Flying Monkeys [Drunk Monkeys 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Tymber Dalton

  Pandora, who had a batch of pancakes cooking on a griddle stretched across two burners, angrily shook her spatula at him. “You know what, Roscoe? From now on, you are forbidden to come to breakfast unless you’re accompanied by Annie or Niner.”

  “Oh, holy crap, now what did he say?” Niner asked as he slipped past both of them.

  Roscoe grabbed Kyong’s shoulders and turned her to keep himself covered as he moved to talk to Niner. “I didn’t mean it like that, Pandora. I swear! Dude, tell her.”

  “You’ve got a funny way of paying out compliments, then, asshole,” the redhead shot back.

  “How about we duct-tape his mouth before he comes downstairs?” Niner asked as he reached for a couple of pancakes that were done and waiting on a tray. “Would that work?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “What’d he say?” Kyong asked, figuring if she was being used as a human pancake shield, she wanted to know what she was risking her clean flight suit over.

  “He said,” Pandora said, shooting him a glare over Kyong’s shoulder, “that they smelled good, not like they normally smelled.”

  Kyong snorted, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Dude, really?”

  “I swear, I meant compared to base food! Not compared to your other pancakes, geez!”

  Kyong decided to throw him a bone. “Well, he does have a point,” she said. “If you’ve never eaten base food, it can be pretty rancid.”

  “See?” he said from behind her, peeking past her. “Even she says so!”

  Annie walked into the kitchen and smacked Roscoe upside the head. “All right, what the hell did you say to her now, asshole?”

  “Hey!”

  “Can you forgive him?” Niner asked Pandora. “I agree, base food sucks.”

  Pandora made a big show of considering it. “Okay, fine.” Roscoe flinched as she shook the spatula at him. “I’ll let you off…this time.”

  “I’m sorry!”

  Kyong escaped Roscoe, who proceeded to use Annie as his human shield while he got his breakfast and scurried out of the kitchen. When he was gone, Annie, Niner, and Pandora all broke out into gales of soft laughter.

  “I take it there’s backstory?” Kyong asked.

  “Ask one of the guys today,” Niner said as he filled a coffee mug. “It takes some explaining. Roscoe has special…talents.”

  “Pissing women off,” Annie added. “Without even trying.”

  Roscoe wasn’t bad-looking at all. Handsome. “How can he not be good with women? No offense.”

  “Oh, he is,” Annie said. “Hey, I love the damn guy, and I’ll be the first to admit he’s an asshole. He doesn’t mean to be.”

  “And he is a lot better than he used to be,” Pandora admitted.

  “Wow. Better?”

  The three of them nodded.

  Maybe I’d be better off single.

  There was a reason she’d never wanted to pursue a relationship with any of the guys she’d rolled around with in a rack. The guys she felt physically attracted to usually weren’t relationship material. Or, if they were, they were either taken, or gay.

  Since she wasn’t into being the other woman, and she didn’t have a magical ability to grow a peen, that meant she accepted her partners’ shortcomings in the personality department in exchange for a few hours of pleasure.

  Fair trade, in her book.

  * * * *

  Foxtrot felt weary to his core. They’d been scouring not only the old Seattle Underground area, but a rabbit warren of other connected tunnels and basements and sewer systems. But they couldn’t stop yet, because on their first night they had found a used hypo bolus containing residue that had tested positive for Kite the drug and the virus. It was the same type the other volunteers had been sent out with, and the residue inside had dried and been sitting for a while. It wasn’t an answer, but it was a clue they might finally be on the right track.

  They all agreed they didn’t want to stop until either they found her, or her body.

  In the same area they’d discovered the bolus, they found food wrappers and where it looked like someone had recently peed and crapped in a nearby corner.

  Signs of life, but how long ago remained to be seen.

  “You guys head on back,” Alpha said. “We’ll take this last corridor up to the turn and catch up in a little bit.”

  “Roger roger,” Kilo said. Four of them had ridden together in one of the trucks, and far be it for them to argue with the unit’s second.

