“Guess the SEAL training sunk in after all.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Thane took a step toward Harper. “Where’s Faron?”
“Never mind him. I’ve got a score to settle with you, motherfucker.”
Thane stared at Harper in disbelief. “You psycho prick. Put down the weapon.”
Pat could taste the tension in the air. Harper wasn’t that crazy. Kill one of his own? Before he realized what he was doing, Pat raised his weapon and aimed it at Harper.
“If I let you tell anyone about the fires in San Diego, my career is over. Even a shadow of a doubt on my record will mean I’m finished as a SEAL.”
Aw shit. Pat’s finger slid past the guard and over the trigger.
Thane’s head lowered, waiting for Harper’s next move. “You were at St. George’s. You could have been at the Haunted House. You sick, fucker. You’ve been torching San Diego.”
Pat let out an even breath, his finger hot on the trigger, Harper in his site. Thane wasn’t making this any easier.
Harper was so close to Thane it would be a kill shot.
Harper lowered his head by an inch, taking aim. “Every time I turn around, you’re there. I’m not going to let you end my career. I deserve this.”
Pat’s aim steadied. One eye closed. He also had a kill shot. “Stop, Harper. Put down the weapon,” he ordered.
A slow smile covered Harper’s expression as he gripped his weapon tighter. “Two birds. One stone. I got nothing to lose anymore,” he muttered as his finger squeezed the trigger.
Pat had no choice. Marg was wrong, he’d lose his career. He’d lose everything, but he couldn’t lose the man who loved him like a brother.
Two shots rang out.
Pat lowered his weapon, expecting to see Thane fall to the ground. Instead, Kit Harper wavered a moment and then dropped face first onto the spongy ground.
Brow creased tight, hands held in a gesture for Kit to stop, Thane stood in utter shock. Across the clearing, Lt. Redding stepped out of the thick jungle, as did Pat. The only sound that punctuated the night was the squawk of a Macaw.
All three of them stared at Harper’s still figure, and then Lt. Redding, Thane Austen and Patrick Cobbs wordlessly stared at each other.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Marg and Lydia sat quietly, watching the rest of the report from the correspondent on the news. When she’d finished her story, Lydia muted the volume. As if she’d known exactly what would happen next, Lydia turned her attention toward the phone.
And then the phone rang.
Marg jumped with the shrill tone punctuating the moment while fate spun. She almost heard the tick, tick, tick as the tag flapped against the cogs on a wheel, slowing it down to finally settle on one peg like the game at a country fair.
Lydia gripped the arm rests of the chair and pushed to her feet. Her expression morphed into purposeful determination as she crossed the room.
“Hello,” Lydia answered.
Marg’s pulse beat in her throat. She wanted to run, but couldn’t. What would she be running from? It was just a phone call. Could be anyone.
Lydia’s head bowed. “Sheila, are you with her now?”
Marg stood up on shaky legs.
“We’ll be right over. Yes, ten minutes.” Lydia hung up the phone, and then turned her gaze to Marg. “Alyssa Harper. Her son is dead.” She paused. “Only one fatality reported. You don’t have to come, but I know her quite well. She’s helped out at the mission. Two of her sons are SEALs.”
Marg stared blankly. “Which one?”
“Kit.”
Marg swallowed thickly, then picked up her purse from the dining table. “I’m coming.”
As they drove to Alyssa’s house, Lydia filled her in. Kit’s older brother was on a mission as well, but he belonged to Team Three. Divorced, Alyssa’s husband had become a raving drunk in the latter part of their marriage and she’d left him, raising both boys on her own. Kit was eight years younger than his brother. Lydia slowed down and pulled the car into an empty spot in front of a modest home.
“I’m afraid,” Marg admitted and darted a glance at Lydia before she opened the car door. “As much as I didn’t like Kit, I can’t imagine what his mother is going through.”
“I know.” Lydia placed a warm hand over Marg’s. “This isn’t going to be easy. It never is, Marg.”
“How many times have you done this?”
“Nine,” she said, barely loud enough to hear.
