by Melody Anne
“That’s a good idea,” Brackish said, in no way telling him that would be the last thing she’d want at the moment.
“Follow me then,” Bowers said and walked with him to the nurse’s station. Dr. Bowers spoke to the nurse and then left.
The nurse turned to him. “We’ll have her room ready in just a few minutes and get her moved. She’ll be on the sixth floor in room six thirty-two. You can go get something to eat or drink if you’d like. The cafeteria is on the second floor.”
By the time Brackish made it up to her room, she was tucked in, her IVs dripping, and the monitors beeping. All of her stats were good, and she was sound asleep. It was only nine in the evening, but he was exhausted. He moved over to the built-in couch, grabbed a thin blanket and curled up. He quickly fell asleep.
Brackish had a rude awakening as a pillow slammed into his face. He quickly sat up, his body tense and on alert as he looked around the room. Where was he? What was happening? His eyes locked in on Erin, and it all came back to him. It was dark outside, and his internal clock told him it was somewhere right before dawn.
“What are you doing here?” Erin asked.
Brackish was fully awake now. “I didn’t want to leave,” he said.
She sighed as she looked away from him. When she met his eyes again, Brackish was the one to sigh. He knew he wasn’t going to change her mind right now.
“Look, Steve, I appreciate you getting me here and staying. But I need some time to think over things. Can you please leave and let me process it?”
The fight went out of him. If she was yelling or being irrational, he could try to fight that. But she was injured, confused, and needing some time to herself. It would show a lack of respect on his part to not honor her wishes.
He stood up and moved to her bed, grabbing her hand and lifting it to his lips where he gently kissed her fingers. “I’m not going to lie and say it’s easy to walk out of here, but I’ll respect your wishes,” he told her. “But I’m not giving up on us. I’ll prove I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
She clamped her lips together and didn’t say anything back. With one last look, Brackish finally turned and walked from the room. He found himself in one hell of a bad mood as he exited. He wasn’t sure how he was going to fix that, and he didn’t understand why he was trying so hard to do so.
It wasn’t as if they’d known each other for a long period of time. If it was that complicated so soon after getting to know each other, maybe he should throw in his hand. But that thought turned his stomach. He liked this woman, he liked her a lot, and he felt she was worth fighting for. He needed to figure out what he could do to prove he was trustworthy.
That thought gave him another pang, because he still had one hell of a secret he was hiding from her. It was definitely not the time to tell her. If he did, he was sure to lose her. He drove home with a frown on his lips. He didn’t know where they were going to go from here — no clue at all.
Chapter Thirteen
Many in society would certainly have a difficult time with the missions the special ops team were doing. Renegade justice didn’t sit well with the general public. However, it happened more than most were aware of. As long as the teams remained in the shadows and the public stayed safe, they were okay with their lives going along as normal, filled with birthday parties, baby showers, weddings, and even funerals. Most people wanted normalcy, and they didn’t focus on what happened in the dark to ensure they had their carefree lives.
The issues of the rest of the world didn’t enter this particular special ops team’s minds. In fact, their moral code wasn’t based on the legalistic proceedings defined by society. Morality escaped those who thrived on destroying lives in their own communities. They willingly brought drugs, destruction, and even murder, into places needing help more than others. Criminals didn’t have a code of conduct, not caring if their destruction destroyed the lives of the young or the old.
This special ops team didn’t hand out jail sentences, they apprehended a few guys here and there, the biggest captive so far, the head of a Mexican cartel. That had put the men in great moods, giving them the kind of win that made all of their secret missions meaningful. The team was also aware they weren’t going to eliminate crime overnight.
Dismantling each subsequent kingpin, and the many people who followed them, wasn’t only needed, but very necessary for peace and prosperity in their communities. If they didn’t take down the system, another leader would arise, removing any short-term victory they accomplished. Success bred more success, and the team knew how to keep monumental success growing.
“What’s the update on Jorge?” Chad asked.
“We’ll be handing Jorge to the FBI around 1300 hours today,” Eyes said.
Eyes and Brackish gave an update to Chad. The other team members weren’t there that morning.
“Perfect. This went smoothly,” Chad said, jotting a note on his computer. “Out of curiosity, where’s the drop happening, and who’s doing it?” He sat back and took a large swallow of his hot coffee. He was on his fourth cup of the morning so he was starting to wake up.
“Brackish and I are doing it,” Eyes said. “Smoke and Sleep are running an op downtown. They have a couple of leads on some players who, to put it mildly, are interesting. And Green is at his job on the docks. We’ll give you a complete breakdown later on new developments that I believe will break this thing wide open, at least in terms of the drug movement. He’s having issues with his supervisor that have all of us laughing.”
“Issues?” Chad questioned.