  Especially if it meant they might get to S-S-and-S before the others did.

  When they reached the safe house, Foxtrot realized Kyong must still be there because the other vehicles sat parked in the garage. After a clear stick test, they all trooped upstairs, Foxtrot hanging back at the rear.

  Sure enough, when he walked into the common dining area, he spotted Kyong immediately. As if he had built-in radar to find her.

  Before he could lose his nerve, he peeled off from behind Kilo, too quickly for his partner to stop him. Heading over to Kyong, Foxtrot dropped his voice.

  “Can we talk, please?” He didn’t want to spend the next days or weeks revolving around her invisible presence without getting a chance to actually speak to her.

  “Foxtrot,” Kilo called out from across the room. “You coming?”

  “In a minute, dude. I’ll be right there.” He looked back to her and switched to Vietnamese. “No one else can speak Vietnamese except Alpha, and he’s not here. Look, I’m really sorry we got off on the wrong foot. Just do me a favor and don’t pass judgment on me or Kilo until you get to know us, okay?”

  She looked like he’d slapped her, but he couldn’t understand what he’d said this time that had shocked her or pissed her off.

  “We’re fine,” she said, sounding anything but fine. “I’m fine.”

  He was aware of people watching them, conversations starting to fall quiet, and he felt comforted that at least with Alpha not in the room, no one else understood what they were saying.

  “You’re not fine, and I don’t know why you’re not fine, but please trust me and let me in. At least talk to me. Let me be an ear for you as a friend if nothing else.”

  “You don’t know anything about me!”

  “But I’d like to. What’s triggering you right now, huh? Why did you just go from calm to freaked out? Like the other day in the truck. It wasn’t just because I swore at you, so please tell me what it was so I don’t do it again.”

  “This! Okay? This. You sound just like my dead brother!”

  He stared at her, that sinking in. “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize, geez.”

  “Then tell me what I need to do to make this right with you. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not attracted to you when I am, and so’s Kilo. If we don’t have a shot with you, please, do us a favor and tell us and we’ll leave you alone and just be friends. But if we’ve got a shot, at least let us have a chance to show you who we are before you walk away. Please?”

  “Well, I’m attracted to you guys, too, but right now, it’s not like I’m at my best, okay? I’ve been through a lot of shit lately, and now I’m here in this unit, and I have to train three guys how not to kill us or themselves while helping me fly the Panda. So excuse me if my mind’s been on things other than romance.”

  “You’re attracted to us? Really?” He hadn’t dared hope.

  “Yeah, but like I said, not like I’m in the mood to go bumping uglies with you and it’s not you, it’s me. Right now, I need to focus on my mission, which is training those three guys. I’ve got to keep my head on straight. When I’m in a better place, I’ll let you know.”

  * * * *

  Foxtrot and Kyong stood there going at it, the room silent around them as they argued in rapid-fire Vietnamese.

  Loud rapid-fire Vietnamese.

  Papa stepped up to Kilo’s side. “Do you understand what they’re screaming at each other about?” he asked in
a low voice.

  Kilo slowly shook his head. “Not a single goddamned word.”

  “Okay. Just curious. Too bad Alpha’s not here to translate for us.”

  Considering their tone, volume, and the gestures they were making at each other, Kilo wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they were saying.

  Whatever it was, his gut instinct told him it meant that what little hopes they might have had to strike up a relationship of any kind beyond professional with the beautiful pilot had just taken a running, headfirst suicidal dive from a cliff as high as Mt. Rainier.

  Fucking asshole.

  Turning, he headed for the stairwell. He didn’t want to watch this, the epic and flaming destruction of what little hope remained for a noncelibate life until they stopped the apocalypse or it stopped them.

  I’m no masochist.

  He’d dumped his gear in their room and made it into the bathroom for his shower when he heard the yelling downstairs stop.

  I don’t even want to know.

  Fuck it.

  Foxtrot was sitting on his bedroll and stripped down to his shorts when Kilo returned to the room after his shower.

