Maybe it’s Cat’s influence on me, really talking to a woman for probably the first time ever that’s making me look at things differently.
As she starts pulling stuff out of the fridge to make a salad, I put my head into my hands, rubbing at my temples.
“I disobeyed an order I should never have been given, I’ve told you that. The outcome being a SEAL’s life was lost, but civilians were saved.”
She stops what she’s doing and stares down at the lettuce as though inspecting it for bugs. “No one can win them all, Finn. That’s what being a nurse taught me.” Lines appear around her eyes. “Are you saying that the loss of a SEAL is worse than the loss of innocent lives?”
Probably to Uncle Sam considering the money spent training them, but in the scheme of things, the children saved were human beings. Until Nazia wasn’t anymore.
“I’m fuckin’ glad we got them out of there. Pooh shouldn’t have died, there was no reason.” Or no good one, except for Smythe panicking. “I lost my job, but at least I knew two girls were able to live their lives.” Of course, there’s only a slim chance of one of them being still alive. Marjan, too, could be dead.
“That didn’t count for anything?”
“Only to me. They were right to throw the book at me. A man who can’t obey commands can’t be trusted.”
She looks puzzled now. “But if it was the wrong command, surely there would have been mitigating circumstances?”
“I wasn’t going to point fingers, Cat.”
Another of those hard glances, followed by a shake of her head.
I continue my story. “I’d gotten back to a semi-good place. The club gave me something to live for. Until I got word something was up.”
“What?” she prompts when I go quiet.
I slam my fist on the counter. “I think the whole thing was a setup. Something was wrong, bad, about the whole mission. What or why, I don’t fuckin’ know. Four years back, I found out the older girl became a suicide bomber. They managed to take her down and disarm her before she blew up herself and a lot of US service personnel. She was killed while she was held by the military police.”
“Oh my God!” she cries out. “Why?”
“Again, I don’t fuckin’ know. The younger kid, she’d disappeared. It makes no fuckin’ sense, Cat.” She puts down her knife and comes to me. Automatically, I put my arm around her waist, holding her tight. Dropping my head, I breathe in her scent, using it to ground me. “The US troops were withdrawing, it was what the hostiles should have wanted. The area had become peaceful, so why stir it all up?”
Her head moves side by side, but not surprisingly, she has no answers for me.
“There’s more. When I was on my way home, I found my old team had been killed. All six men, Cat. Four of them I would have counted as my best friends.”
“Jer… Finn,” she gasps, looking up into my face. “Finn…” As if realising words are inadequate, her hands cup my face. “I’m so sorry.” She nibbles her lip. “Did you tell your club? Could they help you find some answers?”
I breathe out. “No. It happened in Afghanistan. The club only operates in the US. It’s down to me, babe. I’ve looked, I’ve studied everything I could find. There are no answers to the questions I can’t get out of my head. If I could go back and change things, would I choose to have Pooh alive and leave those kids to their death? Maybe, if I’d had a crystal ball, the answer would have been yes. Pooh and I might have prevented the rest of the team dying, if we’d been there.”
She takes a step back and folds her arms across her chest. “It went wrong from the beginning with the man who gave the order. Have you looked into him? Why would he have wanted those girls dead?”
“He was a coward,” I tell her. I’ve had time to think about this. “He panicked, Cat, which is the last thing someone running that kind of operation should do. The Navy must have agreed though I hadn’t said a word. He was given a desk job back in the States.” And a promotion that feels like a kick in my teeth.
“You’ve got girls rescued which lost your friend’s life, that shouldn’t have happened. A girl who tried to blow our troops up, and a kid missing. On top of that, your whole team died. Presumably they were witnesses to the girls’ rescue…”
“Say that again,” I growl.
She looks puzzled. “Except for you and the man who panicked, all who knew what happened that day are dead. If the terrorist activity was decreasing, who else would have wanted the story to have no chance of re-examination?”