“Yep, his direct supervisor is the kid of one of the owners, and he acts as if he’s the creator of the planet. I’m sure you can picture the entitlement now,” Eyes said, laughing. “For Green to have to take direction from a punk like him is causing him to swallow a lot of words. He hasn’t worked for anyone since he was a teen, and to pretend to need this job is probably his hardest mission to date. But he’s remembering his roots, and enjoying the ordinariness of it at the same time.”
“You have to admit the multimillionaire making fifteen dollars an hour is pretty entertaining,” Chad said with a chuckle.
“Yep, it’s why we love him in that position. It entertains all of us,” Brackish said with a smirk. He wasn’t himself this week, but they weren’t pushing him on it.
“Last week we needed Green on a long-range scout mission, the kind he’s best at, meaning he had to ask for a couple of hours off work. The kid boss lectured him about responsibility and taking his work seriously. Then he smugly told Green if it was any other boss besides him, he wouldn’t allow it, but for this one and only time he’d allow Green to go. He then proceeded to tell Green he’d have to make up the hours on the weekend.” Eyes had to stop as he finished the sentence while laughing. Chad smiled along with him.
“Yep, a Medal of Honor recipient with well over a hundred million dollars in his bank account taking orders from some young punk who only has his job because of who his daddy is can’t be an easy assignment,” Chad said.
“We need to get on with this. I have a lot of work to do,” Brackish barked.
Chad and Eyes looked at him with raised brows. Brackish wasn’t normally rude, and it was obvious he had less than zero interest in being there.
“Brackish, you won’t tell us what in the hell is going on, and I respect that. But we’re a team, and this is our leader. We don’t disrespect each other, and certainly not the man who brought us together,” Eyes said, his face stern as he stared Brackish down.
Chad raised a hand in the air. “We’re all good, Eyes,” he said before turning to Brackish. “Get your house in order, Brackish; we’re a team and one loose cannon can bring us all down. You can go now. I have some corporate things to discuss with Eyes.”
Brackish stood, his face blank as he looked straight ahead. “Later,” he called over his shoulder without a pause in his steps.
Eyes and Chad watched him disappear through the door, then tu
rned to each other without saying a word. They both knew some days were better than others, but they always respected one another. All of them had been through hell and back, and they were damn great at internalizing. Something was going on with Brackish and if he didn’t let it out soon, he’d burst. They were aware of that.
Eyes spoke when he knew Brackish was out of earshot. “Erin and he apparently got into a fight about cameras or something. I don’t know the entire story. But for the past few days she hasn’t taken his calls or responded to his messages. That’s making him damn pissy.”
“Ah, that makes sense. I should’ve guessed,” Chad said with a laugh. “Been there done that, and let me tell you, I appreciate my wife more and more each day we’re together. We disagree at times, but it doesn’t last for days, and you couldn’t pay me to get into the dating scene nowadays. Have you seen some of those online dating sites? They’re terrifying.”
That made Eyes laugh. “Nah, I think people put too much time and energy into relationships. Why in the hell seek one out when it causes chaos and pain? I say scratch the itch and run like hell.”
Chad laughed again. “Spoken like a true bachelor,” he said. “It’s going to be fun to watch you fall.”
“That’ll never happen,” Eyes said with cockiness. “I like women, don’t get me wrong, but I like multiple women. I’m too busy to worry about relationships, and I don’t need some woman nagging me to cut my hair, or fold the towels a certain way. No thank you.”
Chad laughed even harder. “Oh, my poor boy, you will definitely be fun to watch.”
Eyes rolled his eyes and then they went back to work. They got the boring crap out of the way within thirty minutes. Then Chad left, leaving Eyes to go through his emails. Most of it was junk, but one caught his attention.
He recognized that name — and the subject line was certainly catchy — Are you a god?
Opening the email, he quickly read through it with a cocky smile. It was the journalist who’d interviewed him and Sleep years earlier — Courtney Tucker. He read through the email; she asked if he and Sleep had read the article she’d written. Then she asked if he’d be willing to do a follow-up of where they were now. She was still getting emails from readers asking about them.
Eyes began his reply, feeling an odd thrill at the chance to see the sexy reporter, thinking he wouldn’t mind a night or two with her. Before he could finish, his computer went black, and then the entire room lost all power.
“Brackish?” Eyes called. He needed to know if this was a power outage or something more sinister. He flipped on the flashlight app from his phone then rose and walked to the hall where he heard Brackish cursing.
“What’s going on?” Eyes asked.
“I screwed up the entire system,” Brackish snapped. “This piece of shit component couldn’t handle seventy percent of what it’s supposed to handle.” He slammed his fist down on the table. “Dammit!”
Eyes walked into Brackish’s workspace, and shone his light around, not comprehending all he was looking at. There were monitors, computer towers, and so many wires running all over the place he couldn’t fathom how many devices were running — or had been running. Eyes had to tamper down his smile when he thought about how it looked like a mad scientist’s lab and the person running it appeared to have gone off the deep end.