  “Dude, listen—”

  Kilo pointed a finger at him. “Shut it. Now. I don’t care, I don’t want to hear it.”

  “But—”

  “No!” He threw his stuff down and stormed over to him. “I’m done listening. I heard enough downstairs and I couldn’t even understand a farking word of it! Just shut your fucking trap, get your goddamned shower, and go the fuck to sleep, okay?” He wasn’t even hungry now. Hearing the two of them screaming at each other had completely killed his appetite.

  Foxtrot looked hurt. “But—”

  “I swear to god if you don’t shut your fucking pie hole right now, I’ll punch you.”

  Without another word, Foxtrot grabbed his shower kit and headed out of the room.

  Kilo didn’t even bother tidying his gear. He closed the window blinds, turned off the light, and laid down on his bedroll to sleep.

  Asshole.

  * * * *

  Asshole.

  Foxtrot stood in the shower, letting hot water sluice over him and washing the tunnel grime away. He’d have to ambush Kilo and tell him what he and Kyong had been talking about, fast, when there wasn’t anyone else around to overhear.

  If Kilo would just let him talk and explain about Kyong and her brother, why she’d triggered, and that they still did have a pretty good shot with her, everything would be fine.

  Serves him right.

  Hell, he’d let Kilo stew about it all day while he grabbed a hearty breakfast, at least.

  When Foxtrot returned from his shower, Kilo lay with his back turned to the door and made no movement or sound to indicate if he was awake or not. Foxtrot put on a clean T-shirt and shorts and headed down to eat.

  Before he could make it to the kitchen, Papa caught his eye and crooked a finger at him, indicating he was to follow him to his office.

  With a longing eye cast toward the kitchen doorway, Foxtrot turned and followed their CO.

  “Shut the door.”

  Foxtrot did.

  Papa leaned against the wall. “Okay. What the hell was that screaming and hug about? If that’s foreplay, buddy, it’s been a while for me, but I think you’re doing it wrong.”

  Yeah, the hug. After they’d finished what he’d belatedly realized was a very loud and animated conversation, she’d stepped in and hugged him.

  Sigh.

  He smiled. “It’s kind of personal.”

  “At that volume?”

  Foxtrot shrugged.

  “I don’t need our Zeus pilot pissed off at you or anyone else in this unit. Especially not when she’s doing training.”

  “We’re okay.”

  “You sure? Because that didn’t sound okay. When she hugged you, I actually stepped forward because at first I thought she was going to wring your neck.”

  “Sorry. It might have sounded bad, but it wasn’t. We’re good. Honest. Actually, better than when we started. We cleared the air.”

  Papa didn’t look convinced.

  “You know what it’s like. You hear two people talking excitedly in a language you don’t understand, they could be raving about a good movie and you think they’re about to go after each other.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay. Dismissed. Get some rack time after you eat.”

  “Roger roger.” This time, Foxtrot made it all the way to the kitchen.

  The sound of a woman’s throat clearing startled him. Pandora sat on the counter, glaring at him.

  He held up his hands, warding her off. “I swear, we weren’t fighting.”

  She frowned. “How’d you know what I was going to chew you out about?”

  “Because Papa just chewed me out. I’m sorry. It sounded bad, but it wasn’t.”

  “Oh.” She jumped down from the counter. “Well, okay, then. You three getting together?”

  “I don’t know and neither does she. She’s…got a lot of stuff to work through. Personal stuff. And if she’d wanted everyone to know her business, she’d have said it in English.”

  “Okay.” She started heading toward the doorway, but then feinted toward Foxtrot, making him flinch away. “Don’t make me go all batter on your ass. I have pancakes, and I know how to use them.”

  “No worries.” He stared at her as she walked out of the kitchen.

  Maybe I should reconsider us being in a triad. Our women are kinda whacked.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The ride to McChord was uncharacteristically quiet that morning. Victor, Echo, and Zed made small talk relating to the Panda, but not the eager, inquisitive chatter she’d quickly grown used to from them.

