SEAL's Promise - Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3, Book 01

by Sharon Hamilton

  “How do we do that?” Shannon asked.

  “Two schools of thought there. What we’re not going to do is go on a search and destroy mission. We don’t do that here. Ever. We hide in plain sight, or you move to a location that they don’t know about. We don’t know how long that would work. Will you have to be looking over your shoulder for months, years to come? No guarantees even if you do move, you will be safe.”

  Shannon could see the dilemma. She knew her answer, if T.J. would allow it.

  “I can’t take that chance,” T.J. said. Shannon closed her eyes. She’d known he’d say that. “I’m the one who is exposing this family to more danger. You’re right, Kyle.”

  Shannon knew she had to be careful with this next part. “But they came after me in the hospital. They found me somehow.” The room remained quiet.

  “It has to be your decision. I don’t know how they got your information, Shannon. Maybe it was one of the hospital staff, someone who knew you were in labor, and knew what T.J. did for a living. Just hard to say. We don’t talk about what we do. We were never supposed to. But especially now, we don’t talk about it.”

  Everyone agreed with this.

  T.J. squeezed her hand. “Honey, I am causing further danger by staying here. I say we move, or—”

  Shannon stood up and addressed the seated circle. “I won’t be safe, T.J. if you leave. We stay together. If we move, we move together. Or we stay here, and we keep our eyes and ears open. But I’m not running away.”

  Kyle smiled. “That’s exactly what Christy would say. You gals are tough, I’ll grant you that.”

  “Look at what she did yesterday. They’ll be asking her further questions. Won’t that trigger curiosity with the neighbors here?” Mrs. Moore asked.

  “We can arrange for all interviews to be done at the jurisdictions. None here. I think that could be carried out,” Kyle added.

  “What about Frankie’s parents? What if they stayed there?” Shannon’s dad asked.

  “That would be putting them in danger. I couldn’t ask them to do that,” Shannon answered.

  “Come here, Shannon,” T.J. said and stretched out his arms.

  The group chuckled in response as Shannon sat on his lap, legs across his thighs. The protective shield of his arms warmed her and calmed her nerves.

  “I say we ask them, honey.”

  Shannon couldn’t believe he was actually proposing this.

  “I think they’d want to help, in fact, I know they’d love to help. And they’d love spending time with Courtney.”

  Kyle nodded. Shannon could see he thought it was a good idea too. “I don’t think they’d be on anyone’s radar,” he said.

  “If they know I live here, or know anything about you, Shannon, they’ll come here. But they may not know about Frankie’s parents,” T.J. followed up his statement with a kiss. He ducked his head to make direct eye contact, “Or, do you not want me to be there with you? You could stay there alone, if you want.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Shannon was beginning to warm to the idea.

  “Shannon and the baby could come stay with us in Palo Alto,” Mrs. Moore cut in cheerfully. She got an immediate reaction.

  Kyle, T.J. and Shannon all answered with a resounding, “No.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  ‡

  T.J. KNEW THE Bensons would be happy with the arrangement, and he really didn’t mind the fact that he’d be spending time with Joe Benson, one of the best dads ever. First day they stayed with the couple, Joe reached out to T.J.

  “I was real sorry to hear about your father,” he said, his warm eyes not following the smile on his lips. T.J. could see the death of his son still pained him, and probably always would.

  “Thanks. That helps, Joe. We both lost someone. I lost a brother, and you a son. Although I also lost my dad, I didn’t have what you guys had.”

  “Everyone does the best they can, son.”

  “I’ve heard that a lot lately. Too much, I’ll admit.” T.J. had thought he’d purged it all out of him, but some of the familiar loathing for his horrible childhood came roaring back.

  “Well,” Benson said as he removed his hand from the top of T.J.’s shoulder, “We just take it a day at a time. We celebrate when we can, and we cry when we must.”

