37. Paige
There is one place I go when everything feels off. When nothing makes sense.
Not a place literally. To Brian. Home .
When I texted Gina about my bench-chat with Rob yesterday, I also told her I needed to cancel our brunch plans for today because I desperately needed some brotherly love. She texted back right away, saying no need to cancel and that she’d tag along.
Then she texted me four times in rapid succession, then called me, to make sure the new plan worked. Then she made me go over the naval base visitor dress code rules with her.
Then, this morning, she was actually ready on time. When I pulled up outside her apartment, I was about to text her that I’d go grab us lattes while I waited the usual twenty minutes for her, but she was already standing on the curb, holding our drinks.
Now, we’re here, on base, being driven by two sailors to the field where they said Brian is training some of the newer recruits.
“Here you go, ma’am, ma’am.” The driver tips his head toward me and toward Gina. “Lieutenant Commander McAfee is over there.” The Jeep pulls onto the grass.
I see my brother in all his uniformed glory, talking to a group of sailors. His back is to us.
“Would you like us to wait for you, ma’am?”
“We told you, it’s Paige and Gina.”
He smiles wide. “Yes, ma’am.” No way he’s calling us by our names. These guys are absolutely adorable.
“Brian will get us back to the gate.” We climb out of the Jeep. “Thanks, Jordan. Thanks, Bobby.”
“No problem. We’ll wait here anyway, in case you change your mind about that ride back.”
Gina isn’t recklessly flirting with them. She’s on her best behavior. Pretty sure it’s because of my brother. She’s a docile little kitten around Bri, not her usual stir-the-pot self. I swear she has a thing for him even though she won’t admit it.
I don’t shout his name to get his attention as we approach since we’re not really supposed to be back here. He’s told me that before. Top-secret stuff happening, though honestly it looks like they’re just standing around playing with their guns. I’d sneak up behind him and cover his eyes and make him guess who, but he’s holding a firearm, so I know better.
Before we get within ten feet, four of the dozen or so guys he’s talking to snap to attention like synchronized swimmers and salute Gina and me.
Brian looks over his shoulder, confusion instantly melting into a smile. Then he turns back to his guys. “Why are you saluting civilians, Marshall?” He’s using his big Navy voice.
“I, uh. . .” The poor kid swallows hard, lowers his arm. “Sir, I, uh. . . uh. . .”
He shakes his head. “Sanchez, why did you salute civilians?”
“Sir, it seemed appropriate, sir.”
“It ‘seemed appropriate, sir’? Why did it seem appropriate?”
“Uh. . . I. . .”
“Is my baby sister in uniform, Sanchez?” The sudden panic on all the guys’ faces is clear.
“Sir, no, sir.”
“Is her friend an officer?”
“Sir, no, sir.”
“Do you—”
“Hey.” I put my hand on Brian’s arm. “Give them a break. They were just being polite.”
He shakes his head at me, as he’s done since we were little. But he also can’t really say no to me. Never could. “Marshall, Sanchez, Jones, McGee—three miles. Now . Make ’em fast or do ’em again. The rest of you, at ease.”
They all bark in unison, “Sir, yes, sir.” The four that saluted us take off on a jog.
“Walk with me.” Brian motions to the left with his head. He holsters his gun, and we start walking. “Do you really think those guys were just being polite, or are you fucking with me?”
“All the guys here are very polite.” I motion over to the Jeep. “Jordan and Bobby drove us all the way out here so we wouldn’t get lost.”
“You know you’re not allowed back here, right?”
I shrug. “Yeah, but I told them you were probably really busy and it would be better if we came to you instead of you coming to us.”
Brian’s eyes pop out of his head. “And that’s it? That’s all it took? They escorted you onto secure training grounds where there’s live ammo present and in use because you said it ‘would be better’?”
“And she said ‘pretty please,’” Gina chimes in while staring at the ground.
I nod aggressively and with a big smile. I can tell this is annoying Bri, so I’m loving it.
“Stay here a minute.” Brian strides over to the Jeep and starts barking at the guys. A minute later, they get out and start jogging the same path as the first four.
Brian shakes his head as he walks back, muttering something about national security and protocol and busy schedules, but stops when he gets to us. “Come here.” He squeezes me in a big hug, lifting me a few inches before he puts me down. He’s wearing the same cologne as always, the same cologne our dad wears too. All the tension eases out of my body as he puts me down.
“Don’t I get a hello?” Gina’s biting her lip, finally looking up at him.
He stares at her for a long minute, his nostrils slightly flaring. He leans in and kisses her on the cheek, lingering a few long seconds. “Hello, Gina.”
“Hello, Commander.” She’s totally blushing. I am so going to give her crap on the drive home.
After a long minute, Brian turns back to me. “Why are you here?”
“Can’t we just come visit?”
