“Didn’t come home, did he?” Patrick’s voice lowered.
She patted him on the shoulder. “It’s fine. He had to help a friend.”
Thane threw his enormous arm around Karen’s waist and hugged her to his side. “Course it is, and you don’t have to make an excuse on my behalf,” he reassured and gave Pat a look he knew well. Without words, it said, ‘Let’s head out and find him.’ In the short time they’d known each other, his mom had accepted Thane like a second son.
“I’ll have breakfast waiting,” she said.
As Thane closed the front screen door of the tiny bungalow, he never batted an eye at the peeling paint or the lawn which had gone to weed and dead grass. “Where’s your sister?” Thane asked.
“Cross town with a friend.”
Pat’s sister Chalise was five years younger, she’d be turning sixteen this month. She spent most nights with a friend who lived in a better part of town. His mom didn’t mind, but she couldn’t hide her sadness knowing her daughter didn’t feel she could bring her friends home.
“Let’s go find your old man.”
Pat didn’t move from the dilapidated stoop. “Why ya doing this?”
Thane turned his mountain-sized shoulders to face him. He shrugged, sending a gaze down the street.
“That isn’t an answer, Austen. We got the weekend off, and you could be calling a couple girls to hang around your parents’ pool.”
Thane Austen’s polar blue eyes could pierce any man or woman, even when he wasn’t pissed at them. The guy had a short fuse, but he was as tough on himself as he was on others. “Let’s find your dad and then we’ll grab a couple girls from St. George’s and hang out at the pool. Deal?”
Pat readjusted his ball cap. His swim buddy was a master at avoidance. “Sure.”
They hopped into Thane’s silver ‘stang with the sunroof open and headed toward Cobbs senior’s favorite watering hole. It closed around two in the morning. The owner, an old family friend, always knew where Pat’s dad could be found.
He and Thane sauntered down the alley, ignoring the bums tucked beside the green garbage containers, muttering to themselves, and approached the back door.
Pat cracked it open. “Marshal, it’s Patrick. You there?”
Marshal rambled toward them from the back office on bowed legs. “Patrick, ya looking for the old man?”
He nodded.
“Yeah, he cut out of here around two.”
“Who with?”
Marshal glanced at Thane.
“Thane Austen,” he said, introducing himself, answering the look he got.
“You one of those SEALs too?”
“Yes, sir. BUD/S class 192.”
“You boys be careful out there. I served ten years in the Marines before I decided to serve drinks to deserving men instead of watching them take a bullet.”
“Thank you for your service.” Thane nodded at him.
“Fuck that. Would have rather brought my brothers home than buried ‘em in some shithole jungle in the DMZ.”
“Vietnam.” Thane shot a glance at Pat.
“Yup, they spit on us when we walked off the plane. Imagine that!”
Both Pat and Thane waited in silence.
“I’ve been watching the news. Somalia is heating up. You boys will be dragged in for sure.”
They’d already caught wind of a new campaign named Operation Restore Hope. They had thirty days of stand down and then they would be starting their SQT’s SEAL Qualification Training. “That’s what we signed up for, Marshal. So, do you know where Dad is?”
Marshal gave them a sharp look from the one good eye he had left. “Don’t get your asses shot off.”
“No, sir,” Pat agreed.
“Your old man’s with Rhonda. Sorry, son. I know it ain’t right, but there’s no telling that father of yours he should be home with his wife.”
Marshal gave them Rhonda’s address, and he and Thane banged on the motel room door ten minutes later. The number sagged from its nail and the swimming pool, cracked, dirty and empty, baked under the sun. Refuse simmered in garbage bags that roaming dogs had ripped open, leaving the contents to smell like dead cadavers in the heat.
Thane leaned against the grungy stucco wall. “Nice place.”
“You’d think he’d rather be home.”
“Why isn’t he?” Thane prodded.
“He’s never been a decent husband, nor given a shit about us.” He shrugged. “Just the way it is.”
Before Thane could respond, his old man yanked open the door. “What the fuck do you want?”
