Let Freedom Ring

by Weston Parker

  The doctor opened his mouth, then shut it again. With a sigh, he moved back to the door to click it shut. “You can’t be caught in here. I understand you’re worried about your friend, but it will make things worse for both of you if anyone finds out you visited.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “I just wanted to see if he was okay. Is there anything you can tell me about his condition?”

  He glanced at the door, down to the book in my hands, and dipped his head back as his eyes closed. “I really shouldn’t give you any information. The best I can do is tell you that he’s stable.”

  “Okay.” I nodded, swallowing heavily. “Okay. Stable. That’s good, right?”

  An understanding smile spread on his lips. “Yes, Dobbs. Stable is good. I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ll go. I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.” Crossing to the chest of drawers beside Eden’s bed, I set the book down on top of it. “Could you ask someone to read that to him whenever they’ve got time?”

  “I’ll come by myself every afternoon if no one else can do it,” he said, pointing at the door with his clipboard. “I have to get back to my rounds, and I still need to check on Phillips before I go.”

  “Of course.” I turned to Eden’s bed, taking him in for a long moment. I envisioned color on his cheeks and that wide smile on his face, willing him to be sitting up by the time I could come back here again. When I see you again, you’re going to look so much better. Fight, Eden. You hear me? Give this fight everything you’ve got.

  As I turned to head toward the door, the doctor’s voice rang out behind me. “Dobbs?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ll call you if something changes for him. Your number is in his file.”

  “Thanks, Doc. I really appreciate it.” I pushed the door open and left him with my best friend, trusting that at least I had one person looking after him in my corner.

  It was a hell of a lot more than I had when I’d walked in there.

  Chapter 26

  Sofia

  “It’s busy out there,” I said as I walked into Haley’s kitchen at the deli. Jerking my head back to indicate the dining area, I unfurled the light summer scarf I had around my neck.

  Haley sprinkled microgreens into a salad bowl and beamed as she presented it to me. “I know. Mom took out an ad in some hotel guest books. Tourists are loving it.”

  “That’s great.” I hopped onto a metal stool and plopped my purse and scarf down on the counter, hooking one knee over the other. “See? You’re a raving success.”

  “I wouldn’t say raving,” she said as she placed the salad on the serving rack. “But things are definitely looking up.”

  “I would have waited until later to come by if I’d known you were so busy. While I’m here, can I help with anything?”

  Her blonde ponytail bounced as she nodded. Reaching for the pass, she frowned down at the orders until plucking one of the papers up and handing it over. “You can handle my Asian chicken baguette, right?”

  “Of course.” I tucked my hair behind my ears and went to wash my hands, calling to her over my shoulder. “Can we talk while we work?”

  “Please.” She checked another one of her orders and went to work after handing me a pair of gloves. “The only thing I hate about the deli is not having anyone to talk to most of the day. Tell me about Lincoln. Are you still hanging out with him?”

  “Yep, but things have taken an unexpected turn.” Baguettes lay in a basket in the center of the counter. I lifted one out and searched for a serrated knife, carefully slicing it in the way I knew Haley preferred. “I’m not sure exactly what happened, but it sounds like Lincoln somehow ended up on a mission despite being on suspension.”

  Haley looked away from the pasta dish she was putting together, a deep line forming between her eyebrows as her gaze met mine. “What? How?”

  I shrugged and popped the bread into the oven, moving to grab and grease up a pan to cook the chicken. “That’s the part I’m not exactly sure about. Dad got called in a couple of days ago, flew into a rage, and then let it slip that guys who were on suspension had gone way off script.”

  Her light eyebrows swept up on her forehead, her hands stopping their movement as she stared at me. “Are they okay?”

  “Lincoln is.” My heart burned for the pain in his, though. “I think his best friend was hurt. Quite badly. He hasn’t said it in so many words, but I have a feeling about it. Dad said one of the guys was in critical condition, and it’s not Linc.”