“No. Talk to me.”
I shrug. “There isn’t really anything to talk about.”
“There some guy I need to hurt?”
Brian was a senior when I was a freshman in high school. Any guy even looked at me, and Brian would get up in the kid’s face. He was already six-foot-two by then and on the football team, so one look from him and most guys ran for the hills. It wasn’t until he enlisted and shipped out that I could actually hang out with guys without them being too nervous to make a move.
“No. I just. . . I don’t know.”
Gina jumps in. “We wanted a guy’s advice. A guy who would give us honest answers.”
He tilts his head a little, suspicious. “Okay, shoot.”
“Oh, speaking of shooting,” Gina bats her eyelashes. “Since we’re here, can you teach me how to fire a gun?”
“No.”
She takes a step closer to him. “Can I at least hold it?”
“You want to hold my gun?”
She nods.
“No, Gina, you can’t hold my gun.”
She bites her lip and looks at him through heavy lashes. “Can I touch it?”
Brian’s nostrils flare. “Gina.” His voice is husky, scolding.
“Please may I, Commander?”
Gina slowly reaches for Brian’s holster. She rests her fingers on the fabric strap securing the gun. She pauses, waits. She starts to open the top strap.
Brian grabs hold of Gina’s wrist. He doesn’t let go, but he doesn’t actually move her hand away either.
He turns to me, still grasping Gina’s wrist in place. “What do you need honest answers about?”
I wait for Gina to answer him. She was supposed to ask this part. That was our plan on the drive out here so Bri wouldn’t freak out and try to track Damiano down. But now she’s in a trance, eyes fixed on where Brian is gripping her wrist.
“So. . .”
“Spit it out.”
“So, I’m asking. . . for a friend. She’s not sure about this guy she likes and she doesn’t know what to do.”
“A friend, huh? And this friend —does she actually think she’s found someone good enough for her?” He glares at Gina. Gina, whose wrist he’s still clutching, maybe pulling a little closer to him. Gina, who’s still in a complete trance.
“I mean, sort of. She’s found this guy who treats her great and is gorgeous and makes a good living and she really wants to be with him. But—”
Brian drops Gina’s wrist like he touched a hot pan.
Shit . He thinks I’m asking for Gina.
She realizes it too. “Paige has other friends. You know that, right?”
He folds his arms across his chest, his stance wide. “Does she though?”
“Ouch. Don’t be a jerk. Maybe if the Navy didn’t move us around every few years when we were little, I’d have a whole gaggle of besties.”
Brian’s expression softens and he gives me his ‘I’m sorry’ look. He knows I’m sensitive about how much we moved. How it meant my friendships were always temporary. How it meant we couldn’t have a dog or a cat or even a fish because we never knew when we were going to move again. Even when we moved back to San Diego when I was twelve, we didn’t know then that would be a permanent assignment for Dad.
“You’re right, there’s no other friend,” Gina says. “What Paige really needs to know is. . . why is it okay for you to kill people?”
“ What ?” Brian asks and I yelp at the same time. I really didn’t want to get into what Damiano does. Also, wow, Gina really doesn’t want Brian to think she’s dating someone.
“That’s a fucking pivot.” He looks at her like she has two heads.
But she doesn’t stop. “ You kill people. You train all these guys to kill people.” Gina points to guys on the field behind us.
Some of them seem to think she’s waving, and they smile and wave back. Brian scowls at them and draws a little circle in the air with his finger. The two who waved take off on a jog.
Gina continues, “The entire purpose of the military is to kill people. Why is all that okay?”
He turns to me. “That’s not the purpose of the military at all. You know that, P. We use the threat of force to keep people safe. Sometimes, we have to show force so that the next asshole country that wants to hurt someone knows what they’re up against. Fewer people die because of us.”
“I wouldn’t mind a show of force,” Gina whispers under her breath.
Brian turns to her, takes a step closer. “Is there some guy or not?”
I know he’s asking her , I know there’s something trying to brew between them. For all our sake, I’ll come clean on this, that this is about me. “ I was sort of seeing someone.”
He looks relieved, which tells me just how into Gina he is, since finding out that I’m seeing someone always makes him tense up. When I told him that Tom and I were getting an apartment together, Brian had one of his former SEAL buddies who’s now in private security run a background check on the guy. Then Brian and two of his friends made a point of helping move my boxes, shouting at Tom to pick up the pace when he was in front of them carrying one box and they were behind him carrying two or three each.
That was the day I met Gina, actually. She was walking by and saw three shirtless guys and one Tom carrying boxes. When she realized they were with me, she decided we were best friends now.
“What does this guy do for a living?” This is always Brian’s and my dad’s first question. It’s exactly why I didn’t want to bring Damiano up.
“You mean, like, for a job?”
“He better fucking have a job.”
