And then he walked out of the room before he changed his mind and made things more complicated.
“Does anyone in this mismatched, ragtag group even know how to tell the truth?”
Rhyder snagged a piece of bacon from the plate in the center of the kitchen table as he dropped into a chair. Arching an eyebrow, he chewed slowly while studying his brother. “I really hope that was a rhetorical question, Zeke.”
Zeke Galvin shook his head. “It’s not.”
“I was afraid of that,” Brennan Tiern said from his place at the counter.
“You do realize, you are posing that question to a room full of law enforcement, government, and military personnel with some of the highest security clearances known to man, right?” Andre Tiern asked from beside his twin, pouring a cup of coffee.
“We couldn’t tell the truth most of the time, even if we wanted to,” Nile Galvin pointed out as he walked into the kitchen.
Karmichael Miler dropped into a chair beside his best friend, Rhyder, tossing his cell phone onto the table. “Who are you kidding, Galvin? We were lying and keeping secrets from one another before puberty hit.”
“Kid has got a point,” Jarrett Galvin added from the window seat behind the table. “Most of us grew up together or are related in some way. No one here has been involved with the group for less than a decade.”
“I personally feel some things are better left unknown,” Zeke added around a mouthful of eggs.
Amen to that.
“I second that,” D called out in agreement.
“I’ll drink to that.” Danick held his glass of orange juice in the air.
“Here, here!” the rest exclaimed, holding up their own glasses.
The room burst into much needed laughter as they all tossed back what was in their cups. All it took to clear the tension in the air was an impromptu morning toast to their mutual dislike of this little truth exercise.
The room suddenly got quiet. D was pretty sure he could hear a pin drop in the bathroom upstairs. Were those crickets chirping in the background?
He looked up from his food and groaned. This silence every time they were in the same room together was going to get old fast. Not to mention it was going to make an already awkward situation a hell of a lot more awkward than it already was.
Shanna stopped in the entrance to the huge kitchen, her emerald green eyes meeting his blue ones. He watched as a silent war waged inside her. He watched a whole myriad of emotions cross her face.
He knew she was able to read the question in his eyes, but when surprise crossed her tight features, he also knew that she had also read the pain and sympathy.
Oh, yeah.
Today was going to be a riot.
CHAPTER 8
Marquell sat in the old, worn out black rocking chair out on the back patio, his head in his hands. He looked like hell. Whomever had been on the other end of that phone call he’d just answered, hadn’t given the man good news. That much was crystal clear. He looked like his whole world had just imploded on him.
“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me she didn’t pull the same bullshit with me that she did with D,” he begged, scrubbing a hand over his head. He sat up straighter in the chair. “Please tell me I’m nowhere in the ballpark of being right.”
Carter Tiern sighed. He really wished he could tell him that. The man had given up a lot to help out his idiotic baby brother. He was stuck in between a rock and a hard place with Shanna because he had rescued D and brought him home.
A man could only deal with so much before he exploded. And this was the kind of thing that could destroy a man.
Sometimes, though, it was just time for the lies to end.
Shanna may have had valid reasons for not telling him, but they were all here to find out the truth. They all agreed the whole story needed to come out. It was the only way for anything to get resolved and the threat to be diminished.
Everyone needed to be armed with the truth and nothing but the truth if anyone was going to survive the final showdown that was looming in the near future.
As much as Carter wanted to lie, lying wasn’t going to solve his friend’s problem. The man had been lied to enough to last anyone ten lifetimes, in the name of duty alone.
Some things just couldn’t wait until later to be released from their prison of lies.
Carter leaned back in his chair. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re right. I’m sorry man.”
“Well…that certainly—um, well, puts things into a whole new perspective. Why didn’t anyone tell me? I had a right to know.”
Carter pulled off his black Raiders cap and ran a hand over his shaved black hair. He studied the sky, not able to look his friend in the eyes.
For the first time in his life, he was at a complete loss of words. He truly didn’t have an answer for him. It was a damn good question.
“Well, you were kind of busy saving my brother’s ass and needed to stay focused on the mission to keep both of you alive,” he finally answered. “It wasn’t like you were in a position to come back and deal with this.”
Marquell opened his mouth to reply, but closed it quickly when the sliding glass door slid open and Shanna stepped out onto the patio.
And…
They hit the deck.
Crack!
Okay. This was already getting old. “Son of a mother—”
Shanna bit back the rest of the oath as she placed a hand on her side, pressing on the wound as warm blood flowed steadily over her fingers.
Luckily, once again, the bullet had just grazed her. This time it had hit her under her ribcage, on her right side, leaving a long jagged gash. It added to the multitude of scars in that area.
She swallowed hard. Her side hurt like a bitch. Forcing herself up off the cement patio, she dove through the sliding glass door into the den, landing on her left shoulder.
She swore violently and creatively as white-hot pain shot down her arm as her shoulder slid out of the socket for the second time in forty-eight hours. So much for it being safe enough to take a break from the sling.
Marquell and Carter were right behind her, slamming the glass door shut. They locked it and shut the vertical blinds.