Marg followed Lydia to the front door. She tried to emulate the calm and confidence of her friend. Again, she felt like running, but Alyssa needed every ounce of support Marg and the other women could give. Do whatever she could to help this woman who she didn’t know yet, but was about to share the worst moments of her life with. And later tonight, Marg knew she needed to get down on her knees and give thanks to God that the caller had not said it was Patrick.
* * * *
Five days later, Marg stood beside Lydia and several other men and women at the gravesite of Kit Harper. She watched the ceremony. She cried for Alyssa, who loved her son so much she could barely breathe. Surrounded by uniforms and civilians in black attire, Marg listened to the words of the pastor. She watched the flag folded with the utmost care, and the officer who placed it in Alyssa’s hands.
This was the gut-wrenching truth for those who fought for the United States of America.
But it wasn’t until the hallowed notes of Taps filled the silence that Marg’s skin seemed to shrivel and her soul grew cold with fear. Could she do this? Could she be strong enough to not crack into a million pieces if Patrick were in that coffin?
She watched as the SEALs, officers and enlisted, pounded their Tridents into the wood of the coffin in respect of a fellow warrior. Kit had not graduated as a SEAL, but he had their respect.
Over the past week, Marg became very close with the other women who had cloistered around Alyssa to support her. They helped Alyssa arrange the funeral. Drove her to the mortuary. Sat beside her when she chose her son’s coffin and opted for a military funeral. She was never left alone. A rule created by team wives and girlfriends if one of their own lost a loved one. Alyssa would become a Gold Star mother.
Alyssa had decided to hold the wake in her home, which was located on the outskirts of San Diego. There was little breathing room that Friday afternoon with all the service personnel and their significant others stopping by to share memories and condolences. Marg spent most of the time in the kitchen, brewing coffee, cleaning dishes and setting out food that everyone had brought.
She was one of the last to leave. Alyssa was a wreck after losing her son, but she also had Kit’s brother. For those who came, she kept a brave face and concentrated on hosting her son’s wake until only a handful of people were left.
Marg had just hung the dish towel when Alyssa walked into the kitchen and gripped the counter, and that’s when it all came out. Instinct took over, and Marg simply wrapped her arms around her and let her cry until Kit’s brother walked in and took Alyssa to his chest. He nodded his thanks, and Marg left a mother and a brother to grieve.
* * * *
Six months passed. Spring arrived, and Marg didn’t have to pack a suitcase. Her shoot with Fidal Extraordinaire, scheduled for today, had her on edge.
Nervous as hell, she clutched a day bag with some granola bars and headed out for La Jolla. Pulling into a spot at a convenience store, she slid the car into park and closed her eyes for a moment. Why did she feel like she was only going through the motions of life without it meaning much?
Water. She needed water.
At the back of the store, bent over, reaching for the coldest bottles in the cooler, she heard, “I’d recognize that ass anywhere.”
She twirled around to look up into Thane’s eyes. “You’re home!”
He stared at her. The cocky smile he always offer—nowhere to be found. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
He kept her i
n an all-consuming hug and didn’t seem to want to let go until she gently extracted herself. “Thane, what happened to you?”
“Battered to hell, but I’m good.” He paused and then glanced at her from beneath his brow.
“What happened to your face?” She slid a hand against his jaw. An angry scar ran from beneath his eye down his jaw and ended on his chin. “Who did this?”
“Ran into a big bastard who taught me a lesson.” He backed up a step and cocked his head. “Think the girls will care?”
She laughed. “Doubt it.” She held her breath. Not wanting to ask, but Thane read her mind.
“We made it.”
She covered her face with both hands and let out a breath of anxiousness she’d been holding for six months. “I’m happy. For both of you.”
“Hey, why don’t you come to the ceremony? We’re receiving our Trident’s this Friday. It’s going to be at the base. One o’clock.”
“Maybe, I mean, I’ll see…I’ll—”
Thane swung his head as if debating whether to say something. “He needs you, Marg. Now, more than ever. He never forgot about you. Not for a second.”