“I don’t have a fuckin’ clue,” I roar with more than a touch of anger. “Who? The other men in my unit? No fuckin’ way. I’d have given my life for them all. The men on other teams? Fuck no. They’re SEALs.”
She presses her lips together. “So you returned leaving the girl missing?”
“What more could I have fuckin’ done?” Her stubborn look intensifies. “What more, Cat? I’m one man. All the SEALs I was close to were gone. I searched for Marjan, it was like she’d disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“Why?”
I frown and repeat, “Why?”
She rolls her eyes as though there’s something I’m missing. “Seven years is a long time in a kid’s life. What if she remembered something? This asshole who gave the command, he didn’t want them rescued. Why?”
I throw up my hands. “I have no fuckin’ idea.” But she’s sparked an idea off in my head. Smythe was simply a coward, wasn’t he? He’d pressed the detonator as he thought the helicopter he was in was going to be shot down. He panicked. But what if there’s more to it? I’d dismissed him. Could he have had a reason for setting off the explosion too soon?
She fully turns to face me and takes a step forward to put herself in my space. Her finger comes out and pokes me in the chest. “Who did you speak to about this? Who did you ask to help?”
“Who could I fuckin’ tell when I didn’t know who to trust?”
My words seem to echo around the kitchen.
Her finger prods me again. “You find someone, Finn. This is killing you from the inside. There must be someone who could help. Your club. Other SEALs—I have no idea how this works. There’s a young girl out there all alone because you want to do everything yourself. You scream it from the rooftops. You get her some help. If you discover the reason, you might be able to give yourself a break.”
“She’s dead, Cat,” I say, my tone softening, my eyes watering as I state what I believe is the truth. “Or will be if I make waves. I’ve got to believe that she’s gone. If not dead, it’s likely she’s been trafficked.” I hate telling her that. In her world, that sort of thing doesn’t happen. But she’s got me thinking. What if Smythe wanted her dead from the beginning and she wasn’t just collateral damage? If she knew something, or there was a chance she could remember, that’s a good reason for him wanting her to disappear.
“No.” She contradicts me. “You start searching all over again. You say you’re a computer expert. Money’s normally at the bottom of everything. Check the finances of anyone who was around. See who’s bought a house, a car, a yacht or a freaking tropical island. Money can be hidden, even I know that. You say your club are all information experts? Well, you ask them for help.”
“That easy, huh?” I shake my head. “What do you think I’ve been doing?” Except asking for help. That’s the only bit I left out. I turn away from her and start to pace. “I got sent out on my own as a nomad, representing my club but not being a true part of it. For the past three years I did everything I could to track traffickers down, following clues to see whether there was a link back to Afghanistan. The only plus is I took out some bad guys.” Of course, at least two I should have left well alone. “Every trail I could find, I went down. I got zilch.”
“Ask your club,” she repeats. “If you’ve got resources, use them.”
I snap, “You want me to go back to Utah? Sick of me already?”
Her face goes cold. “There’s a thing called
a telephone, you know. It can be useful.”
“They’d drag me back.”
“Then go.”
“Okay.” Steaks forgotten, I turn toward the stairs needing to go and pack as she no longer wants me here. “I hear you loud and clear,” I throw over my shoulder. I’d been thinking how easy it was to discuss my problems with her, but all she’d heard was that I’d been a failure.
“Get back here now, Finn Palmer!” Her voice, so full of authority, stops me dead in my tracks.
“Why?” I toss back at her.
“Because I didn’t take you for a quitter. Unless you’re giving up on us already.”
My hands form fists. I should go, leave her out of this mess. “What do you fuckin’ suggest?”
“Let’s put our heads together. Come at this from a different angle. Unless you don’t want my help?”
Someone to bounce ideas off? She might not be able to make databases reveal their secrets to her, but she’s not stupid by a long shot.
“On one condition,” I capitulate. “You might be right. If I, we, decide bringing my club in is the answer and I need to go back, I want you to come with me.”
