Trusting a Warrior

by Melanie Hansen

  “Yeah. Probably the helo spotter—”

  Before the words had even left Geo’s mouth, Cade was yanking his combat knife from the sheath on his thigh and putting it to the kid’s throat.

  “What the hell?” Geo took a step toward them, only to stop in his tracks when Cade tangled his fingers in the guy’s hair and pulled his head back into a painful arch. A thick bead of blood formed under the razor-sharp blade and slid down his smooth skin to stain the neckline of his shalwar kameez.

  Cade’s eyes looked unfocused, wild. “Can’t let him live. Can’t let him shoot down any more helos.”

  Horror turning his blood to ice, Geo fought to keep his voice calm. “Barlow, don’t do this. He’s unarmed. He’s injured.”

  Several feet away, Bosch shifted uneasily. His training had been exhaustive in identifying threats, and he’d been taught not to go after American uniforms. This scenario confused him, and Geo could see his hackles go up.

  “Foei,” he whispered urgently. No.

  The dog didn’t move any closer to Cade, but he didn’t back down either. He stayed in an aggressive stance, legs splayed, chest up. A low growl rumbled in his throat.

  Hearing it, Cade let go of the kid’s hair and pulled his pistol, which he aimed directly at Bosch’s head. “Keep him away from me, George. Keep that bastard away or I swear I’ll put a bullet in his brain.”

  That bastard. The dog that’d just saved eight lives. Angry muttering came from the SEALs now arrayed in a circle behind Geo.

  For the space of three heartbeats—the longest of Geo’s life—Cade didn’t waver. Bosch growled again, and Geo braced himself.

  He’s gonna shoot my partner right in front of me. Holy shit.

  The silence stretched, broken only by Cade’s harsh breathing and the prisoner’s whimpers, and then Geo’s knees went weak with relief when Cade suddenly clicked on the safety and put the gun away. Calling Bosch to him, Geo tethered him to his belt, trying to hide how his hands were shaking.

  After that, the fight visibly leached out of Cade. His shoulders slumping, he dropped his knife to the ground. Immediately a couple of SEALs grabbed the teenage insurgent’s arms and hustled him away.

  Jaxon strode up to Cade and got in his face. “What the fuck was that?”

  Blinking rapidly, his jaw clenched, Cade forced out, “Just lost it for a second, boss, when I saw that RPG launcher. It’s exactly a punk like that who brought down our guys on Three-Five.”

  Jaxon’s expression softened, and he reached out to grip Cade’s shoulder. “I know, but fuck, we’re not into vigilante justice here. This asshole will not pass ‘Go’ on the way to jail, man. You need to let the spooks handle it, aiight?”

  Cade gave a jerky nod, and with one last clap to his shoulder, Jaxon strode off, his mind already on the next task.

  After a moment, Cade looked over at Geo, his eyes dark with shame and remorse. “I’m sorry, Georgie,” he said quietly.

  “You pulled a goddamn gun on your goddamn teammate,” Geo ground out, striving for every ounce of control he possessed. “Sorry isn’t enough.”

  “I know.” Cade dropped his gaze. “There’s no excuse. Not much else I can say.”

  With that, he bent and picked up his knife. Then he moved around Geo and approached the insurgent, who gave a loud, frightened cry at the sight of him.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Cade grated, shoving the knife back into its sheath. “Need to treat your arm.”

  Standing frozen, Geo could only watch everyone get back to business as usual, as if someone they all cared about hadn’t just had a serious emotional breakdown right in front of them.

  After Jaxon got off his radio call, Geo beckoned him a little bit away from the group. “I think Barlow needs help. What just happened isn’t normal, boss.”

  “For someone who’s been through what he has, I’d say yeah, it’s pretty normal. He just needs time.”

  Before Geo could push the issue, Jaxon was already turning away, shouting, “A-10 inbound in twenty, people. Let’s hump all this shit over to that courtyard.”

  There wasn’t anything for Geo to do but let it go.

