The Power of a SEAL

by Anne Elizabeth

  She kissed the sweetness from his lips, drinking the delightful tang of her own essence, and then kissed along his ears and neck as he set a fast pace. Twin climaxes hit them, and they cried out together in satisfaction.

  Sea lions and dolphins joined in, a cacophony of sound that echoed around them.

  “I guess they approve,” said Leaper.

  “Ha-ha,” said Kerry. “Oh, shit. Do you hear footsteps?”

  A knock sounded on the door. “Uh, hello. Is everything okay in there?” asked a security guard from the other side of the thin wooden barrier.

  Kerry gulped, horrified and embarrassed. She covered her eyes with her hand. “Yes, Fred. We’re fine. We’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Is the, uh, gentleman okay too? Sorry, I need to ask that.”

  “Hell no! She just drained the life out of me,” replied Leaper.

  “Leaper, shush!” Kerry hissed.

  “No rush, ma’am,” Fred said. “I understand.” With that, his footsteps retreated down the dock.

  Kerry liked that he helped her dress first and then took care of his own needs. When she was fully clothed, she swatted at him.

  He was buckling his belt, but he dodged. Damn those SEAL reflexes.

  “I have to work with these people, you know,” Kerry said. “Good Lord, what will my friend Emme say?”

  Leaper caught her around the waist and pulled her to him. “Bring it on, baby. I love it when you get fiery.”

  “In for a penny…” She sighed and rolled her eyes before giving into his antics. This was Leaper in all his glory, and she couldn’t stop wondering what was coming next.

  Chapter 4

  Understanding the soul is like pinning down a buoyant spirit. You have to catch it, crush it, and analyze it before you understand it—but then it’s changed forever. Leaper mused on that heavy thought as he hummed the lyrics of Thirty Seconds to Mars’s “Kings and Queens.” The music cried of the ache in the soul, as if Jared Leto had looked into Leaper’s darkness and pulled out his struggles. Leaper agreed with the song. Even in full light, something lingered, a shadow that fell on the soul until the light could burn it away.

  His head rocked in time to the song. Leaper knew he saw the world differently than most people, but the fact that musicians touched him so deeply made him aware of the kindred spirits out there. Was Kerry going to be one of those? He hoped so. If he was wrong about her, well, he’d already revealed too much, too soon. Why had he done that? Wasn’t it easier to stay closed off and apart from the world? That was his usual modus operandi.

  His movements slowed until he was completely still, mired the quicksand of his worry. Sitting cross-legged on a wooden desk, where one wrong move meant a splinter in the ass, was a prickly experience. Leaper closed his eyes and attempted to meditate, approach it from a Zen prospective. “Oh-um.”

  Offices in the BUD/S building reminded him of grade school—the stale smell of the air, the chalk dust. Windows were few and high off the ground so you couldn’t look in or out, and the walls were long and heavily fortified. Most of the doors opened to a large, flat playground area called the First Phase Grinder. There were outlines on the ground of Churchill fins for recruits to put their feet on when they lined up. A giant creature from the black lagoon, a gift from a graduating BUD/S class, watched as the trainees went through their calisthenics, were given announcements, etc. The area wouldn’t have been complete without the iconic brass bell, where trainees had the choice to ring-out and leave the program.

  Leaper knew his share of guys who’d stayed in training and plenty who had rung out. But there were always reasons for a choice, two sides to every coin. He had always been glad he stayed, even on his worst days. Unfortunately, today he was feeling like he was about to get shot in the ass, and he didn’t know how to avoid it. “Ohh-uuummm.”

  “Hell’s bells, what crap has landed on my desk?” boomed a deep baritone voice.

  Leaper cracked an eyelid and focused on the figure in the doorway. The man’s body was so large, it filled the frame, blocking any sunlight from creeping through. “My god, you are mammoth! Have you gained weight?” Leaper asked Declan.

  “Bastard!” Declan closed the distance in three strides and clapped his hand on the back of Leaper’s neck. Instead of clamping down and bestowing a nerve-cramping block, he pulled Leaper in for a hug. From beneath the massive arms, Leaper said, “Your pits smell like moldy cheese.”

