattered too much.
I walked inside the surprisingly upscale gray and gold foyer. Giant neon script letters on the wall—big enough that even I could read them—announced the name of the place. Huh. Neon. Not what I usually found in hardcore gyms, but it was New York.
The familiar tang of sweat scented the air, and the comforting sounds of equipment clanging eased my suspicions that I’d somehow wandered into the wrong place. A glitzy gym was still a gym, even if the guys walking past carried gold towels that I was almost certain were monogrammed.
Halfway to the circular counter, I came to a halt, sure my shitty eyes were playing a whole new set of evil tricks. A small blonde stood behind it, twin ponytails streaming over her shoulders. She was on the phone and had her head bent while she jotted something down, but it didn’t make a difference. I recognized my baby sister immediately.
“Jenna,” I whispered.
She glanced up, her professional smile firmly in place. Our eyes locked, and she dropped the phone. Actually dropped it with a screech and ran around the desk. “Oh, God, Lime.” She hurtled at me so fast I couldn’t do anything but catch her. She still smelled like watermelon bubblegum and lemon shampoo, a combination I’d never forget.
“Hey, pretty girl. Long time no see,” I said finally, stroking my hand over her silky hair.
“You’re here,” she said, pulling back to stare up at me with hope shining from her hazel eyes. Hope for me. “Are you staying? Please say yes.”
“That depends on a couple of things.”
“Like what?”
“Like if I’m welcome here or not.”
Her chin quivered, and, for a moment, I looked past the heavy green eye shadow and dark red lipstick she wore to the little girl beneath. She wasn’t a child anymore, and, from my research, she even had her own place with a couple girlfriends. But, for that instant, she was the baby sister I’d left, the one who saw me as a hero and cried so easily for me when I went away.
God, I didn’t want her to cry over me, absolutely not, but I was so fucking happy that someone still would.
“You mean Slater,” she said, reaching down to link her fingers with mine. Her warmth provided so much needed comfort that I couldn’t stop myself from squeezing a little too tight.
“And Abby,” I added, wondering if she knew about my relationship with the woman Slater would be living with for a short time longer.
Jenna bit her lip. “Slater’s Abby?”
It took sheer force of will for me not to dig through my duffel and pull out my smokes. Because, Jesus, if two words had ever pushed me closer to falling off the wagon, I didn’t remember them.
“Abby,” I repeated, hoping like hell she wouldn’t question me beyond that.
My sister had always been intuitive and intrinsically kind. She loved animals and swimming, and she’d spent every moment she could outdoors. But, apparently, what she was best at was assessing a situation in five seconds flat and knowing when to offer a supportive smile.
“She’s a great girl. Do you know she helped me find my place?”
I hadn’t known, but it didn’t surprise me. Since Abby had helped me find my place, too—and I felt it acutely every minute she wasn’t in it.
Jenna was already continuing. “I found an ad on Craigslist, and she did the legwork to make sure it was legit and even went with me to meet Holly and Candace.”
“That’s great,” I said, trying to stop the word Craigslist from flashing like a stop light in my head. Jesus fuck. “You like living with them?”
“I do. They’re awesome. And my boyfriend—” She stopped and bit her lip again. “Uh, so what’s going on with you? Are you in town for a while?”
Rather than immediately begin interrogating her about her so-called boyfriend, I led her over to a padded bench along the side wall next to a water fountain. She motioned to some other guy who slid behind the desk, his Ken-doll smile already in place as another dude, clearly a member of the gym, swaggered up to the counter.
The minute we sat down, Jenna hugged me again, this time for even longer. “God, I missed you. How long has it been?”
“Too fucking long,” I replied, wincing at the curse. Then I shrugged it off and hugged her back, savoring the feel of her solid body in my arms.
In my line of work, just getting to see your family again was a damn gift. In my case, them wanting to see me seemed like a bigger present than I deserved.
“Don’t leave like that again. Promise me.”
“I promise, nugget.” I brushed her hair out of her face as she eased back. “I’m not going anywhere for a good long while if I can help it.”
Her eyes narrowed. They were so like our mother’s, large and expressive, always showing exactly what she was feeling. Now she was cautiously optimistic…and confused.
“Why? I mean, it’s awesome, and I’m so glad you’re here.” She squeezed me in another quick hug. “But, I mean, are you based here? Is there even a base? What’s going on?”
I laughed. Somehow I’d forgotten what a chatterbox my little sis could be. A great thing to be reminded of when you didn’t want to talk about yourself. Soon enough I’d steer the conversation back to her. Until then, I had to answer her questions as honestly as possible.
“I’m medically retired.” As soon as I said the words, I had to clear my throat. I hadn’t had to say them much out loud yet, and the grit in my throat that accompanied them was harder to swallow than I expected. Years of my life and my foreseeable future were gone, just like that. “I will probably go back and help train SEALs at some point, but that’s up to me. Right now, I want to be here with you and your brother and—” I broke off, unable to finish.