“I haven’t been in here since the initial tour. This looks like a lot of complicated electronics,” Eyes said, careful with his words.
“It’s all a bunch of crap, that’s what it is,” Brackish snapped. Before Eyes could say a word, Brackish lifted a keyboard and threw it across the room, hitting a wall and sending keyboard shrapnel in all directions.
Eyes remained calm, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched one of his team members have an adult sized temper tantrum.
Brackish continued on as if Eyes wasn’t there, shouting at electronics, slamming a few more things onto his workbench, and letting out a slew of curse words about transistors, voltage dividers, delimiters, digital mapping, and other words Eyes knew nothing about. Brackish was spinning out of control real quick.
After a few more minutes, Eyes finally spoke. “Are you going to leave anything unbroken?”
“What?” Brackish barked with more venom than Eyes had expected.
The humor left Eyes real quick. “Come again?” he asked, authority in his tone. They were teammates, and yes, Eyes was their leader, but more importantly than that, they should all show equal respect to one another at all times.
Their eyes locked and for the briefest of moments Eyes wondered if they were going to end up in an actual fight. What in the hell was going on? Was this only about a woman? Eyes couldn’t comprehend it. Eyes was tense until Brackish sighed, then dropped his eyes and shook his head as if he was trying to get his bearings.
“I’m sorry, Eyes,” he finally said. “Nothing seems to be going right. In fact, most of the things I’m touching right now are self-destructing. It’s all a bunch of shit.” He ran his hand through his hair for what seemed the hundredth time from the messy look. Eyes had been where Brackish was a few times in his life.
“Okay, fair enough,” Eyes said. “As long as the place isn’t going to burn down, walk away from this. If you can get the power for the facility back on quickly, do that. Then meet me outside at the cars.”
“I can get the power on within minutes, but not the electronics. That’s going to take a while,” Brackish said.
“Good. Meet me outside in ten.”
Brackish arrived in exactly ten minutes. They got into one of their vehicles and drove away. For several minutes they didn’t speak, just rode in silence. Brackish was pissed at the world but Eyes knew he’d come out of his foul mood. The team couldn’t afford for him to take too long though.
“Listen, bro, we have a job to do, and I need the old you back,” Eyes finally said. “Whatever it takes for you to find your Zen needs to happen. We can’t be a team when one of us isn’t fully engaged.”
“I know,” Brackish said with a sigh.
“Do you need to talk about it?” Eyes asked.
“Not at the moment,” Brackish said.
Eyes stopped talking, and they continued to drive. After about twenty minutes they turned into a huge complex that held a driving range with multiple levels.
“I’m not in the mood for this,” Brackish said as Eyes parked.
“I’m not in the mood for you to be an asswipe either, but here we are,” Eyes told him.
Brackish rolled his eyes, but he climbed from the car when Eyes did. They walked inside the place, paid for a couple of bays, and went to their respective spots to start hammering some golf balls.
“I suck at golf, Eyes,” Brackish fired over at him. “I didn’t play sports growing up and can’t swing a club worth shit.”
“It’s a stupid driving range, not the PGA Tour, so why don’t you try to stop bitching, and let off some steam,” Eyes said, remaining calm. “It’s a beautiful afternoon, and we can either live in self-pity, or let our crap go for a few hours. Your choice.” While Brackish was trying to decide if he was going to pull out of his mood, Eyes noticed a group of women a few bays down, dressed in some nice short, tight skirts who’d definitely noticed him and Brackish. He sent them a wink.
Brackish looked at the women Eyes was flirting with and rolled his eyes. Then he let out a breath. “Fine, let’s do this,” he said, obviously not interested in the women. He moved over to the monitor, read the onscreen instructions in a flash, then finally smiled. “I could hack into this system in the same amount of time it takes most people to put on a pair of slip-on shoes,” he said smugly.
“Why don’t we try playing instead of hacking?” Eyes suggested with a laugh.
“Fine, but it’s more fun to hack,” Brackish muttered. Then he put in a fake name for him and asshat for Eyes. Eyes rolled his eyes as he looked at the overhead monitors with his bay listed as asshat.
“You’re a two-year
-old,” Eyes told him.
“I’m feeling better. I thought that’s what you wanted,” Brackish replied.
“Well, asshat is about to crush your soul. You’ll owe me a beer for every fifty points I beat you by,” Eyes told him.
The driving range had huge circles covered with netting around the flags set at different yardages. Based on the game, or how the user set up the system, a player needed to land their ball in the set zones. For both of the men who didn’t have time to play much golf, it would probably be better to just chuck the little white balls than try to hit them. But there was something about smashing a ball with a metal stick that seemed satisfying.
A waitress brought them a menu, then attempted to chat with them, giving up after a couple of seconds. They were competitive and now that the game had begun, it was on. Neither of them could easily accept a loss. She moved on.