  A chuckle turned into a guffaw as Declan sat down in the old, squeaky chair about a foot from the desk. “Your breath smells like a camel’s ass.”

  “You should know.” Leaper uncrossed his legs and hopped off the desk. He located another chair and pulled it closer. “How’s the leg?” He pointed to Declan’s prosthesis. “You’re limping more than usual.”

  “Yeah, I might need another surgery, but it’s good enough for now. It gets me from here to there.” Declan tapped his temple. “How’s your skull? Still whacked?”

  Hanging his head, Leaper clasped his hands together and hunched his shoulders. “Perhaps. I don’t know. The doctors think so, and oddly enough, today I actually want to talk. Do you have time?”

  Pursing his lips, Declan got up from the squeaky chair, walked to the door, and closed it. He sat again. “You have my full attention. What’s going on?”

  “Gabir.” The name alone spoke volumes. Declan had backed him up that day. He was Leaper’s best friend, swim buddy, and Teammate, and the experience tormented them both. It had been years before they could handle talking about it. Leaper wasn’t sure why he had told Kerry about it, but it couldn’t be taken back. He scrubbed his nails over his scalp and then clasped his hands together again. “I talked about it. Other than you, I’ve never…”

  “I’ve shared with Maura. I told her about a year ago.” Declan shrugged. “I was holding our daughter in my arms, and the waterworks started. I couldn’t turn them off. Maura came in and found the two of us wailing, and she wrapped her arms us and starting singing ‘Amazing Grace.’ Both of us stopped and listened. After we put the baby in her cradle, I took her outside and told her about Gabir. She didn’t judge me or offer advice. She just listened.” Wiping a hand over his face, he added, “Must be a special soul, this lady, if you shared.”

  “She…isn’t the reason I’m here.”

  Declan leaned forward. “What is?”

  “Declan, I’m worried that I’m broken.” Leaper slapped his palms on his chest. “Something’s snapped in here. I know I’ve avoided talking to you about my last Op, but everything is hitting me, and I can’t seem to fix it. You know me, I’m the man with a plan. I’ll follow the steps or wing it and get to my destination. But where am I going? My whole life has been the Team, and I don’t know who or what I am outside of it.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been there, buddy. One option, you could contact the Honor Foundation and apply to their program. It’s an amazing foundation. I’ve heard it makes the transition for Spec Ops Warriors significantly easier.” Declan frowned. “But I think you’d have to be close to retiring to do that. I’m considering applying when I’m ready.” He lifted his hand and then dropped it. “You’re not retiring, are you?”

  “I don’t know. It might be time for some kind of change,” sighed Leaper. “But you, my friend, are never retiring. They’ll have to physically remove you from the base to get you to go.”

  Declan chuckled. “So true.”

  “Honestly, I don’t think I’m ready to leave the Navy. I just don’t know if I can continue to do all of this, or even if I’m…functioning right.” Leaper shrugged.

  “Nah, I don’t buy that ‘functioning’ bit. Sure, you pissed off a lot of docs and most of the officers in the area, but what the fuck is new about that?” Declan swatted Leaper’s arm affectionately. “Frankly, if you weren’t questioning yourself, I might be worried. If you were up to your old antics—lac
ing the coffee with scotch bonnets, replacing the cushions with pudding in all the commanders’ chairs, or taking the Spec Ops dogs on a group serenade to SOCOM… Shit, I’m glad those days are behind you, Leaper.” He tapped his fingers together. “What makes you think your mind is on the fritz?”

  “For years, we had this theory that we can get through everything, as long as we keep moving. A month dealing with doctors had me so twisted that by the time I was free of ’em, I almost bungee jumped from the Coronado Bridge. And yet a few of their questions penetrated my protective wall. Sometimes when my emotion gets too raw, hitting that dark place, a new piece of the puzzle shows itself.” Leaper let out a long, slow breath. “It fucking scares me. What it reveals is too…vulnerable. I fucking hate that feeling. I know that I cannot keep moving forever. I will have to stop, and then what? Who am I?”