I don’t want to get into that. I was avoiding it on purpose. Ergo the ‘asking for a friend’ thing.
I smile to myself for using ‘ergo’ in my stream of consciousness.
“He used to be GOI or GIO. I forget which way that goes.”
“G O I? As in Italy’s special forces?”
I nod.
He looks impressed, nods. “They’re like the SEALs, but worried about getting mud on their boots.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Sounds like he’s a huge fucking improvement over that pansy-ass Tom.”
“Yeah, but. . .”
“But what? Don’t tell me you’d let someone being in the military stop you from being together.” Wow. These former special ops guys stick together.
“No.” Or at least, I don’t think so. I hated the moving-around part as a kid, but I admire my dad’s devotion to service. Brian’s too. But none of that is the point at all. “He’s not in the military anymore. But he sort of does similar work now.”
“Black ops?” Brian asks suspiciously.
“No,” Gina jumps in. “More like, security?” Her voice gets suspiciously high.
“Private security,” I add in, hoping Gina follows my lead and doesn’t elaborate.
“Must be boring as fuck for him after special forces. But what’s the problem? Sounds like he’s just making a living.”
I shrug.
“Paigey, no one’s going to be perfect. This guy treats you right? And has a job? I’m sure he’s good-looking—”
“Oh, he’s hot as fu—” Gina starts to chime in, then looks up to see Brian scowling at her. “I mean, if you’re into that big, strong, demanding military type.”
“ Ex -military,” I correct.
Brian keeps staring at Gina, then turns more toward me. “I don’t know this guy. But I’ve met most of your exes. If this guy was good enough for GOI, he might actually be good enough for you. Or as close as a guy can get to being good enough for you.”
“And what about for me?” Gina asks.
Brian leans in close to Gina’s ear and whispers. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I swear if he doesn’t wrap an arm around her, she’s going to collapse on jelly legs.
Finally, he pulls back.
Gina’s stunned, speechless, and a deeper shade of red than I thought humanly possible.
I better get her out of here before she starts dry humping his leg. “We should get going.” I have a lot to think about.
“Get in the Jeep. I’m driving you to the gate myself.”
I wave to the group of guys assembled behind him. A chorus of “bye, Paige” and “come back and see us again, ladies” echoes as we walk away. They are so sweet.
Brian jog-walks toward us, shouts over his shoulder, “I swear to God, if a single one of you even thinks about wanking off thinking about my little sister, I will end you. Understood?”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
An especially brave one asks, “What about the friend, sir?”
Brian stops dead in his tracks. “Burpees. All of you. Do not stop until I’m back. And for the record, I’m leaving the Jeep at the gate and walking back. Leisurely.” He jogs back toward us with a self-satisfied grin, mumbling to himself, “Good luck even lifting your arms tonight, motherfuckers.”
We’ve been in my car for ten minutes now. Gina hasn’t said a word since Brian clicked her seatbelt in for her.
I haven’t either. At first, I was quiet because the road out of that place always confuses me and I needed to focus so I wouldn’t go the wrong way. But I’ve stayed quiet because Brian made everything more confusing by making it sound so simple.
Like, maybe I actually could get past the one bad thing about Damiano in exchange for all the good? Or that the bad isn’t as bad as I was thinking because they do the bad for good reasons? Am I na?ve to believe that, or am I heartless to reject Damiano for it?
Okay, Gina needs to snap out of her daze and help me figure this out.
But first, I need to give her shit. “So what was all that?”
“That, my friend, was Brian telling you it’s okay to be with Damiano.”
“No, not that part. We’ll get back to that part. What was with you and Brian? What did he whisper to you?” I glance over quickly, waiting for her response.
She sighs. “Nothing a sister should ever hear.”
My eyes back on the road, I smile. “You know I’m totally good with you two going out, right?”
“I know. But it’s not going to happen. We just joke around with each other.”
“Brian doesn’t joke around.” He doesn’t. It’s not his nature. It’s also not his nature to shamelessly flirt. He’s super private with his relationships. I haven’t met any of his girlfriends since he was in high school. Not even Hailey, and they were together for three years—every time he’d show up somewhere without her, he’d claim that she couldn’t come because she was tied up in his dungeon.
Gina shrugs. “ Anyway , you can be with Damiano now, right?”
My turn to shrug. “To be honest, I thought Brian was going to shut it down. I thought he was going to say some magic words to help me to move on, that there’s no way it could work out.”
“But instead, he gave you permission. He told you to get down on your knees, crawl across the floor, and beg Damiano to take you back.”
“He didn’t say anything even close to that.”
“Hmm. I swear he said something about crawling and begging, being gagged. Maybe that was just when he was whispering to me.”
“Gina!”
She sticks her tongue out and shakes her head at me, giving me an evil grin. “Anyway, explain this to me again.”
“Explain which part?”