Her eyes go huge and her mouth opens, then closes with a snap. She surprises the hell out of me when she asks, “What have I got here?”
She’d come with me?
The devil on my shoulder asks why the fuck I’d want to be tied down. Haven’t I always run from responsibility? Hell, I’ve been happier even without men around. Or have I been lying to myself?
If she comes with me, I’ll have to keep an eye on her. Could I keep her safe, let alone happy? But if she’s with me, I wouldn’t have to worry about her being alone.
Truth be told, I may not have known her long, but she’s been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Maybe it’s the way we met, and I saw her at her lowest point.
Most ladies I’ve met have been primped to the nines with full makeup on, doing everything they can to snag a biker or a SEAL of their own. Cat, well, she couldn’t have been more natural. She attracted me when she was weak, now she’s strong, she knocks my socks off.
Did she mean it? When push comes to shove, would she leave the memories here and throw in her lot with a biker who’s uncertain of his future? I have to be honest with her.
“If I go back to the club, I’m not sure of my welcome.”
She eyes me carefully. “Because you ran.”
“I did.” I think how to put it. There’s no way to sugarcoat what I’d done. “My punishment for the betrayal is a beatdown, each member of the club taking a swing at me.” I shrug off the horror in her eyes. “I deserve it, and hell, I can handle it. After that, I’ll be busted down to prospect for six months. I’ll be at their beck and call and may not have time to be the man you want.”
Her hand covers mine. “I’ll need to get a job, which shouldn’t be too difficult. My skills are needed everywhere. I need a new start, Finn. I think you’ve shown me that. I’ve been surviving, not living. I don’t want to go back to the city, there’s nothing for me there. Moving somewhere new and starting over is something I’ll need to do, whether you’re with me or not.”
I huff out a breath. “As a prospect, I might not be able to be with you, not all the time. They might want me to live at the club so I can be available at all hours.”
“I’m likely to be on shift work. If you want it to, we’ll be able to make it work.” Her eyes widen, and she giggles. It’s a lovely sound, Cat doesn’t have much to laugh about. “Hey, your reverse psychology is working. I’m now trying to convince you.”
Raising an eyebrow, I chuckle. “Good ploy, huh?” But she’s made me think. What would it be like to return to Utah with someone on my side? Me, who’s never depended on anyone.
“When do you have to make a decision?”
Growing serious, I consider her question. “Sooner rather than later. At the most, I’ve got a couple of months. There’s no immediate rush, it suits no one’s purpose if I can’t control my temper any better than when I left. Pip…” No, Pip isn’t the prez anymore, but he’ll still have influence. “Pip, I’m sure would be on my side.” But would Snatcher? He’s so recently regained the Prez patch, he might make an example of me with Drummer and whenever I return, declare me out bad, though it said in the church minutes they’re giving me time, he could have changed his mind.
“You wanted to take something back to them,” she reminds me. “If you’ve got time, why not stay here and we’ll put our heads together and come up with a plan? These things have been simmering for four years, there’s no rush to solve them now.” Her eyes soften. “You need to have answers. You’re never going to move forward unless you stop looking back.”
I chuckle again, but this time it’s without mirth. “What if I can’t?”
“I’ll help. Look, I don’t know anything about being a SEAL. I don’t know how a computer works except by turning it on and off and getting frustrated when stuff doesn’t work. But I’m a good listener, and I know what makes people tick.”
I turn away, bowing my head and rubbing at my temples. Vaguely I’m aware Cat’s resumed what she’s doing to give me some time.
Finally, I have my thoughts in order. “The backstop if I can’t come up with anything to take to the club is I could stay here. Start some sort of business.” I shrug. “If they declare me out bad, it might be option B in any event.” I raise my head, but not toward her. Instead I stare out of the window. “Two months, Cat. That’s what I think we’ve got. Let’s use them wisely.” Now I turn directly to her and wink. “I’ll give you my cock, and you give me your help.”