  “Join the club. That’s being human. Looking for purpose. Just because we do extraordinary and dangerous things doesn’t mean we don’t have normal concerns or feelings. We eat, sleep, fuck, make love, laugh, pay bills, fight with our mates, try not to mess up our kids, and keep a roof over everyone’s heads at the same time we keep the family happy. That’s not easy stuff.” Declan leaned back in his chair, and the poor piece of furniture creaked as if it were going to split in half. “We’ve been through the grinder together, and we’ve come out the other side. You know, my swim buddy, that leaves scars. You watched me break down when the shit hit the fan with my leg, and it still rubs me raw that it was the mental aspect—not the physical challenge—that busted my balls as I literally found my footing. At the time, I had this image of what I needed to look like and who I needed to be, and that expectation nearly killed. Took me a long time to let go and accept myself. Emotions can tie you up in knots. The main thing to remember is, there’s no such thing as good or bad when it comes to life and memories. Judgment doesn’t change any facts; it only hangs a target on your survival and longevity. The best course of action is to just watch, listen, and let the world teach you. Take what works and let go of what doesn’t. Then fucking forgive, and release the negative energy.”

  “Pretty Zen of you. I was practicing my best pose on your desk there.” Leaper gave Declan a sheepish smile. “So you’re saying this is…useful. That I should see what my brain says—if it gives me info I need to share—and then do so. Take a life lesson if that works, or let it go.” Leaper bobbed his head. “Brother, I’m still a fuckup. Why did you want me here, at BUD/S?”

  “Leaper, I’ve been requesting your presence for the past two years. I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t think you have a lot more to say and a ton more to teach these trainees. Hell, most of these guys never make it out of the gate. We’ve had several black classes, and it’s tough to not see anyone make it to graduation. You give trainees the lesson along with the challenge, and they get something more out of it. I wish more of the instructors did. Besides, I lose instructors every rotation, because some guys go on massive power trips and squash spirits instead of teaching important techniques. I know you. You are very different, my friend. You have no ego.” Declan patted Leaper’s back and left his hand there for several seconds. “You’ve got a ton of crazy, that’s for sure, but in my book that’s a good thing. Trust your instincts, Lefty. Your ideas are worthwhile.”

  Leaper slapped away Declan’s hand playfully. “Aw, stop wooing me. I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “I knew life with you was going to be unusual when you admitted how much you loved music, and that if you had to choose a theme song it would be the Pixies’ ‘Where Is My Mind?’” Declan threw his hands up in the air. “Who defines himself by a song, let alone that song? Damn, Leaper.”

  “Well, hell, everyone should soundtrack their life.”

  “Grapevine says you’ve got more than someone in your life. I’ll say it again: How am I the last to know the details? Tall? Fat? Short? Skinny? Blond? Brunette? Red? Or a combination of all of the above?” Declan frowned. “Thought I was your best friend, man, your brother, and this is how you treat me. I don’t know shit.”

  Leaper rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, cry me a bucket of tears while I pull out my teeny violin and play along.” He touched Declan lightly on the arm. “Fuck off, Dec. I’m just getting to know her.”

  “Maura will have a few things to say if you don’t bring her by the house soon. You think I’m being a drama queen? She freaks when she’s the last to know about something happening in your life. Don’t make her hunt down your lady and drag her to the house.” Declan sniffed loudly, goofing around. “You’d think you were her kid or something, the way she dotes on you. Might make a certain husband jealous now and then.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, man, when you’ve got it—” Declan tackled Leaper then, cutting him off. Swim buddy love! The chairs fell over with loud bangs, and the wooden desktop cracked as they landed on it. They hit the floor with twin thuds, mock wrestling each other. Not that this was a standard approach, but this was private and they were closer than brothers. Besides, the odds were fairly even. Declan was big and strong, but Leaper was wiry and fast. Best case scenario: both of them would be going home with bruises. Worst case: one or both of them would be stopping at medical for touch-ups before they returned to work. It got the blood pumping and the men laughing, and after a few minutes they called it a draw.