SEAL training was good for more than just taking down an enemy combatant. It worked to steel his nerves, crush his anger, and steady his emotions which brewed below the surface like a volcano about to erupt with blistering lava. Staring at his father in a clean undershirt his mother had washed and no underwear was enough to make him lose his shit. “Time to go home, Dad.”
“Who is it?” Rhonda asked, pushing into the doorway beside him. Seeing Thane, she curled her lips, the red stain of wine and lipstick blotching the edges. “Hiya, gorgeous.”
“Fucking slut.” His father pushed her back.
“Dad, Mom isn’t feeling great today. Think you should come home.”
His old man coughed a phlegmy chunk from his throat. His mother hadn’t smoked a day in her life, and she was the one with cancer.
“What’s the matter with her?” His father ran a sweaty hand across the two-day growth on his chin.
Pat felt an inner wince looking into his father’s features. Too much like his.
Thane’s chest drew in a truckful of air. “She feels like crap because she’s sick. Maybe you should dump the Madame here and take care of the woman you married,” he growled.
Pat gazed at his friend, who looked every bit as angry as he felt.
“Who the he…” But his father didn’t finish the sentence when Thane stood to his full height, his biceps taut and a chest marbled stiff with muscle.
“We’re giving you a ride home, Mr. Cobbs. Put your pants on.”
Pat’s father grunted and turned from the doorway grumbling, “Be a second,” slamming the door in their faces.
As Pat turned away, Thane placed his massive paw on his shoulder. “I know he’s your father, but I sure as fuck don’t see a resemblance.”
“Let’s wait in the car,” Pat suggested.
They’d been through enough to know when either of them didn’t want to keep a convo going. This was one of those times.
Pat followed his father into the house while Thane stayed in the car, probably because he didn’t trust himself to not take a swing at the old man. Mom had retreated to her bedroom and left breakfast on the table. His father drew both plates toward himself.
“I’ll see ya later, Dad.”
His father grunted, but that was as much of a goodbye that he’d ever get.
Pat hated to leave his mom with him, but since his dad had pulled an all-nighter with the tramp, he’d probably sleep most of the day away. After closing the dilapidated front door with a tug, he sauntered down the walkway toward Thane’s car.
Pat owned a motorcycle. It meant two wheels of freedom to him. He’d worked through last year at a local garage before he’d joined the Navy to pay for it. By day, the garage was legit. After hours, business did a one-eighty and joined the underbelly of City Heights. The owner knew his dad and didn’t try to drag Pat into the nightly activities, which were cutting up stolen cars brought in by desperate addicts and lowlifes.
Pat closed his eyes to that side of the business. The Navy wouldn’t accept a guy with a record, and he would’ve been rejected by the SEALs if he had one. Most guys raised in the Heights landed in jail or in crap jobs. In too much of a hurry, they convinced their eighteen-year-old girlfriends, already knocked-up, to move into some dive. Before long, they’d dump her and hook themselves to another girl and make more babies they didn’t intend on taking care of. The family roots i
n his part of town were so confusing, no one could figure out who belonged to whom. A collage of Americans had settled here to make a decent life for themselves, but drugs and poverty had changed the face of the part of San Diego everyone wanted to ignore.
When he hopped into Thane’s car, he didn’t look at him. “Buy ya breakfast at St. George’s.”
“I’ll buy you breakfast. You deserve it for putting up with that fucking asshole.”
Patrick tossed a look at his fair-haired friend who had grown up with every creature comfort a guy could want. Thane’s dad had a permanent posting in San Diego after twenty-five years of service, but his mom’s job gave them the perks. Thane had grown up in the burbs of La Jolla. He, his two sisters and a younger brother never knew what it was like to open the fridge as a starving teenager and see nothing in it. Only when Thane started visiting Pat’s family did he really get the difference between the two pieces of ground not far in mileage, but a million miles apart in class. Nor did he seem to give a shit where Pat had grown up.
When they’d been freezing their asses off, tired past reason during Hell Week, Pat realized it didn’t matter where you came from. It wasn’t written on your skin or color one’s ability. He found his strength and his endurance the same place Thane had, in the United States Navy.