  She rubbed at her temple, a tension headache threatening. She finally addressed the elephant. “Guys, everything’s okay between me and Foxtrot.”

  “Didn’t sound okay,” Victor muttered. He sat behind the wheel this morning.

  “Sounded like you two were about to take each other’s heads off,” Echo added. “If you guys hadn’t hugged, I would have swore you were about to go after him.”

  Shit. “It’s fine, really.”

  Except for road noise and the wind rushing past the truck’s cab, silence met her statement.

  “It’s…personal.”

  “We got that,” Zed snarked. “Do you want us to have a talk with them?”

  The protective and borderline outraged tone of voice he’d delivered that question in actually made her laugh. She turned to look at him over the seat. “No, no talking with, no ass kicking, nothing. I didn’t realize how loud we were getting. Full-speed Vietnamese probably sounds…animated to you guys.”

  Victor snorted. “Animated? That’s what you call it? Okay, suuurrre.”

  Silence.

  They let it drop, though.

  She steered the convo away from her. “I was told to ask you all about Roscoe and pancakes.”

  The three men burst out laughing and told her the story of Roscoe’s first run-in with Pandora back in LA. And then they had arrived at McChord and started going through another day of training.

  None of the men mentioned her animated discussion with Foxtrot again, and neither did she, even though it consumed what few spare moments she had to think about it.

  * * * *

  Kilo didn’t realize he’d even slept, but when he opened his eyes, the light had changed color and direction, and he was alone in the room.

  He couldn’t tell if Foxtrot had actually come in and slept or not.

  Frankly, he didn’t care.

  They were due to head out again that afternoon at 17:00 hours. Now that they had solid evidence to go on, they wanted to cover that whole area and the surrounding tunnels even more thoroughly. They’d been making chalk marks high up on the walls to note where they’d searched, and to save themselves time finding their way back. Made logistics a lot easier when th
ey couldn’t use GPS underground. They’d been roughly mapping out the tunnel system on a tablet as they went, but that wasn’t good for much more than reference.

  They’d been entering the tunnels via a basement in a vacant shop just off Pioneer Square, in a rundown building that was over two hundred years old, if the building records were to be believed. There were other building where access points had been located, but they were occupied, and the men were trying not to draw any undue attention to themselves.

  He dressed, checked his weapons, and headed down for chow. Now he was starving from missing breakfast earlier. Unfortunately, Kyong and the others weren’t back from McChord yet and likely wouldn’t return until after their group had already departed.

  Pandora had food ready. Since the majority of the unit was on daylight hours, Kilo and the others would eat dinner for breakfast. He still didn’t see Foxtrot anywhere, and they were scheduled to roll out in thirty minutes.

  Alpha and the others had assembled in the dining room. “Where’s Foxtrot?” Alpha asked Kilo when he sat to eat his food.

  “Been wondering that myself.”

  “Heard he had a little bit of a verbal dust-up this morning with the captain.”

  “Yep.” Kilo shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth, hoping to stall any talk.

  “Think you should go look for him?”

  “Look for who?” Foxtrot asked as he exited the stairwell from upstairs.

  Kilo looked at Alpha but pointed to Foxtrot with his thumb and went back to eating. Kilo thought he’d quit feeling pissed off at his partner after sleeping, but nope.

  Not even close.

  He knew he needed to suck it the fuck up and get over it for the sake of the mission, but now he understood why mixing romantic relationships and a deadly fighting unit weren’t a great idea, OTG status or not.

  Alpha looked from Kilo to Foxtrot and back again. Then he turned to Foxtrot and spoke in Vietnamese.

  * * * *

  “Dude,” Alpha asked Foxtrot. “Enlighten me. I thought Papa said everything was okay.”

  Foxtrot smiled. “I tried to explain to Kilo that everything’s copacetic with the captain, but you know how he is. Stubborn. He kept shutting me down. So I’d rather let him stew for now, and then he can eat crow when he finally decides to let me talk.”