  * * *

  People stood in long lines, waiting to eat. The diner in Point Loma was rocking fifties music cranked at maximum volume. The waitstaff was dressed in costumes to match the tunes, and the smell of burgers grilling and bacon frying made Leaper’s nostrils flare. He scanned the room looking for Kerry, who had chosen a booth in the dimly lit room against the far wall.

  Sliding in next to her, he whispered. “The food is great here, especially the milk shakes, but it’s murder on my ears. Mind if we ditch for somewhere else?”

  She nodded and placed her menu back on the table. He stood and offered his hand.

  Kerry took it. As he pulled to her feet, he could see the edge of her white bra strap. If only they could substitute food time for another type of delight and satisfaction. Kerry must have read his mind, because she raised her eyebrows and brushed her chest against his before they maneuvered out of the tight enclosure. Together, they slipped out the back door and walked hand in hand.

  “Let’s take my car,” she said.

  “Sure.” Leaper didn’t feel like weaving around traffic right now, so it was probably for the best that they took her vehicle. He sighed softly. Though he appreciated Declan’s advice about not allowing images of what he should be to get in the way of what he actually was, adding a lady to the mix was another matter entirely. Shouldn’t he put his own life in order before getting closer to Kerry? There was all this minutia, this indefinable gobbledygook, that clogged his brain. God, maybe he was being silly. Kerry was awesome, and this was the first time he’d really connected with a lady like this.

  Damn, this was frustrating. Why couldn’t someone just give him some answers?

  “In-N-Out?” Kerry suggested. Her bright smile calmed him. Even the sound of her voice was soothing. He didn’t want to lose her, or whatever this was. “I like their grilled onions on burgers. Don’t ask me why, but I have a craving.” She unlocked the car, got behind the wheel, and buckled up.

  “Sounds good.” He took the passenger’s seat. His mind was spinning in ten different directions as he buckled his seat belt. If only he could turn off his thoughts for a little while. He just wanted to enjoy this moment with Kerry.

  Tracking the landscape as they headed for the burger joint, he listened to her talk. His mind drifted back to something one of the doctors had said. “Regardless of when you want to deal with issues, they will arise and demand attention. Keep that in mind as you walk out of here without taking advantage of all we have to offer. The backlash could be significant.”

  Significant how? he wondered.

  Kerry’s voi
ce cut into his thoughts. Had she just asked him a question? He looked back at her blankly with no idea of what to say.

  “Okay,” she said, “what’s going on? I’ve been babbling for almost twenty minutes.” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “It’s too late to get out of line. We’re boxed in. Since we’re up next, what do you want to eat and drink?”

  “Chocolate shake, fries with cheese, and lettuce wrap double-double plain with grilled onions.” Leaper rattled off his favorite items. This was a rare day, as he usually ate seafood, salads, and drank protein drinks and tons of lemon water, but when in Rome, or in this case, San Diego… Even the name In-N-Out usually made him smile, though his mood was subdued today.

  “Please let me treat you.” Leaper handed her a twenty, watching her pause and wrestle with the thought. If she was thinking that hard, he’d already fucked up somehow.

  She pulled through the line, paid using his money, gave him the change, and collected the food. Finally, she parked in front of a large billboard ad.

  He watched her grab a small tub of disinfectant wipes from the backseat. She used one and gave one to him. When their hands were clean, she distributed the food and drink. They ate silently for several minutes.

  Kerry broke the silence. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way about me, but I like you. The stuff we’ve shared means something to me. I don’t want to lose that.”

  “Me neither,” Leaper agreed, holding her gaze. Please don’t give up on me.

  “Let me take a guess. You’re feeling vulnerable.” She nodded. “I can see I hit the right answer. Fine. I get it. But don’t take your frustration out on me because you overshared. I shared my feelings too, and that was as honestly given as your sharing.” She folded up her napkin, spilling part of her burger.

  He caught it and handed it back to her.

  She placed it on a clean napkin. “Thank you.”

  “Kerry, I’m sorry. I’m not good at this stuff.” Leaper put his hands on her free one, stilling her action of toying with the napkin edge.