“And Abby,” she said gently, reaching for my hand again.
Saying nothing, I nodded.
“She’s moving to Yonkers on Monday. Did you know that?”
I shook my head. Evidently I’d been reduced to a bobblehead doll.
“She’s got a cute little apartment. A one-bedroom,” she added meaningfully, as if I’d take that as an opportunity to move in. “Slater’s not going.”
“Yeah, that much I figured out.”
She stared down at my hand, rubbing her finger over my chunky gold signet ring embossed with the trident that stood for the SEALs. My entire team had them, and I’d never taken mine off. “You got hurt. What happened?”
“Roadside IED,” I said as matter-of-factly as possible. “I was lucky. I didn’t get much more than shrapnel in me.” And a bu
llet in my arm, delivered by passing insurgents who preyed upon us as we were helping those who weren’t so fortunate.
“Shrapnel where?” Her probing gaze roamed my face, and then she made a choked noise that made me wonder if she knew. If she could tell.
“Your eyes,” she whispered.
I blinked, desperate to see her more clearly. I’d become so used to the fuzziness that most of the time my mind just filled in the blanks. I’d had my vision for so long that even a few details were enough to help me come up with a whole picture. But sometimes I still longed for a more accurate view.
“It’s okay,” she said, tipping her forehead against mine. “I can see enough for both of us.”
The grittiness in my throat turned into an actual lump, making it difficult for me to get the words out.
“I can still see. I can.”
“I know. Shh.” She kissed my cheek and rubbed my ring and eased me through a moment that hurt so fucking bad that even breathing through it made my lungs ache. “It’ll be all right. Your family’s with you now.”
“Are you?”
I stared at her, willing the details to knit together enough for me to pick up any nuances of pity or disgust or disappointment on her face. I couldn’t take it if she was angry at me, too, though I was beginning to think she had every right. No matter my reasons, I had left them at a vulnerable time, and I’d risked them not seeing me again outside of a body bag. My choice to make, but it affected them, too. So much.
I’d tried to do the best thing for them, for my brothers and my country, and someone had to suffer. Now it was me, sitting there grasping for the remaining shreds of my former life and hoping like hell I could piece them together into something real.
“Of course we are.” She looked at me as if I was spouting crazy talk. “We love you.”
“But Slater—”
She waved off my concerns, shaking her head. “Slater hasn’t gotten laid in a really long time, and he’s cranky.”
My laughter burned my throat on its way out. It had been such a damn long time since I’d laughed until my gut hurt.
“How do you know that?” I made it seem like I was just asking out of curiosity, but the truth was, I needed to know how far the thing between him and Abby had gone. Needed it more than my next breath.
“I can just tell. He’s been super grouchy lately. Even perfect swells haven’t improved his mood. Last weekend, he went out to Montauk, and he was still ragey afterward.”
“You think that has to do with his sex life?”
The girl’s mind was a scary, wonderful place.
“Sure. Now that I know there’s something up with you and Abby, it makes total sense. He’s not getting his knob polished, and he’s pissed.”
“Oh, Jesus, Jen.” I grabbed my side and gave into another round of laughter, so relieved to hear both her assessment and the sound of her giggling that my eyes went damp. “I missed you so much.”
Her grin lit up my world. For a moment, it didn’t even matter that I couldn’t fully see the twinkle in her eyes.
“Ditto, Lime. So you’re staying at Slater’s, right?”
I thought of Slater’s cramped apartment, particularly Abby’s tiny bedroom. “I’m not sure there’s room.”
“Sure there is. I stayed there, too, before I moved in with the girls.”
As much as I didn’t want my sister running interference for me, I couldn’t deny that it was nice to have someone concerned about my welfare. “He didn’t exactly invite me.”
“So what? Hello, you’re family. Standing invitation. If he doesn’t like it, he can just deal.” She whipped out her cell and held it to her ear. I had a strong suspicion who she was calling, and, as much as I wanted to put a halt to it, I had already spotted a new target to focus on.
Fox Knox was crossing the foyer, heading straight for us. In one hand, he carried a stack of books. In the other, he gripped one of those gold club towels.
I rose and extended a hand. “Fox?”
He stopped and cocked his head. “I answer to Tray. Who are you?”
Instant attitude. I supposed that was part and parcel of being a fighter—especially an illegal one—but I had plenty of my own. “I’m Liam. Walsh,” I added, glancing back at Jen’s frantic whispering.
“Walsh?” Fox’s eyebrow went up, and he gazed at my outstretched palm. “You’re related to Slater?”
“I share a name with him, we look alike, and his sister’s beside me. Take a wild guess, buddy.”
“Yep, just as ornery as he is, too.” Instead of clasping my hand, he pulled me into one of those one-armed man hugs. “Nice to meet you, dude.”
