Chapter 5 #3
“Ouch,” Breely said.
“She left a note saying that if I wanted our marriage to work, I had to come home to South Dakota for good. Otherwise, I could sign the divorce papers.”
Breely covered her mouth with her hand, shaking her head. “The ultimatum.”
Moe nodded. “I was due to reenlist that month. She knew it. I chose to get out and follow her back home.”
Breely’s brow twisted. “But you divorced anyway?”
“I remembered how we were as teenagers—so young, in love and eager for a future together. I thought we could somehow recapture some of that.” He shook his head. “I was wrong.”
“She find someone else?”
“No. She was home, surrounded by people she knew and loved, ready to pick up where we’d left off when we graduated high school.”
“But you’d changed,” Breely whispered.
He nodded. “She was happy to be in that small town, fitting back into her same old life. I tried, but I didn’t fit in.
The skills I’d learned to become a PJ didn’t transfer to civilian jobs.
Who needed someone who could parachute into enemy-held territory, fight his way into a hardened compound, and rescue someone who might have been tortured or injured and get them out alive? ” He snorted.
Breely gave him a sad smile. “I guess there aren’t that many jobs requiring those skills.”
“Not in a town of fewer than six thousand people. My wife didn’t know what to do with me.
I had nightmares where I woke up fighting.
She had to sleep in another room. Finally, I pulled out the divorce papers, signed them and told her to have a good life.
” He looked up into Breely’s eyes. “And I left.”
“Is that when you joined the Brotherhood Protectors?” Breely asked.
“No. I wanted back in the action but didn’t want to go back into the military.
So I signed on with Stone Jacobs, another former special forces guy, who’d set up a security firm providing protection for contractors working in Afghanistan.
It was lucrative. I didn’t have anywhere to spend my money, so I was able to save it all. ”
“And that’s how you were able to afford your airplane. It must have paid really well.”
“It did,” he said. “But it came at a cost.”
Breely propped her chin in her hands. “What do you mean?”
“We were expendable. We were former military—not active duty. The US government was under no obligation to us or the contractors we worked to protect. We were basically mercenaries. Hired guns there to protect non-military personnel. When the US decided to leave Afghanistan, they pulled military personnel and government officials. Anyone else was left to fend for themselves.”
Breely’s eyes widened. “The Taliban took over even before our military were all out.”
“We had to go into hiding. Had the Taliban found us, they would have killed us.”
Breely pressed her hands to her cheeks. “How did you get out?”
“The man I was with at the tavern, Hank Patterson, sent a plane and a team to extract us.” Moe’s lips twisted. “Kind of ironic. The pararescue specialist being rescued. But, if it weren’t for Hank and his team of Brotherhood Protectors, I wouldn’t be here today.”
“And now you work for him.” Breely smiled. “Doing what you do best. Helping others.”
“That’s the idea.” Moe motioned for the waitress. “Now that you know my life history, what do you say we check out a comedy or jazz club?”
Breely nodded. “Yes, please. But I’m paying for dinner.”
The waitress brought the check. Breely counted out wads of bills she’d earned in tips until she had enough to pay the bill and leave a nice tip.
Moe didn’t try to stop her, even though he figured she’d spent most of her cash. The woman was stubborn to a fault. Still, he wouldn’t let her go hungry or sleep on the streets.
They left the Irish pub and made their way down the street to a comedy club. The place was packed to the point no one else was allowed to enter until some came out.
They continued past a jazz club with the same story.
“If it’s all the same to you,” Breely said. “My feet hurt, and I’m tired. Could we go back to the room?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “I was just trying to give you a taste of the city.”
“And you have.” Breely slipped her hand into his and leaned against his shoulder. “I loved the Irish pub, the food and walking along the city streets. And thank you for letting me get to know you better.”
Moe held her hand all the way back to the hotel and didn’t let go until they crossed the threshold into the room.
At that point, he thought it best to sever the connection. He had promised not to touch her unless she asked him nicely.
They hadn’t known each other long enough to take anything to the next level. He wouldn’t push it. It wasn’t his style. Women came to him willingly.
His gaze followed Breely as she made her way to the window.
He found himself wishing they’d known each other longer and that she would ask him to make love to her.
The chances of that happening were slim to none.
No matter how much he tried to reason with himself, the devil in the back of his mind was banking on the long shot.