17. Tommy
CHAPTER 17
Tommy
F or the first time in my life, I have everything I’ve ever wanted. More even because I honestly didn’t know love could feel like this. It’s natural and pure. The fact I’m leaving a funeral for one of my teammates doesn’t even dampen the utter elation of Margo saying yes to my proposal. We called her mom the next morning because we were busy all night long. My parents are ecstatic. Margo’s mom wanted to fly out that second to celebrate with us. I went from the highest highs to this. The low. One of the lowest.
Blessedly Hank was single, not that it makes his death better or easier, but Commander Reynolds has two kids and a wife. Their pain is visceral and all-encompassing. Amanda is his wife’s name, and her children are thirteen and six. She’s sitting on a bench outside of the church alone, her head hanging as she fiddles with something in her lap. Stepping closer, I see that it’s his gold wedding ring. A lump lodges in my throat and stays as I approach her.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, ma’am.” And because she’s surrounded by SEALs in uniforms that look nearly the same, I go on. “My name is Tom Towne, and I was on the mission with your husband.”
Her gaze slowly leaves the ring she is holding and rises to meet mine. Her red eyes and the dark shadows underneath make her look haunted. She probably is. “Thank you,” she says simply, shaking her head. “I wasn’t sure whether to bury him with the ring or save it for Henry, our son. I kept it because once it was underground, it was there forever, you know?” It’s a little sadistic but honest.
What would I want to hear in this situation? “I think he’d want Henry to have it. The service was beautiful.”
She lifts one shoulder and lets it fall with a huff. “He planned it, I didn’t. I just followed orders,” she says, her tone laced with bitterness. “Isn’t that always the way though?”
Amanda fists shredded tissue in between her fingers. I hand her a clean, white handkerchief I have in my pocket for instances such as this. She takes it, gingerly holding it. I sit down on the bench next to her, my heart pounding. What if I say the wrong thing? I am wildly unqualified at giving advice or even saying the right thing at the right time. Quite the opposite. “Not always,” I say.
She sniffles and uses the handkerchief. “What am I supposed to do? My entire life was waiting for him to come home. Even when he was on training trips, I’d count down the days until we were back together. My life has been a series of waiting and countdowns until my heart was able to be whole.” The pit in my stomach flips. “Then the kids came, and I felt like they had their own internal clocks ticking until our family was whole. He’d deploy, and they’d talk about when Dad comes home, we can do x, y, and z. I didn’t stop living when he was gone, but it was a half-life.”
The way she phrases it makes sense, and a pang of guilt hits me. “Did he feel the same way?”
“I think he was able to compartmentalize family and work. He was our entire world. Henry would have a victory in hockey and film a video of his excitement to share with his dad instead of celebrating in person. It was a detached half-life,” Amanda whispers. “And now we have nothing. No more countdowns. I’m left forever with a half-heart.” The way she folds into herself forces me to feel her pain. “He died doing what he loved surrounded by those he loved.”
“He loved you and the kids,” I say. “If he could go back in time knowing this outcome, I know he would have chosen you. He’d want you to have a full heart.”
Amanda smiles sadly, looking up at me and seeing me for the first time. “That’s the thing. He wouldn’t have. But that’s okay.” A tear slides down her cheek. “It was nice talking to you. I need to get Mara to her counseling session. We had to schedule an emergency appointment because she’s not handling this well.” She glances over her shoulder as she walks away. “Thank you for your service.”
There it is. The hook. The shell of honor that encases my heart. The reason I do what I do is because others can’t or won’t. I sit on that bench for a long time staring at the church, picturing a totally different outcome. One where I’m inside the coffin, and my brothers are pounding their tridents into the solid wood. Margo is Amanda. My parents and friends are the grievers. When I allow the nightmare to finish, I stand, legs weak from sitting so long, and head straight to my car. To go to Margo. Because I can’t let that love die. Not now. Not ever.
Fish makes me sick to my stomach as he plays house with Jeannie at her apartment. It’s not something I’m used to seeing from him, or any of my close friends to be honest, so it almost feels criminal to watch him boop her nose as he passes her in the kitchen. They’re making dinner like a married couple. Fish was never the kind of man who went looking for love, in fact, quite the opposite is true. I stare in a state of amazement like a child watching monkeys at the zoo.