  Nothing was ever discussed further. Shannon and T.J. moved several items in two trips from the old house, enlisting the help of a couple of the Team guys. The rush of every day life, with a newborn and with grandparents to dote on the child, started to make everything seem normal.

  But that was a problem for T.J. He did not feel normal, and it was getting worse. He was filled with pain, and needed more and more time alone. He retreated to the back bedroom often and lay down while Courtney slept beside the bed. The sounds of the baby’s breathing were healing, reminding him of new life and future miracles. But it was short-lived. He couldn’t put his finger on it. This was not something he was used to, a family routine. Loving relatives who were gentle and civil to one another. The more he was around it, the more he began to feel out of place.

  Today was an especially bad day. He’d tried to work it out down at Gunny’s, overstaying the meter and getting a huge parking ticket. Fredo and Mia were back from their honeymoon in St. Thomas, and all of a sudden everyone on the Teams wanted to know when he and Shannon were getting married. The police interview today was especially hard, because they brought up his juvenile record.

  Like I’m one of them? Do they really think that?

  The FBI agent in charge of the questioning separated him and Tyler and kept harping on the fact that their stories didn’t entirely match and kept grilling them for several hours. Even Tyler was upset by it, but took it a lot better than T.J. did.

  “You getting along with your wife?” the heavyset agent asked him. The guy had a grease spot on his tie T.J wanted to cut off with scissors.

  “Of course. Never better.” He knew the man knew they weren’t married and had said it on purpose to pick a fight.

  “You’re living with her in her dead husband’s parents home. Why are you not living in your own place? You’re not married, right, and have no plans to?”

  “We have plans to.”

  “Yet nobody here seems to be able to give me a date. Have you set a date, Mr. Talbot?”

  “What do these questions about my personal life have to do with this investigation?”

  “You have a problem talking about your personal life?”

  “Fuck no. Except it’s personal.”

  “You’ve always been known as kind of a loose cannon, Mr. Talbot.”

  This one really got to him. He fisted his hand under the table and purposely didn’t grind his teeth. “Who told you I was a loose cannon?”

  “Your LPO, Lansdown. Said you had been kind of a party animal, and now you were more domesticated. Surprised him, he said.”

  “Then I’m sure he meant it as a compliment.” T.J. didn’t think Kyle would have said this, or at least didn’t mean the implication.

  “You like being domesticated? That idea appeal to you, or are you itching to get out there and do something wild and crazy?”

  “We all do that. It’s what we do. But no, I don’t have any plans to go chase girls or go off on a stupid drunken bender. I don’t do that anymore. Kyle’s right.”

  The agent leaned back in his chair and took his time answering. “I’m wondering if all this bliss, without the ring and the date, has got you feeling like your balls are in a vice. Know what I mean?”

  T.J. hated the man now. He looked back at him like he wished he could’ve looked at his father years ago growing up, not the kind of look he had to give him as he was dying in the hospital bed. He didn’t care what the man thought of him now. He knew it was a danger sign, and he was powerless to stop it. He decided no response was the safest course of action. He was used to some professional jealousy, but this was over the top.

  But the agent couldn’t stop either. Som
ething was growing between them, and it stunk up the little interview room.

  “You ever get angry with your girlfriend? Strike her?”

  That was enough. T.J. reached across the table and grabbed Agent Asshole by the greasy tie and yanked his face close. “You fuckin’ prick. Get off my back. I don’t ever raise my voice or my hand to Shannon. I’m not the one you’re looking for. I was clear across the country paying my respects to my dying father, you asshole.”

  T.J. released the agent before the door burst open and two other agents poured in. They were sent outside immediately. Agent Asshole straightened his tie and smirked. “I don’t like you, Talbot. We can do this hard or soft. But something tells me you like it hard, so I’m not going to play that game with you. We got us some homegrown terrorists with special knowledge of your particular family’s whereabouts. We’ve got stories of bloody handprints in places where you were, conflicting witness descriptions, and an assault on your girlfriend while you are in Tennessee visiting a man you hated your whole life. It just doesn’t all add up.