  Cheeks growing pale as her brown eyes darted from one of mine to the other, she waved me on. “So? Is he… you know?”

  “Alive?” I sighed. “I think so, but only because I think Dad would have mentioned it if he wasn’t.”

  The skin around her eyes tightened. “What the hell were they doing on a mission if they’re suspended?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, then chewed on the inside of my cheek. “But I think my dad is one of the people who has to decide their fate.”

  “Seriously?” Her chin dropped and worry darkened her gaze. It still hadn’t wavered from mine. “Girl, that’s wrong on so many levels.”

  “Why?” I paused, holding one marinated chicken breast above the pan. Droplets of oil and spice rolled off it, hitting the hot oil with a sizzle.

  For a minute, it was the only sound in the kitchen. Haley searched my eyes, then frowned. “Why? You’re sleeping with a guy while your dad is in charge of deciding whether he gets fired or not. Doesn’t it seem unethical to you?”

  “I’m not the one making any of the decisions.” I finally lowered the meat into the pan, fussing at it with the pair of plastic tongs in my hand as I tried to formulate my explanation. “All of this is only unfolding now. Neither of us knew it when we first hooked up.”

  “Sure, but now?” Her lips formed a flat line as she banged a metal bowl down on the counter. “Now you know who he is, who your father is to him. What if he’s only using you as possible leverage against your dad?”

  “He’s not,” I insisted, bending over to check on the baguette and drizzling an olive oil mixture over it before placing it back in the oven. “I know it might seem like it’s a possibility, but he’s really not doing that. We hardly ever even talk about my dad. The one time we did, it didn’t end well.”

  “It doesn’t mean he’s not using the mere fact that he’s slept with you as possible leverage against your dad to influence the decision,” Haley argued, keeping a close eye on my reactions. “I’m just playing devil’s advocate here. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “He’s not using me,” I said softly after thinking about it for a second. “I honestly think that it’s still a problem for him that I am who I am. I think he would have preferred it if I wasn’t my father’s daughter. I really don’t think any of this is a ploy against my dad.”

  My friend eventually shrugged. “Okay, as long as you’ve taken the possibility into consideration. I just wanted to make sure you had.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it before, but I have now, and I don’t think it’s an issue.” I supposed many people would have thought I was an idiot to trust him under the circumstances, but I did. “Lincoln’s a good guy. He wouldn’t be fucking me to get back at my father.”

  “A good guy?” She arched a well-manicured brow at me. “He sounds like a little bit of a troublemaker if you ask me.”

  “I think he just follows his own head,” I said. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and I don’t think he likes causing trouble. I just think he’s good at what he does, and he knows it, so he knows what calls should have been made.”

  “Then why isn’t he the one making said calls?” she asked, crumbling Danish cheese into the dough that had been resting in the mixing bowl. “You’re not usually one to go for the guys who don’t respect the hierarchy and the service.”

  “No, I don’t, but I don’t think he disrespects those things.” I flipped the chick
en and coated it in more marinade. “As for why he’s not making the calls, that was the subject matter of the one argument we’ve had. Dad thinks he lacks ambition. He says it’s not that, but he also didn’t explain why he’s not trying to climb the ranks.”

  Haley punched the dough down, blowing a strand of hair off her face while frowning at me. “Let me get this straight. This guy wants to do what he wants, defies orders, but can’t bother to try to become the person in charge?”

  “Don’t say it like that,” I groaned. “It sounds terrible when you say it like that.”

  “I say it as I see it.” She shrugged. “He just sounds like he’s bad news.”

  “He’s not,” I argued firmly. “There’s something more to him. Things aren’t just black and white with him. I don’t know how I know, but I can tell.”

  “Are you sure it’s not just wishful thinking?” she asked after pausing for a moment. “You’re having fun with him so you’re trying to make up excuses for him?”

  “It’s not that.” I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut, deciding to finally admit what I’d suspected for a few days now. “I’m falling for him, Haley. I’ve looked into his eyes when he lets his guard down and I’m telling you he’s not bad news. I think he’s a lot like me actually.”