“He wasn’t hurt, was he?” Her heart split apart all over again.
Thane paused. “We were all hurt at some point or another, but he kicked my ass when I needed it and I did the same for him.” He bowed his head. “I did as you asked, and I watched his butt even though he hated mine for about three months.”
She nodded, glad to hear their friendship remained solid. “And Kit? What happened? No one is saying much except he died during a mission.”
A shadow covered his features. Instead of telling her anything about what ended Kit’s life, he said, “Pat needed to finish this. To get his Trident. We all did. We’re both staying with Alpha Squad. Least for now. It’s based here in Diego. You need to be there on Friday.”
So it began, Marg thought to herself. Lydia had told her that most times the guys couldn’t share anything about their missions. Most of it deemed National Security. All the wives and girlfriends could do is give the men a safe place to land when they came home.
As Marg stared into his polar ice colored eyes, there was something different about Thane. He seemed harder somehow. Something dark wavered around him when he spoke. It saddened her, as if his innocence had been taken. “Your probation is finished?”
“Team guys were tough on us, probably because of me and my mouth, but we both got our peer reviews and we’re in. We’ll be around for a while. Don’t know when our next mission is, but right now, what Patrick needs is you.”
She knew what Thane was doing. His loyalty to Patrick was infinite. He wanted his friend happy and he wanted to make amends.
“Thane, I appreciate what you’re doing, but if Patrick wanted me there, he’d ask me himself. He knows my number, he hasn’t called. He’ll never call.” She cradled the water in her arms. “I’m going to be late. I better go. Congratulations.”
She side-stepped and headed for the front of the store. Two large hands gripped the edge beside her when she placed the bottles on the counter to pay for them.
“He’s not staying away because of us. He’s staying away because he thinks he’s doing you a favor. Don’t accept the favor.”
She scrounged around in her wallet for loose change and handed it to the clerk. “That’s not the way it works, Thane. I’m not a Frog Hog. I’m not chasing Patrick.”
“Where did you hear that term?”
“Frog Hogs? I know about them. I don’t chase men, that’s just slutty.”
“You’re right there, but maybe he’d feel more at home if you were.” She blushed and turned her back on him. Thane kept step and opened the door for her.
“Why do you care so much?” Thane took the bottles of water from her while she dug in her purse for her key.
“Because guys talk just like girls.”
Marg became motionless, afraid to move in case Thane clammed up. “About what?”
“That it took nerves of steel and universal willpower to stop himself from making love to you every time he saw you. He wanted you like no other woman he’d ever met. Growing up in his part of town, girls opened their legs any time a guy wanted them to. He couldn’t treat you like one of them.”
Marg waited.
“Remember the night we spent together?”
“Don’t remind me.”
“I’m just saying no man could have resisted you. The look in your eyes was like seeing wild untamed erotic heat. He needs to see that in your eyes.”
Marg sighed and leaned her butt up against the car. “I was all over the place with him. He makes me crazy.”
“You do the same to him.”
“Thane, are you making this up?”
He took a step back and lifted both hands in the air. “Honest, I’m not. We got home three days ago—and I’m going to be blunt here.”
“Go ahead.”
“All we wanted to do is fuck our brains out. We were going to head into town, looking for some fun. Pat didn’t come. No matter how much I talked, he didn’t want to put himself in that position, and I know it was because of you. I even put the phone in his hand and told him to call you.”
“But he didn’t.”
“No, I think his mom isn’t doing very well.”
Marg crossed her arms. “I see her three times a week, Thane.”
“How much time do you think she has?” he asked, his face a mask of concern.
For the last three visits, Karen had asked Marg to accompany her to speak with the doctor. She knew exactly how much time Karen had left. “There were some hard days six months ago, but as of the last visit to the oncologist, which was two weeks ago, he shared some good news. Karen’s in remission.”
“Holy shit, that’s great news.”