“That, mister,” she points a finger at me, “is a bargain I can’t turn down.”
I snort. “I’d best get those steaks grilling. Gotta feed my woman so she’s got stamina tonight.”
21
Cat…
Even before Weston reappeared in my life, I’d known I was living here on borrowed time. The ghosts had such a tight hold on me that I couldn’t see past keeping my family home. It had been built by my great-grandfather and now I was the last of the line. How could I turn my back on my heritage?
I had no choice, knew I’d have to move on eventually. Maybe I was just waiting for a man like Finn to enter my life, or at least something that would give me a proverbial kick in the ass.
I like Finn, a lot. I think I love him, though I try to tell myself it’s too early for that. Daily, I’m learning more about him.
Our relationship is already comfortable, both in and out of bed. Even if this isn’t forever, he might help me move on. Utah? I’ve never considered that state, but as I told him, a nurse could be a nurse anywhere, and all I’d need to get is a license for that state.
Finn’s broken, I’m not blind to that. A therapist would say it went back to being abandoned by his mother and never having the real support of his dad. He doesn’t trust anyone. Is it too late for him to learn?
If I abandon my home and go with him, am I setting myself up for a world of hurt? Or would it be the start of an adventure?
I may be the stupidest woman in the world, but I want to help him. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been subjected to what makes him Stormy, or maybe, I keep that side of him down.
He’s promised to help me out by making the farmhouse an attractive property to sell, and in return I’ll assist him in finding answers. While I may have doubts about my contribution, I can be a sounding board if nothing else.
It’s not as if I’m rushing into anything. I can change my mind anytime.
Finn and I have already gotten into a kind of routine, and it’s that we continue, the only difference being, we share the same bed. He does odd jobs around the farm while I sort out the horse and chickens, and start the slow process of going through all the stuff in the house. My chores take the longest, and I’m often to be found sitting staring at a photograph album or memento with tears flooding down my cheeks. More than once I’ve come back to myself with Finn�
��s arms wrapped around me. He sits silent, saying nothing at all until I lay that particular ghost to rest.
Sometimes I feel guilty. I had a childhood that I can look back on with tears now, but which I know will bring me comfort in the future. Finn has none.
Steak is surprisingly not the limit to Finn’s repertoire of food. Having fended for himself most of his life, he’s no stranger in the kitchen, and while it can’t be classed as gourmet food, it’s more than edible. Despite my fears about a biker’s misogynistic reputation, he doesn’t expect me to wait on him hand and foot.
After we’ve eaten, Finn normally settles himself at the desk where my PC is set up, opening his laptop there too. It’s then he disappears into his own world, sometimes not emerging for hours as he delves deeper into whatever database he’s exploring next.
Another month has passed, almost without me noticing. I glance up from my book, seeing Finn’s hands are raised in the air as he stretches. Standing, I cross over to him and rest my hands on his shoulders.
As I begin to give him a massage, I ask, “Getting anywhere?”
“Well, I’ve just found out that one of my old team members didn’t die.”
“What?”
He points to the screen. It shows a picture from the news of a team of six SEALs. “That’s what I saw on the news report at the time, but it must have been an old photo, and the news got its wires crossed. Gun,” he points to a photo, “well, he didn’t sign up for the last tour. There was another man who died. I’d always assumed he was dead. But Gun, or Jeffrey Morgan, is very much alive.”
“Suspicious?”
One of his hands covers mine. “I’m suspicious about everyone. But maybe in this case without basis. He’d done his time.”
“Can you track him down?”
“That’s what I’ve been doing. He’s got a job in security, but whoever he’s protecting now is classified.”
“Hidden from you?”
Now he sits forward again. “Not for long. I doubt it’s anything, but it’s worth investigating. If anything, it would be useful to talk to him. He was around when everything went down.”
Stormy's Thunder: Satan's Devils MC Utah Page 22