  Gritting his teeth, he grabbed a corner of the blanket filled with weapons, and with three other guys, ran it over to the compound, a tethered Bosch easily keeping pace with him. The SEALs unceremoniously dumped the blanket into the rocky dirt, then sprinted back through the gate and across the field for about a hundred yards, where they threw themselves into a ditch next to the rest of the guys.

  Cade had jammed a hood over the prisoner’s head, and the kid lay curled up on his side in the dirt, blood already seeping through the bandages on his arm. He was quiet, as if resigned to his fate.

  And why wouldn’t he be? Geo saw guys like this as more hopeless than cowardly, more sad than evil, all of which made them that much more dangerous. It was one thing to fight an enemy; something else completely to fight a hopeless one.

  What must it be like, to be so devoid of hope that shooting down helicopters or blowing themselves up seemed to be the only way young men like this could find honor? What sort of leadership asked that of them?

  Geo looked away. One who preyed on the hopeless.

  Suddenly, with a scream of powerful jet engines, a huge A-10 roared overhead.

  “They’re cleared hot,” Jaxon called over the troop net. “Keep your heads down!”

  Before Geo buried his face in the dirt, he saw a blinking object falling from the sky. A split second later, the huge fireball that erupted sent rocks, dirt and pieces of white-hot metal raining down all around them.

  Geo was practically lying on top of his dog, and he dug his fingers into the warm fur along his sides, feeling his ribs rising and falling with his reassuring breaths. Secondary explosions cracked through the air as the horrors of the compound were obliterated.

  Cleansed by the fire.

  Chapter One

  One year later

  “Smile, honey. It can’t be that bad.”

  Behind the bar, Lani Abuel grit her teeth. This dude was on her last nerve, and tip or no, she was about to go off on him. “Hey, you really don’t know what someone else might be going through, so—”

  “You’re too beautiful to frown like that,” he persisted without missing a beat. “C’mon, baby, gimme a smile.”

  She’d had enough. She planted her palms on the bar top and stared the guy right in the eye. “I don’t owe you a smile,” she said evenly. “In fact, I don’t owe you anything, unless you want to order another drink. What’ll it be?”

  Spinning around on his stool, the guy stalked off, muttering “Bitch” under his breath. Lani grabbed his empty glass and threw it in the dishwashing basket, where it made a most satisfying clatter.

  With a few vicious swipes of her towel, she got rid of the condensation rings he’d left behind. Then she tossed the damp towel away and dusted her hands together, the guy effectively erased from existence. Her existence, anyway.

  “Is it safe to sit down?”

  She glanced to the side, where a different man now stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets, eyebrows raised in inquiry. Shrugging, she waved at the empty barstool. “Be my guest. Smiles not included in the service tonight, gotta warn you.”

  “Good thing all I want is a Jack and Coke, then. Actually, make it two.”

  She mixed both drinks with brisk, efficient motions and placed the glasses in front of him. “Sorry. Not up for small talk right now.”

  “Works for me. Just came to drink and people watch.”

  “Great. You wanna run a tab?”

  With a nod, the dude fished his wallet out of his back pocket and passed her his credit card. “Please. Just keep ’em coming.”

  “You got it.” Lani turned to her register and set up the tab, swiping his card and taking a peek at the name before handing
it back to him. “Thanks, George.”

  “I go by Geo.” The man put his wallet away. “But I guess it doesn’t matter since we won’t be talking, though, right?”

  “Right.”

  True to his word, the man—Geo—didn’t try to speak to her, and luckily, the rest of the upstairs bar was relatively quiet on this Wednesday night. Lani kept busy filling the cocktail servers’ drink orders and making sure Geo’s Jack and Coke was periodically refreshed.

  She noticed he only drank from one glass, though, leaving the second one untouched. Curiosity pricked her. What could that be about? Was he waiting for someone who didn’t show?

  Grateful for the distraction, she indulged in spinning a few different scenarios. A Tinder meetup? An illicit affair? An undercover cop leaving a signal for his contact that it’s safe to approach?

  Think you’ve watched one too many episodes of Law & Order, my girl.