She smiled. “Pat’s father has come around a few times. Karen kicked his ass out the door because he’d been drunk and slobbering apologies he didn’t mean at first. The woman he left Karen for kicked him out. After that, he stayed at a friend’s place. Think he owns a bar in town.” Marg shrugged. “Anyway, last month he came around again, but this time he was stone cold sober.”
Thane’s brows popped up. “Pat’s dad? You sure?”
“Oh, yes. He’s living in a residence that offers help to alcoholics. He’s been sober for fifty days straight. With private counseling sessions, he’s been able to abstain and has a support group, too.”
“You think Karen will let him come home?”
“Maybe. In time. He’ll have to finish his program first and part of that is apologizing to those he’s hurt.”
He paused. “I need to apologize, too.”
“For what?”
“I’m going to sound like a conceded dick here, but I can’t help it if women throw themselves at me.”
Marg’s temper sprang into action. “I did not throw myself at you. I was standing at the bar.”
“Hey, hey, I know that. I did the seducing.”
She nodded her head sharply. Just as her self-righteousness bloomed, she realized she was just as much to blame. “It wasn’t like you had to do much convincing. I’ll admit that.”
They stared at each other until Thane broke the silence. “Years from now, I’m going to yank on his chain over this, but right now he’s too sensitive about what happened between us. Sometimes, he looks like he wants to kill me, that’s how I know how much he loves you. Don’t give up on him. Come to the ceremony.”
Marg opened the door to her car. “I’ll think about it.”
“We’re celebrating after at the new place.”
“What new place?”
“Somebody bought the property where St. George’s sat and built a new bar. Opening night is this Friday. It looks like it’s going to be our new hang out.”
“I did see something going up. I didn’t pay attention.”
“It’s called Breakers. Word is, it’s a retired SEAL who owns it.”
“Hey, do me a
favor.” Marg slid behind the wheel. “Don’t tell Patrick you saw me.”
Thane’s brow wrinkled. “Why?”
“I spent six months trying to bury myself in my work and forget about him. I didn’t succeed, but I’m not sure I could handle a cold shoulder from him.”
Thane closed her door and leaned on the edge. “You won’t have to.”
“I really don’t want to find out.”
Changing gears, he said, “How’s the modeling going? Saw your cover on American Sweetheart. Pretty hot.” He broke into a wolf grin.
Her heart lightened immediately. Maybe Thane, the real Thane was still safe somewhere inside him. Twisting the key in the ignition, she said, “Did Patrick see it?”
“Yup. Made him jealous as hell, especially when Harper mentioned the guy in the pictures looked like Pat.”
There was something in Thane’s voice when he mentioned Harper’s name that made her pause. “Thane, how did Kit die?”
Thane jerked his gaze from hers. After too long of a pause, he said, “Quickly.”
Marg’s heart sped up. She placed her hand over his. “You’re hiding something from me. Lydia warned me that I shouldn’t ask questions, but I know Kit did not receive an honorable discharge.”
Thane let out a deep, slow breath. “No, he didn’t.” His gaze hardened. “And that’s all the discussion we’re having on the topic.”
She swallowed heavily and nodded. “I better go.”
Thane stepped back. “Did you pick that male model in the cover shoot?”
She nibbled on her lip. “I had a say in the matter, if that’s what you’re asking.”
They both paused for a moment.
“Are you seeing him?”
Marg bowed her head. “We went out, yes. Twice actually.”
“But?”
She shook her head. “I gotta go, Thane. I’m late for the shoot.”
“’kay. See you on Friday.”
She rolled her eyes and backed out of the spot.
* * * *
The flag snapped in the wind as ten men lined up for a picture in front of the Naval Special Warfare center at NAB Coronado. During the ceremony, Marg sat in the last set of chairs and watched as they pinned the Tridents on Petty Officer Thane Austen and Petty Officer Patrick Edward Cobbs. She’d spotted Karen Cobbs, her husband and Chalise sitting a few rows ahead. Thane’s parents and family sat beside them. Patrick never smiled when they pinned the Budweiser on his uniform. His stoic, handsome expression never cracked.
Code Name: Forever & Ever (A Warrior's Challenge series Book 5) Page 33