Thane shrugged a shoulder. “Sorry, man, I know he’s your dad.”
“Nah, you’re right. He’s a dick. I know it.”
Thane started the car. “Being a dick isn’t a genetic trait, ya know,” Thane added.
A grin cracked half of Pat’s face, although the thought niggled in his gut sometimes. “Let’s go check out the scenery.”
“My man.” Thane punched his shoulder.
Nothing like a pretty girl to make a guy feel good about himself. They drove out of the worst part of San Diego and joined the rest of the city where the streets swelled with money from new business and tourism.
* * * *
Pulling into a spot at St. George’s, the favorite hangout for the SEALs and other Navy types from the base, he and Thane headed inside. The place doubled as a restaurant by day and a hopping night club in the evening. He and Thane had gotten lucky during the day here just hanging out, and having a few beers and a hamburger. Frog Hogs didn’t only hunt at night.
Drawing open the front door, he let Thane pass and then entered behind him. Yup, nice scenery, but it wasn’t the line of windows facing the ocean. A couple of sweethearts sat at the bar, having a drink.
“Mmmm, hungry.” Thane raised a brow at the girls. “Wonder if there’s a two for one special going on?”
Pat chuckled. “Don’t know, but think you should share with your swim buddy, don’t you?”
Thane clicked his tongue. “Suppose. Let’s see what happens.”
They sat at a table and both let out a deep sigh.
“Life’s not half bad, Cobbs.”
After the waitress deposited two beers, they toasted. “Not too bad at all, Austen,” Patrick agreed, taking a slow drink and a long look at the blonde on the left.
Thane settled his half-empty glass and leaned his forearms on the table. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna get tired of this life. Aside from taking a chance we’re gonna get our asses blown sky high, the perks are like being a rock star with the ladies.”
“When I look at my parents’ marriage, I’d have to agree.”
Thane tipped his glass at him. “If it wasn’t for your parents, I wouldn’t have had you kicking my fucking ass through BUD/S. I’m gonna be returning the favor in SQT’s.”
“Do your worst, man. We’re both gonna make it. We’re halfway there. I’m going to enjoy my next three weeks off, and then it’s balls to the wall.”
“I remember somewhere between my balls falling off in sub-zero temperatures and dehydration, you told me you waterski,” Thane said. “Just so happens, my parents have a pretty cool jet boat.”
“Name the time and place. I’m in.” Pat watched one of girls at the bar swivel in her seat. Come on, sweetheart, build up that courage to come over here.
“Are they coming?” Thane read Pat’s expression and added a wicked smile of his own.
“Give it ten seconds.”
Thane jerked his head and grinned. “I call the one on the right, since you like the other one.”
Pat chuckled. “How the fuck would you know that?”
“Observant, man. It’s gonna keep me alive.”
Patrick leaned back in his chair. “Nine and half seconds and here they come.”
“No life like it.” Thane threw on what Pat had learned was the smile he used to lure women like a cobra from a basket.
No one of the feminine persuasion could resist him. Thane Austen had irresistible, blond and sunbaked written all over him. Pat had still waters and eyes women couldn’t stop commenting on. Really, he was a freak of nature. His mom had blue eyes and his dad’s were hazel. Where Pat got his platinum silver eyes was a mystery. Not that he would ever contemplate marriage any time soon, but he wondered whether one day his kids would have the same trait.
Thane was satisfied screwin’ random women for the rest of his days, but Patrick read his own cards differently. He’d listened to the team guys talking in the Mess. Their wives and families had them leashed tight when they were home and the guys loved it. It’s what kept them ducking bullets from the tangoes.
As he watched the hot, leggy blonde follow her friend toward him, he stashed his thoughts of who the special woman would be to keep him breathing. Right now, he was ready to unleash some heavy panting with the sweetheart in the hip-hugging miniskirt.
“Ladies.” Thane turned up his smile to a high-wattage output. “I’m Thane Austen and this is the silent but deadly Patrick Cobbs.”