In spite of my irritation, I hugged him back. Maybe he wasn’t a total prick, after all. “Same. Slater’s, ah, mentioned me?”
“Sure. You’re the SEAL he’s so fucking proud of and so worried about he barely mentions you.”
I pulled back, eyeing him closely. Well, as closely as I could manage. “Is that so?”
“Oh, yeah. He pretends he’s all Zen and only cares about tree hugging and catching the next good wave, but his act slips sometimes. Some of that had to do with me, ’til I fucked my eye up and got out of the game. The rest, I figure, probably had to do with you and your parents. Sorry about them, by the way, man.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Too much information all at once. But his eye injury and those shiny NYU brochures at the top of the stack of books he carried snagged most of my attention.
“What happened to your eye?”
“Fractured socket. Hurt like a bitch. Still gives me trouble. And Christ, the headaches.”
I’d mostly gotten lucky when it came to headaches, but they kicked in from time to time. “Blurred vision?” I asked, hoping he didn’t hear the eagerness in my question.
Having someone to talk to who understood—even in a minor way—would help. Not that I wanted to hold hands and sing “Kumbaya” or anything crazy. I was just looking for someone who got it. Maybe someone who’d even figured out how not to feel like less of a man, now that he was less.
“Oh, yeah, at first, absolutely. Not so much now. It lasted a lot longer than I thought it would. Fucking wigs you out, man.”
Not the word I would’ve used, but I nodded in agreement with the sentiment.
“So you home on leave or what? Slater must be glad to have you back in one piece.” He grimaced. “Hang on a sec. Let me grab a crowbar to get my foot out of my mouth.”
I laughed, surprised to find myself liking this guy. I’d wanted to talk to him about Slater, to see if he was as bad of an influence on my brother as I assumed. Before I’d even spoken to him, I was halfway to thinking he was a cocky, irreverent asshole who liked flaunting the law—and, even worse than that, I’d been freaking jealous of him for being my brother’s best friend when Slater could barely stand to even look at me. Now I was semi-fraternizing with the guy. And possibly borrowing one of those glossy NYU brochures.
“No worries. I’ve heard much worse than that. I’m back to civilian life. Might teach down the road, but, right now, I’m at loose ends.”
“Yeah?” He looked me up and down, assessing me as brutally as any of my commanding officers. “You do any fighting?”
Okay, that question I had not expected. “No. Fighting’s illegal in New York.”
“Ah, so you’re too out of shape to fight. Gotcha.” He flashed me that cocky grin I’d seen on his tapes. Pretty boy, with a big fucking chip on his shoulder.
“Not even close.”
“So, why don’t we go a couple rounds? I’m not fighting anymore, in case you weren’t paying attention when I said that a few minutes ago. I got out of it when I had to make a decision about what I wanted out of life.” His grin grew wolfish. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help others improve—or kick the asses of gone-soft military types.”
“Boy, you better watch that mouth.”
“Already got a shoe in it. Not much else you can do to me.”
I was shocked to find myself laughing again. Easily. As if I didn’t have a whole boatload of trouble waiting for me back at Slater’s apartment. As if I actually had a handle on even one-tenth of the shit that had taken over my shit storm of a life.
“You know what?” I grabbed the duffel I’d dropped on the floor next to the bench. “I think I’m going to take you up on that. Get ready to get your ass kicked.”
“Excellent.” Fox fist bumped me just as Jenna got off the phone. “I’ve definitely been ass-kicked by worse.”
“You’re set to stay with Slater,” she said, popping to her feet. “And I’m probably coming over for dinner one day next week, so don’t plan on finding new digs anytime soon.”
“Uh, okay.” I didn’t want to get into family business in front of Fox, but, then again, he probably had a way better handle on all of it than I did. At least a more current handle, anyway. “You sure he’s okay with it? He was pretty amped earlier.”
“Knob. Polished,” she reminded me, launching herself at Fox in a way I would’ve resented if I hadn’t decided I already liked the dude. “Foxy, you gonna fight my big brother? He’ll give you pain.”
“Ha, squirt. Everyone gives me pain, especially you when you keep refusing to marry me.”
It took me a second to clue into their matching grins.
“He’s kidding. He has a girlfriend,” Jen explained. “A really scary one. She’d eat his nuts for breakfast if he was even a tiny bit serious.”
“Truth,” Fox agreed. “Only a fool with a death wish would cross Mia. She’s got crazy powerful legs.”
“Mia,” I said slowly, remembering the other name I’d seen on the tape. “Your girl’s a fighter, too?”
“Damn straight. Well, she was. She’s retired now. Or so she keeps telling me.” He slung an arm around my sister’s shoulders and juggled his books. “So we gonna keep pussyfooting around out here all day or get in a sparring session?”