“How the hell did they find us?” Carter demanded.
D picked her up off the floor and carried her towards the basement stairs. Everyone else had already headed for cover in the basement.
“I don’t know,” Marquell answered.
“Fucking figures,” Carter mumbled as he and Marquell pushed past them to alert the guys downstairs she was injured.
Again.
“Put me down, Tiern. I can walk.” Her vision swam. “Maybe.”
“You’ll get over it. I’ll put you down when we get to the couch.”
“Stubborn, overbearing…” she let the sentence trail off as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
“Who? You or me?”
She shot him a look that told him she wasn’t the least bit amused. “Ha. Funny guy.” She moaned in pain. “Okay, obviously someone wants me dead. Care to enlighten me or do I have to make an educated guess?”
“You know the answer, so why ask?”
“I was afraid of that.” In a moment of weakness, she laid her head on his shoulder. “If he wanted me dead, we both know he wouldn’t have aimed for my side and a potential miss. And he doesn’t miss twice in forty-right hours.”
“True on both accounts.”
“So something else is going on.”
“That’s a distinct possibility.”
She lifted her head off his shoulder as he started to descend the stairs carefully, as not to jar her more than necessary. “But you’re not going to tell me.”
“And give the woman a gold star. You know me so well.”
“I hate you.”
“Now, there’s a surprise.”
“You know, it really is a wonder that so many people want you dead.”
He grinned down at her, the lighthea
rtedness not reaching his eyes. “Including you.”
She passed out before she could answer.
Virginia Beach, VA
Two years ago
“It’s way too early to early to be seeing The Ghost of Sailor’s Past.”
Rhyder stumbled into his kitchen, eyes red rimmed with dark black circles under them, and everything blurry. He sniffed the air like a blood hound on the hunt and zeroed in on the automatic coffee maker with the nectar of the gods sitting in the clear glass pot.
He headed directly for it, drool sliding out of the side of his mouth. He pulled his favorite blue mug out of the white plastic strainer beside the stainless steel sink and poured himself a nice, steaming hot cup of his life force.
He purred like a contented cat as the hot liquid seared its way down his throat, warming up his insides and kick starting his sleep deprived brain. He focused on the green lights on his black microwave, swearing rather impressively for only having an hour of sleep under his belt.
He focused on the two intruders sitting calmly in his kitchen like they belonged there. “You better have a damn good reason for dragging my ass out bed at three in the morning. I just literally climbed into said bed not even an hour ago.” He finished off the cup of pure caffeine. “And while you’re at it, you can also explain why there is a ghost sitting at my breakfast bar, drinking my coffee, grinning at me like the cat that just ate the canary.”
Danick smiled, finishing off his own coffee. He sat at the small kitchen table tucked into the back corner of the kitchen. He kicked his feet up onto the empty chair in front of him and crossed his arms over his chest.
D laughed. He set his mug down on the Formica counter, turning in the wood stool to look at Rhyder.
Rhyder poured another cup and downed it in one gulp. He studied the ghost of D. His usually shave hair was now curling around his face at chin-length. He was dressed in all black.
And the bastard was grinning at him like the freaking Cheshire cat, his blue eyes bright with laughter.
Rhyder turned to his brother. “Please tell me I didn’t fall down this particular rabbit hole. Tell me there is a way out of previously mentioned rabbit hole if I did.” He paused to take a deep breath. “Hell, please, please, please tell me that he”—he pointed at D like there was actually a question as to who he was ranting about—“is a figment of my imagination brought on my lack of sleep.”
“Unfortunately,” Danick drawled, gesturing towards D, “he is not a figment of your imagination. It’s okay that you’re completely freaked out, though. When he woke me up a few hours ago, I damn near shot him.” He tipped the wooden chair back on its hind legs. “It took me awhile to realize that, sometime between falling asleep and being jerked out of a dream involving multiple naked women, I had fallen down that rabbit hole you mentioned. It took him an hour to convince me he wasn’t a nightmare my brain had cooked up.”
“And now?” Rhyder asked.
Danick met his brother’s eyes. “Now, I’m thinking I should’ve gone with my gut instinct and shot him right through his deceitful heart.”
“We’re so dead,” Rhyder groaned, leaning back against the counter.
“You see, I was kind of hoping she’d chose to kill you and take pity on me. You are her twin after all.”
Rhyder arched an eyebrow, setting the mug on the counter behind him. “Yeah, nice try, bro. You’re the older brother and his best friend since birth. It’s been nice knowing you.”
Danick raked a hand through his hair. “Damn it. I really hate when you’re right.”
D waved his hands in the air like a cheerleader on crack. “Hello! I’m sitting right here. As much as your sweet talk of me warms my heart to its core, you can talk to me.”
Rhyder scrubbed his hands over his face. “Honestly, man, I really rather you weren’t and I’d rather not. It makes you way too real, Tiern.”
“I am real.”
“I know. And, trust me when I say, that royally blows.”
“I’d rather have someone poke hot needles through my eyelids than admit to you being alive,” Danick grumbled.