  Brown eyes wide as she came to stand next to me, she turned off the heat on the pan and focused on me. “Do you realize what you just said?”

  “Yep.” I winced but then gave her a soft smile. “I’m falling for him. I know I said it, and I meant it, too. There’s so much more to him than what meets the eye. I’ve skimmed the surface and I may have dipped a little below it even. There’s something real between us. I just know it.”

  “Okay, but does he?” she asked.

  I lifted my shoulders, shaking my head as I bent to retrieve the baguette. The worry in her eyes was really starting to get to me.

  “I think he feels it, too. Sometimes when he looks at me, it’s like everything just goes still. There’s this metaphysical connection between us that I can’t explain, but I can feel it in every fiber of my being.”

  She blew out a low whistle between her teeth. “You really are falling for him. I’ve never heard you like this.”

  “Neither have I.” Probably because I’d never felt anything like this before. “But when I look into his eyes, it’s like I can see snippets of forever. It’s weird.”

  “You’re weird,” she countered but smiled at me. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean, but I can hear you mean it.”

  “I really do.”

  On the counter beside the stove was a spread of sandwich and salad toppings. When Haley and I had been experimenting with the Asian Chicken Baguette before she put it on her menu, she had taught me a cute mnemonic to remember the ingredients.

  Reciting it quietly as I assembled the sandwich, my mind stayed mostly on Lincoln. “We’re spending the fourth of July together. I can’t wait for it. My favorite holiday with one of my new favorite people. It’s going to be epic.”

  “I thought this wasn’t the beginning of some epic love story,” Haley teased, but there was still a film of worry covering her eyes.

  “It’s not. Or I don’t know. Maybe it is.” I caught her gaze after plating up the sandwich. “What’s bothering you?”

  Her chest expanded as she dragged in a deep breath. Then she shook her head. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

  “Of what?”

  The corners of her lips pressed in, her gaze soft but dark on mine. “I know I don’t know Lincoln, but you and I both know what those military guys care about. Women usually aren’t high on that list.”

  I opened my mouth to argue that Lincoln wasn’t like that, but I couldn’t go through with it. The truth was that I didn’t know where on his list of priorities relationships ranked—if they even ranked at all.

  Chapter 27

  Lincoln

  Children hopped from rock to smooth rock at the tide pools next to the pier. Picnic blankets and umbrellas covered nearly every inch of the beach.

  A parade had come past a few minutes ago and live music picked up again at the small beachside bar where Sofia and I had settled. There would be fireworks later, but for now, people were celebrating the red, white, and blue by having a ball on and around the boardwalk.

  Sofia’s chin rested on the bridge formed by her fingers, her elbow on the plastic table between us. She had angled herself so she was sitting more beside me than across from me; her back to the inside of the restaurant and her gaze focused on the festivities taking place on the beach.

  Carnival games had been set up a little way down, and a heated volleyball game was going on at a net set slightly off to the side in front of the beach shack housing the restaurant and bar. She hadn’t stopped smiling since we’d arrived about an hour ago.

  Dipping her head to suck at the bright blue straw sticking out of her frosted cocktail, she swallowed and sat back in her chair with a contented sigh. “I love the fourth of July. Thanks for agreeing to spend the day with me. I’ve been really excited about it.”

  She didn’t look at me, but I heard the sincerity in her voice. In the days since our fishing trip, we had kept texting multiple times a day. If I was being honest, I had been looking forward to spending more time with her.

  “Yeah, I’m happy to be here with you, too.” Shifting in my chair to be closer to her, I slung my arm over the back of hers. “What do you want to do?”

  “Stay here, have a few more drinks and something to eat. We can move to the beach before the fireworks start.” While she spoke, she slid her chair right up against mine and draped her hand casually over my thigh. “Unless there was something else you wanted to do.”

  “Nah. I’m okay with that plan.”