  HE WORKED AT adjusting his mood before he got home. It did feel restricting, trying to play nice when he was angry at so many things. He was angry Shannon had gotten injured. Angry that she was naturally so understanding and compassionate towards his family, when he found it difficult to even think about them. Shannon was consumed by the baby, and although he expected this, he didn’t expect that it would pick a scab with him. He felt invisible.

  In the old days, before Shannon, a good old night of doing all kinds of things he’d regret the next morning was the call to order. But it was out of the question, and up until now, that had not appealed to him.

  He told the Bensons he was going to take a short nap before dinner, retreating to the back bedroom where Courtney was sleeping. Looking down on the baby, he asked himself again why circumstances had taken Frankie, who was loved, cherished and honored by this family and by Shannon, and left him behind in the man’s place. A reject. A raging war still brewing inside him. Full of flaws. He was unfamiliar with not being in control, worried about being good enough, deserving enough to be able to protect Shannon and his new daughter. Did Shannon deserve better? Was it right for him to reap the rewards someone else had sowed? Was this stealing?

  He moved to the high-backed reading chair and let the mood wash over him. We celebrate when we can, and we cry when we must. It was just like the arena. The waiting was the worst.

  Shannon entered the room with a basket of laundry.

  “Whoa, T.J.” She set the basket at her feet and knelt in front of him. “Where did you go?”

  “Sorry, Shannon. I’m not doing this very well, am I?”

  “Doing what?”

  “I feel Frankie—” He had to stop because he didn’t want to show her the depth of his darkness.

  Shannon slipped onto his lap. Her easy demeanor usually lessened the burden, but tonight it annoyed him. He didn’t want her pity.

  “I feel Frankie all over this house too. His pictures from his Little League teams are still on their dresser. Our wedding pictures are in the hallway, did you notice?”

  T.J. nodded. One of the first things he noticed was that. He remembered how he felt that day. He was focusing on trying to get laid, and still knew that Frankie was one of the luckiest men alive. And now she was here with him.

  “I think your mom was right. I never should have gone to Nashville. I should have been here. Maybe we could have caught all those guys, and we wouldn’t have to move or impose on the Bensons.”

  Shannon held his face between her palms. “Hey. T.J. This isn’t you. Where is all this coming from? No one is saying those things except you. We don’t know why things happen. You were honoring the request of a dying man, your father.”

  “Who was a prick and an asshole.”

  “But the important thing is that you did the honorable thing. I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” She stood, hands on her hips. “Is this the way you’re going to be? Because if so—”

  “Don’t say it, Shannon.

  “What? You mean I can’t tell you the truth? After what we’ve all been through in these past two months? We have to start couching our communications around each other? We’re not strong enough to face the facts?”

  “That’s unkind, and you know it.” He was seething. He felt his anger was becoming directed at her. He felt as hopeless as the child he was in the woodshed. He couldn’t solve the problem. He had to wait to do anything, and waiting was totally the pits. He hoped Shannon had the control to stop, because he wasn’t sure he did.

  “I’m not buying this, T.J. I’m not going to spend my whole life walking around on eggshells, pretending things are one way, when reality says it’s another.”

  “Whose reality? Yours? Mine? The Bensons? Those assholes? My dear old dad?”

  “You’re confused.”

  “I’m not confused. I fuckin’ know who I am and don’t need you fuckin’ telling me otherwise.” His voice boomed and bounced off the walls, waking Courtney.

  “Well, I hope you’re satisfied.” She turned her back to him and picked up the baby. On her way out of the room she delivered the kill shot. “You’re not the only one who’s lost someone, T.J. Man up.”

  He grabbed his car keys and stormed out of the Benson’s house without saying a word. He got in his pickup, wanting to make a public display, to squeal down the road, but at the last minute remembered who he was and what he was really fighting.