D made a face. “Thanks for the visual.”
“No problem man. I live to serve,” Danick said dryly.
“Don’t get me wrong, D, I’m glad you are alive. Honest. You’ve been a part of my life since as far back as I can remember. It’s just that, you being alive puts me in a very awkward position and potentially signs my death warrant.” Rhyder smoothed a hand over his head.
D raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re overreacting just a bit and playing the role of the Drama King a little too well.”
Danick grunted. “You obviously have no recollection of my sister.”
“I remember everything about her perfectly. I think she’ll be more pissed at me. We all know she’ll try and take me out first.”
“Yeah, but if you crawled out from under whatever rock you’ve been hiding under, in whatever third world country that doesn’t have a price out on your head”—Rhyder motioned between himself and Danick, a look of horror on his face—“you’re about to make us accomplices. Which, therefore, has us choosing your side over her. Again.”
D finished off his coffee, nodding. “Good point.”
Rhyder looked at Danick. “My gun’s upstairs. It’s not too late to shoot him.”
August 2015
“We really have got to stop meeting like this.”
Shanna slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the onslaught of bright light. Her head felt like it had been run over by a train with a steel band attached to it, which had decided to hang around in her head for the after party. Her arm and side hurt something fierce. She so was not in the mood for smartass comments.
She looked around the basement den. Her arm was in a sling once again and her side was bandaged, she assumed thanks to the man grinning down at her. There was only one thing to say.
“Go to hell, Miler,” she croaked out, her throat parched.
Karmichael smiled. He turned to D, Danick, and Rhyder. “Same old Shan. She’ll live. Though, at the rate she’s dislocating that shoulder, she’s going to need surgery.”
“I think that’s the nicest greeting she’s given you in a decade and a half.”
Shanna glared at her twin, who was stretched out in his favorite brown leather recliner. “Give me a minute to convince my exhausted body its worth moving. Then I’m going to beat the crap out of you, Rhy.”
“I hate to say it, Shan, but he’s right. I remember for a while there, the only words you said to him were—and I quote—‘eat shit and die.’” Danick ducked as a pillow sailed towards his head.
She attempted to sit up. The world started to spin wildly and her stomach rolled with nausea. She tried to sit up again, slowly this time, accepting the bottle of water handed to her. She took a long swig and glared at the corpsman standing in front of her. “What the hell did you give me?”
“Something for the pain.” Noticing the skeptical look she gave him, Karmichael added, “I didn’t spend six years as a navy corpsman just so I could poison you, Corelsand. As tempting as that is, I do know what I’m doing.”
“You wouldn’t be the first corpsman to screw up,” she muttered, taking another long swallow of water. She looked at her older brother. “And, to my defense, smartass, we were in high school and that wasn’t a particularly good situation to begin with.”
“I told you not to date my best friend,” Rhyder pointed out.
She glared at her twin. Then she focused that look on D. “You seriously would’ve thought that I would have learned the first time.”
D laughed, ignoring the challenge. “If it makes you feel better, she has said a hell of a lot worse to me.” He sat down beside her on the couch.
“High school wasn’t exactly my golden years when it came to you,” she admitted, stifling a yawn as she leaned back against the cushions.
“That’s an understatement.” He touched a hand to her good arm. “On a change o
f topic, by the time we got to looking for him, Kai was long gone.”
“That’s a topic to discuss when I have more energy, access to my gun, and a chance to shoot you with it.”
D threw his hands up in exasperation. “What’s with everyone wanting to shoot me?”
Danick shrugged. “It’s got to be your charming personality man.”
Karmichael held his hands up. “Yo, don’t look at me. You really don’t want to know what I think.”
“What can we say, Tiern?” Marquell piped up. “You tend to bring out homicidal tendencies in the people who know and love you.”
“Yeah, but that’s a quality he’s always brought out in Shan, though,” Rhyder pointed out.
A throat cleared from the back of the room. “Maybe we should just start at the beginning of the story, before there’s any bloodshed,” Carter interjected. He looked directly at D and Shanna. “So, which one of you would like to start?”
Every single pair of eyes in the room stared at her. She took another swig of the ice cold water. Replacing the lid, she calmly set it back on the floor.
“Aw, hell, guys,” she grumbled. “Why am I the one that always gets screwed?”
More pairs of male eyes than Shanna cared to count stared at her, eyebrows raised, mouths twitching.
She help up a hand before any of them could answer. “Do not answer that. As a matter of fact, wipe that very rhetorical question from your dirty minds. If one of you so much as opens your mouth to breathe, I may just have to kill you, and that’s just a whole bunch of paperwork I refuse to fill out. No jury in the world would convict me, but I just don’t have the energy to chance it.”
She looked over at D. “So, do you feel like taking a stroll down memory lane with me?”
CHAPTER 9
The past has this annoying way of catching up to you. It seems to catch up to you the most in the moments you would rather leave it as ancient history. You know, something they can put in the history books and discuss for years to come without you having to deal with it directly.
Surviving Today Page 6