  At last she leaned her hip against the counter to take a breather, the pesky nausea rearing its ugly head once again. Fishing a sleeve of saltines from a shelf underneath the register, she took a few discreet nibbles before washing the cracker down with a gulp of ginger ale.

  She saw Geo watching her and sighed. “Morning sickness—it’s not just for mornings anymore.”

  “Ah.” He nodded. “Congratulations.”

  “Oh, Mama ain’t happy.” She had no idea why she’d said that, and her cheeks heated with embarrassment. “Sorry. Forgot we’re not talking.”

  He shrugged. “I never said I wouldn’t talk. It’s up to you. If you want to talk, I’m all ears. If you don’t, I’ll just drink.”

  They spent a moment appraising each other. He was olive-skinned, with dark hair and eyes. Italian, she suspected, with that last name—Monteverdi—but his husky voice held a faint hint of the South.

  He wore his hair close-cropped, and his ears stuck out just a tad to frame a pleasant but unremarkable face. His eyes, though, were anything but ordinary. A deep brown surrounded by thick black lashes, they held a wealth of self-confidence tinged with an arrogance that sent an unwilling quiver down Lani’s spine. Pair that with muscular shoulders, bulging biceps, a torso without a hint of fat on it, and she just knew...

  “You’re a team guy, aren’t you?”

  To her enormous satisfaction, she could tell she’d surprised him.

  “Good guess,” he said slowly. “You married to one?”

  “Almost. My ex-fiancé is a PJ attached to Team Three.”

  “Ex?” When his gaze dropped to her stomach, Lani could feel herself flush.

  “Baby’s not his, and yeah, it’s quite the mess,” she said, then caught herself and snapped, “Why am I even talking to you? I thought we weren’t gonna do that.”

  She spun away to draw the man at the other end of the bar a beer. Stomping back over to her register, she fully intended to ignore Geo, but he said, “You know, sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than it is to friends. Just saying.”

  Biting her lip, Lani finished ringing up Beer Guy, then busied herself wiping down the bar. Geo didn’t say anything more, but she was aware of his steady gaze. At last she grabbed a couple of lemons and a knife, plopped her cutting board down in front of him, and began slicing them into wedges.

  “Most of my friends were other team wives, so my ex—Rhys—took them with him. I haven’t heard from any of those women in months.” Chop, chop, chop.

  “What about the baby’s father?” Geo asked softly. “Is he in the picture?”

  She barked out a bitter laugh. “I don’t even know his real name.”

  Before she knew it, she was telling him about that stupid weekend hookup at a house in Malibu, a house she’d driven back up to one weekend to see if she could track the guy down, only to find out it was an Airbnb and the owner wouldn’t disclose her renters’ names or contact info.

  “I asked her to pass along a message to call me, but so far nothing.”

  She appreciated the lack of judgment, and pity, in Geo’s eyes. “That’s rough,” he said. “What’re you going to do?”

  Thoughts of all she’d lost welled up again. Without answering, she walked over to greet the small, rowdy group of people who’d just arrived. As she worked filling their drink orders, she couldn’t help but glance at Geo.

  He didn’t have his nose buried in his phone, like virtually everyone else did. Instead he sat loose and relaxed, glass in hand, watching the room. And her.

  Those confident eyes. The quiet and sincere interest on his face. He raised an eyebrow as she approached him again.

  Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger...

  “I want to keep the baby,” she said abruptly. “Maybe I’m crazy, but I want it.”

  He’d just opened his mouth to reply when Lani’s morning sickness suddenly roared back with a vengeance, the intensity of it warning her that this time crackers and ginger ale wouldn’t be enough. Gagging, she bolted toward the employee lounge next to the bar and the restroom there.

  She barely made it to the toilet, where her stomach emptied itself in heave after wrenching heave, her whole body shaking with the spasms. A warmth knelt behind her, then gentle hands gathered up her hair and held it high.

  “Oh, God,” she choked out. “No!”

  “Hey, it’s okay.” Geo’s voice was low and soothing. “I’m just a stranger you’re never going to see again, right? We can pretend this never happened.”

  Lani wanted to argue, but the nausea refused to abate, even after everything was purged. Geo continued to hold her hair out of the way as she hunched over the toilet, trembling.