The blonde’s gaze swayed his way, and Pat crushed the chuckle rumbling in his chest. They hadn’t faced deadly yet, but if the girls wanted to think so, who the hell was he to argue. He slowly pulled out the chair beside him, but didn’t say a word while her big blues ate him up.
“You have amazing eyes,” she said.
He arched a brow and a twist of a smile curled his mouth, indicating he was going to give her a chance to see them close up and personal.
Chapter Four
The music in the nightclub thumped with a deafening beat. People yelled at each other just to make out every second word. Bodies ground together and crushed Marg against the bar. The L.A. scene wasn’t very different than this favored San Diego bar, except the guys and gals weren’t wearing thousand-dollar outfits in St. George’s. Set on the water’s edge of Coronado Island, the heartbeat of the naval base and air station not far away, the guys in the club belonged to Uncle Sam.
Her modeling schedule had been stringent. She intended to enjoy every second of her first night off. At the end of today’s shoot, Amie and Teresa, the other models, asked what she was up to tonight. When she suggested St. George’s, the girls dived in, exclaiming they hadn’t hooked up with a sailor lately.
Marg had this weekend all to herself. She gazed over the crowd, her friends from the modeling agency lost on the dance floor. Scanning the bobbing heads, most of the men had short haircuts. Her parents would shudder at the thought she’d surrounded herself with sailors and fly boys, which made her smile even more.
“A man can’t resist a smile like that,” a low timbre said next to her ear.
She turned and her gaze walked up the hulk of muscled chest, bulging against a white cotton shirt until it reached tropical blue eyes, making her legs weaken.
“Hi.” A wickedly handsome smile curved his lips.
Her heart turned a triple somersault staring into his face. His angular jaw made her heart leave skid marks in her chest. Short blond hair and rugged features left her mouth gaping. Just a little.
He leaned over and brushed her ear with his lips. “Thane Austen, and I am most definitely going to buy you a drink.”
She breathed out a shallow gasp of air as the sexy rumble of his voice co
ursed through her. Thane only leaned back far enough to look into her eyes. The heat in his was her undoing. Whether this man wanted forever or not, she knew they were going to be in each other’s arms before the night was over, and the drum of her pulse told her it couldn’t happen fast enough. Her eyes locked with his, and she smiled.
“Aww, hell, you are beautiful,” Thane said. “Where did you come from?”
She leaned toward him, lured by his scent. “It’s where I’m going, not where I’m from, that counts. How about you?”
“Short term, I hope it’s making you a satisfied woman. Long term, wherever the Navy sends me.”
“So you’re a sailor.”
He gave her grin. “A SEAL, not a sailor. There’s a difference.”
“There is?” She’d read an article in the newspaper once about SEALs. They were a special fighting force the Navy used on dangerous assignments.
“My swim buddy and I just finished our BUD/S this week. We’re celebrating.”
“What’s a bud? And where is he?”
Thane’s eyes remained on her, eating every inch up as the sensual heat between them grew.
“Zodiak’s on his way. He had some family stuff to take care of.” His thumb swept her hip bone. “And BUD/S is something we can discuss later.”
Her lips quirked. “Zodiak? That’s a strange name.”
“It’s his team name. Patrick Cobbs is his real name.”
“And do you have a team name?”
“Not yet. It usually comes from something stupid we’ve done during training.” He laughed. “So, you here with anyone?”
She swallowed her excitement when his palm slid up her arm and his finger brushed small circles on her bare shoulder. “I came with some of the modeling crew from my shoot.”
“You’re a model?” He nodded. “Not surprised.” Thane’s sexy timbre lowered even further. “Why don’t we get out of here? Wouldn’t want you tempted away from me.”
She doubted that could ever happen. Thane’s confidence and hotness left her steaming in a puddle of lust. Acting like a cheap slut crossed her mind, but not even the A-list guys from college had Thane’s magnetism.
Marg couldn’t control her impatient hand. It had to touch him, and she slid it down his powerful arm, coiling her fingers in his. “Sounds like heaven.”
Code Name: Forever & Ever (A Warrior's Challenge series Book 5) Page 4