  As she got comfortable relaxing against my side, my fingers drifted to her shoulder and drew patterns on her warm bare skin.

  She had matched her outfit to the occasion. Wearing a red cotton dress with broad straps, blue and white ribbons around the pigtails in her short hair, and a deep blue belt cinched under her breasts, she looked sexy as fuck and adorable at the same time.

  From my new vantage point pressed up against her, every time I dropped my gaze to look at her, I caught a nice bird’s-eye view of her cleavage as well. I couldn’t complain, but it was going to make it damn hard to keep my hands to myself.

  A slight shiver passed through her as I kept up the absentminded movement of my fingers, and she glanced up at me without moving away. “Enjoying yourself?”

  “Absolutely.” I flashed her a grin. “But I kind of wish you were wearing more clothes. Just while we have to be out in public.”

  She swatted my bicep, but the shade of her cheeks colored until it almost matched her dress. “Stop it. We’re not here for that.”

  “Oh, I know. That’s why I wish you were wearing more clothes.” I dropped a kiss on top of her head and had to fight the urge to tug at a pigtail. What is it about those things that make them so damn tempting to mess with?

  “I would offer to put on the sweater I brought with me for later, but it’s way too hot for that. Sorry, but you’re going to have to suffer right along with the rest of us.”

  “Why are you suffering?” I pulled my head back to be able to see into her flecked hazel eyes.

  Just when I had a proper view of them, they rolled and she arched a brow at me. “Seriously? You’re wearing a shirt that has no sleeves, is so tight that I can just about see your abs, and those shorts don’t make much of a secret of your… bulge, either.”

  “My bulge?” I laughed, nudging her with my shoulder. “So that’s what you’re into then, huh? My arms, my tummy and my bulge?”

  She scoffed, but amusement sparkled in her eyes. “What you have is not a tummy. Normal people have stomachs or tummies. You have motherfucking abs.”

  “Motherfucking abs. I like that.” A smirk tugged at the outer edges of my lips. “But I object to not being a normal person. I’m just as no
rmal as anyone else.”

  “So not at all?” she teased but then straightened up to brush a kiss to the underside of my jaw. “Let me clarify then. You’re built like freaking Iron Man, not a normal man. On the inside, you’re no different from the rest of us.”

  “Thank you.” I began drawing my patterns again. “For the record, I’m pretty sure Iron Man’s suit is what makes him built.”

  “Probably,” she agreed. “To answer your original question, I’m not into your arms, abs, or your bulge. Believe it or not, I’m into you. Like the whole package.”

  “So it’s all about the package then?” I joked because I needed a second to process that she’d admitted to being into me. It was closer than we’d ever been to talking about feelings, which wasn’t a conversation I was usually okay with.

  Strangely, hearing it from her made weird shit happen in my chest, but it didn’t trigger the urge to get the fuck out of there.

  Sofia laughed and poked me in the ribs. “I’m not talking about your package as a synonym for the bulge, but you already know that.”

  “Yeah,” I said, bringing my arm forward on the back of the chair so it was almost completely draped around her instead. “I’m into you, too.”

  “Good.” She flashed me a wide smile before hiding it by tucking her head into my shoulder. “Now that we’ve established that, can we go back to talking about what you want to do later?”

  As she turned into my side, she slid her arm up and around my stomach. Her voice was muffled by my shirt, but I didn’t try to pry her out. I liked having her tucked into me like this.

  Tightening my grip on her shoulders and pressing yet another kiss to the top of her head—because I seemed powerless to stop myself from doing it—I returned her semi-hug. “Do you want to go play some of the carnival games later? I saw they had bowling and human ring toss. It could be fun trying it out.”

  “Yeah, that does sound like fun.” When she moved her head to face the boardwalk again, she kept the rest of her body tucked against mine. “I’m really good at balloon darts. There’s a bin at each booth where you can donate your prize to a local charity. I’d like to donate at least three, but balloon darts is probably the only game I’m good enough at.”