  And then he knew what he had to do.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  ‡

  THE BENSONS WERE understanding after hearing the argument, but clearly didn’t know what to do. Shannon and T.J. hadn’t really settled in. This loving couple had been delighted to spend so much time around the baby, and now T.J. was going to mess this all up.

  She’d been telling herself she had to be strong, and all this nightmare would be over soon, but now she had serious doubts. Perhaps the attack in the hospital was the easy part. Maybe she and T.J. were not going to work out, and she’d go back to considering raising a child alone, back full circle from where she’d started a couple of months ago right after Frankie’s death.

  Mrs. Benson brought her a hot cup of herbal tea, which was a lifesaver. As soon as she took a sip, she felt her milk let down and Courtney nearly choked on the stream that came towards her.

  “Thank you,” she said to the kind woman.

  “Used to work for me every time with Frankie. As a baby, he’d get so hungry and frustrated. The more he fussed, the tenser I became. Then of course the milk didn’t come. It’s always touch and go with your first, they say. You start worrying about everything.”

  “You’re right. The little argument with T.J. didn’t help either.”

  “It happens. You know, Joe even asked me after Frankie was about a month old if I still loved him. Can you imagine? Here I was trying to be the best mom, thinking I was doing all the right things, and I’d forgotten to let him know how special he was to me.”

  Shannon thought that was very good advice.

  “He’s probably trying to work out his grief at losing his father. It comes on in strange ways. We’ve certainly learned a bit about that. When you least expect it, something will—” She abruptly stopped and gave her a warm smile. “I’m sure everything will work out just fine.”

  Shannon wished she could feel as assured.

  Courtney went down again, and the three of them ate dinner together without talking about T.J. Shannon was mulling their earlier words and grew more and more concerned she’d done irreparable damage to their relationship. She wanted to call him, but thought he’d feel chased. She decided she needed to trust him to come home soon.

  Ollie and Rory stopped by the house looking for T.J.

  “He left about an hour ago,” she told them.

  “That’s when he tried calling us. You know where he went?”

  “No. Sorry. He needed to do something. I’m not exactly sure wha
t it was.”

  After the boys left, Shannon decided she would turn in early. She took a long hot shower and settled in to bed, reading herself to sleep.

  Two hours later, T.J. awakened her, kneeling at her bedside. “Wake up, Shannon,” he whispered.

  She could smell alcohol on his breath as he tenderly kissed her.

  “Come on honey, we have to talk.” He picked her up out of the bed and sat with her across his lap in the reading chair. She found the shelter of that spot just below his chin where her head fit so well, the warmth radiating from his body along with the sound of his heart and the ebb and flow of his breathing.

  She spoke to the top of his shirt, her forefinger tracing over his lower lip. “Where did you go?”

  “I went over to the house. I got out Frankie’s 30-year old whiskey we brought back from one of our cross-country trips and opened it. We were saving it for some special occasion.”

  “What’s the special occasion?”

  “Well, maybe I got ahead of myself.” His fingers worked over the tension he felt in her shoulders, her upper spine. Hear me out, Shannon. And then you tell me.”

  She lay back against his chest as he began again. His raspy voice was something she could listen to forever.

  “I was thinking about what was wrong with me. I have you. I have beautiful Courtney. My past is, well, behind me now. I have a sister. All the right parts are so right, and the wrong parts are gone. Except for this homegrown threat, which is real and considerable, everything about my life, our lives, is going well.”

  She snuggled closer to him and sighed. “Yes, T.J. we have it all.”

  “What happened in the hospital made me realize that anything can happen at anytime. We can’t control it all. Ever. We try, we pay attention, but it’s an illusion to think we can. We have to live with it.”

  She wasn’t sure where he was going with this.

  “And I’ve been fighting it, Shannon. I’ve been holding my breath and resisting this.”

  “Resisting what?”

  “Taking life on life’s terms.” He squeezed her tightly. “I was waiting until the baby was born. Then waiting until we were settled here. And honey, I don’t want to wait any longer. What if we all die tomorrow? I mean, Frankie taught us that.”