  Unable to bear the awkwardness, she gasped, “So are you married? Kids?”

  “Neither.”

  “Married to the teams?”

  “Nah.” He waved one hand behind her neck, and the cool air fanning against her sweaty skin made her want to sob, it felt so good. “Just never been the type to settle down, I guess.”

  When the queasiness finally eased its grip, she collapsed on her butt to lean against the wall. Geo let her hair go and wet a paper towel at the sink, which he handed to her before crouching back down to her level.

  She pressed the cold towel against her hot cheeks. “Sorry. This is getting dangerously close to small talk territory, isn’t it?”

  His sudden laughter was rich, and the grin that spread across his face punched the last remaining breath from her lungs.

  Ordinary? No way.

  Because his cheeks crinkled and his eyes danced with genuine amusement, and Lord, in that moment he was absolutely beautiful.

  “Thanks, Geo,” she mumbled.

  “You’re welcome...?” His voice trailed off inquiringly.

  “Lani.”

  “You’re welcome, Lani.” Knees cracking, Geo stood, then extended his hand down to her. After he’d pulled her to her feet, she shakily made her way into the employee’s lounge, where she drew herself a small paper cup of water from a nearby dispenser.

  After a moment Geo said, “I guess I’ll go back to the bar. My drink is melting,” and the door closed gently behind him as he left her blessedly alone.

  Sinking to the edge of the battered leather couch, she buried her face in her hands. Jesus, a strange man had just held her hair back while she puked. How mortifying. How ridiculous. And it could only happen to Lani, the Human Disaster.

  Grimly, she tamped down another wave of self-pity. “Get over yourself, bish. This is your shit to deal with. It’s not anyone else’s fault.”

  Struggling to her feet, she brushed her hair and refreshed her makeup, then changed out of her sweaty logo tank to replace it with a clean one. Making a mental note to stash some mouthwash in her locker for next time, she fished a mint from her purse.

  Not much, but it’d have to do. It wasn’t like she’d be kissing anyone anytime soon.


  Back out at the bar, she patted her co-worker’s shoulder. “Thanks for covering, Josh. I’m okay.”

  “Good.” Josh was busy wiping down the counter. “Oh, the club manager just called,” he said. “They’re closing us down, so if you wanted to go serve...”

  Lani shuddered. “God, no. I can’t handle that tonight.”

  “I didn’t think so, and she said don’t worry about it, just go on home.” Josh paused. “Why don’t you close out your tabs, hon, and I’ll reconcile the tip jar.”

  After dealing with her other open tabs, she approached Geo, who was idly twirling his coaster with one finger. He lifted his chin toward Josh. “That dude said you’re shutting down up here?”

  “Yeah, they do that on slow nights.” She moved to her register. “I’ll have to close your tab, but the main bar will be happy to open another one for you.”

  “Nah, I was going to take off anyway. Let’s settle up.”

  She rang him out, and he signed the credit slip before stuffing a twenty in the tip jar. Lani gave him a rueful smile. “Probably should be tipping you for the hair-holding service, right?”

  “Why don’t we just consider it my good deed for the day?” Geo pushed back from the bar with a quiet, “Take care.”

  “I will.”

  As she watched, he picked up his glass and lightly touched it to the other one in a silent toast, then turned and disappeared down the stairs toward the dance floor.

  Sudden tears pricked her eyes. Ah. He’s mourning someone. I’m sorry, Geo.

  “You okay to walk to your car?” Josh asked. “I’m happy to—”

  “I’m fine,” she reassured him as she pulled on an oversized hoodie and grabbed her purse. “Gonna walk on the beach for a little while, let the fresh air clear my head. Then home to a hot bath and some tea.”

  “See you Friday, then, doll.”

  After saying goodbye to the other bartenders and servers, Lani headed out the employee entrance, which opened up mere steps from the Mission Beach boardwalk. It was busy, even on a weeknight, with runners and skateboarders, and people hanging out on their decks, along with the sound of laughter, music and screams coming from nearby Belmont Park and its rollercoaster.