“Explain the part where you really like Damiano and he really likes you and he’s got abs for days, has a job, is a fully legit actual bad boy but treats you like a queen, and he—”
“Are you going somewhere with this?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her giving me a look. “ And he can be the partner you need. He’s loyal, he’s intuitive, he actually likes your petting zoo. He even stole your rabbit so you’d have to go back to him. This guy is everything.”
“Except that his job is to kill people. Kill them , G.”
“Granted, that’s a check in the ‘not ideal’ column, but let’s say he had a different job. Let’s say he’s a dentist and—”
“He is a dentist.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“He’s a wha—? Ooooh.”
I turn and look over at her and nod. Luckily we’re stopped at a traffic light.
“Finally! Good for you. So that’s a check in the ‘hell yeah’ column. You know what? That’s two checks.”
“Three checks, G. Give him three checks for that.”
“Okay, three in the plus col—”
“Honestly? Count it for four.” I shift Jo-Jo into gear as the light turns green. “I mean, it’s like glitter bombs exploding in my va-jay-jay.”
“So what the fuck are you even stressing over? Why aren’t you with him?”
“You think I should completely ignore that he kills people?”
“I think Tom and Spencer were mostly shitty guys who didn’t give you the attention and respect you deserve. Tom cheated on you. Spencer completely used you. I have no clue how those two are more acceptable options than Damiano.”
“Because they don’t kill people, that’s why.”
“You want to know what I think? Here’s what I think. You didn’t grow up here, I did. North of 63 rd Street used to be a frickin’ war zone. The Famiglias were at each other’s throats and regular people got caught in the crossfire all the time. The family in the apartment across from ours when I was little? Their son was one grade above me. He got killed in a shootout walking home with his mom.”
“Exactly the life I don’t want a part of. You’ve made my point for me.”
“No, that’s not my point. My point is that everything changed. The next generation of Famiglia guys took over. The violence ended. It ended, Paige. They figured out a way to make peace with each other. They made the neighborhoods safer.”
“Uh-huh.”
“There’s still violence, but they keep it within their world. Innocent people aren’t getting killed anymore. You read the news, when was the last time you saw a story about. . . You don’t read the news, do you?”
I shake my head. “Local news makes me sad, and national news makes me mad.”
“I don’t really watch much either, it’s boring as fuck. But you don’t need the news to get my point. Chicago is safer now because of them.”
“I guess.”
“You’re still looking for excuses for things not to work out. Quit that. Close your eyes and imagine what it would be like to wake up next to Damiano every day.”
“I can’t close my eyes, I’m driving.”
“Close your mental eyes. Picture it. Stop focusing on why it shouldn’t work out, and imagine what it would be like if it did.”
“And just accept that he kills people?”
“Well, first off, let’s not use the K-word anymore. Let’s say he. . . ‘immobilizes threats.’ Second, yes. You should just accept that he immobilizes threats . Remember when I thought I was getting serious with Martin and then he said I should quit my job? He got super weird about how much I had to travel and how much time I spent with the team?”
I nod. “He wanted you to give up what you’d been working toward for more than a decade.”
“And what did you tell me?”
“That if he respected you, he’d trust you to make good decisions while you were apart.”
“Did you mean it?”
“Of course I meant it.”
Gina has a smug look on her face because she just made me make a point against myself.
“ But in my defense, I don’t know what I’m talking about half the time and just make things up as I go.”
“No, Paige. You speak and act from the heart all the time. That’s what your heart was telling you then. I bet it’s telling you the same thing now. Can you trust him to make good decisions while you’re apart? And I don’t mean good decisions in the eyes of the law, or right and wrong, or artificial social constructs, or—”
“Not killing people is not an artificial construct.”
“Ah, ah, ah.”
I roll my eyes. “Sorry. Not immobilizing threats ,” I wait for Gina to give me a nod acknowledging my correction, “is not an artificial construct. It’s a real thing.”
“Is it though? Cavemen ki— immobilized other cavemen. Dominance is in our genetic makeup. It’s only illegal because the law says it’s illegal. And anyway, the point is this—do you trust him to make good decisions related to you and your relationship?”
“Absolutely. But—”
“No buts. You need to balance those two things.”
“Balance the fact that he immobilizes threats with the fact that he’ll treat me amazingly and would never cheat—”
“And would go down on you for an hour every night.”
“Be serious.”
“I never joke about muff diving, you know that.”
I huff out loud. I need a few minutes to think. Everything Brian said and everything Gina’s saying all seem to make sense. And seeing Rob taking care of the neighborhood and taking real care of Damiano, seeing them as a community—I can get behind all those things.
And I really like Damiano. I don’t want to be without him.
We’re stopped at a light. Gina holds up her phone, showing me a map. “If you turn left here, it’s only four minutes to the Cat’s Meow.”