“Hand me the olive oil please, Pookie,” Jeannie says.
My gaze slides to my friend. “Here you go, baby,” Fish returns, passing her the bottle. Jeannie smiles widely. There’s no trace of sarcasm or humor. This is real. I’ve never seen him smile this way, either. He’s either stone cold, deathly stoic, or indifferent—there aren’t other factory settings for him until now.
“Pookie, can you get me a beer while you’re fetching things?” I bite my lip to stifle a laugh. “Please,” I add.
Fish looks at me sideways, grabs a beer, opens it on his forearm, and slides it across the island counter. “You’re drinking, huh?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” I reply. Margo rounds the corner from Jeannie’s bedroom. She was on the phone with her mom. She told her about Nathaniel breaking into my apartment and receiving payment for information, so obviously her mom was worried about what that meant. I told Margo to reassure her that there was nothing to worry about. That it was being handled, but I’ve realized that women don’t like being told not to worry.
Fish shrugs. “Just thought we had plans for later on tonight that involved sobriety.”
Shaking my head, I say, “I’m not worried about it. It’s been a long day. It can wait.” He’s referencing our plan to stake out Hollis’s halfway house to see if whoever hired him makes an appearance. After the funeral today and Hank’s earlier in the week, I just don’t have it in me to be anywhere except next to Margo.
“What was that about sobriety?” Margo asks.
I lace an arm around her back and take a large swig of the beer. “That it’s not happening tonight. Hank and Commander would want us to raise a toast or three. I’m home. I made it back.” There’s something wistful about the last sentence. Others never get to say that again.
“You are home,” Margo says, hugging me around the waist. “I’m sorry I couldn’t go to the funeral with you today.” Her voice lowers. “I have so much work to catch up on and files to go through without Nathaniel there.” It’s a constant reminder of the what-ifs that I can’t solve immediately, but I decided to take a wait-and-see approach now that I’m at a new apartment.
I clear my throat. “I don’t know if we’re ever going to eat with the way these two are canoodling.” I take heart that it seems to be just as weird for her seeing her best friend act this way. Looking at Margo, I get it. I do. You find your person and never want to let go.
“They didn’t follow the five-date rule, and I’m going to bring that up anytime Jeannie tries to give me a hard time about anything. For the rest of forever.” Margo glances up at me. “Mom is so worried. Did you find anything new out today?”
I reconsider my wait-and-see approach. “I haven’t, it’s fine. You’re safe with me.”
“She’s worried about retaliation because I got him fired from the best job he’ll possibly ever have in his career. There is nowhere to go but down when you are in the position we’re in. He’s going to be leading exercise classes on social media, jostling his friend lists to pay to subscribe to his top-tier workout program.” Her eyes narrow. “He’ll DM friends from high school asking if they’re ready to finally lose those last ten pounds.”
I chuckle. “He can’t retaliate,” I explain.
“What if he can? He lost his job because he did something he wasn’t supposed to do. Nothing is stopping him now. Getting him fired was only an illusion of safety.”
Jeannie chimes in. “Margo, you have to stop fixating on this and live life. If I thought this was something to worry about, I’d tell you.” She rounds the island to stand in front of Margo, leaving Fish to cook. “Stop letting yourself spin up worst-case scenarios. People get fired from their dream jobs every day and don’t become murderous, vindictive snakes. Remember your last job? That girl who got fired for acting crazy after you were on her property?”
I raise a brow. “What property?”
Margo groans, and Jeannie smiles. Ah, so this was a tactic to change the subject. I make a mental note. “I wasn’t on her property. Jeannie is talking in code to save me embarrassment. I went on a date with this trainer’s ex, but I didn’t know it was her ex. I worked at a gym on the other side of San Diego while they were training me for the base.” She looks up sheepishly. “She didn’t even make the cut, so I don’t have to work with her.”
She has a past, one I can be pissed about internally, but not forward facing. “Well, that’s fortunate for you. And the guy?”
Margo waves me off. “He was nobody.” She glares at her friend, narrow mouth and sharp eyes.
Jeannie cackles. “That was easy. Tell us everything about you, Tommy. I need to know who my best friend is marrying.” Jeannie looks at Margo. “That’s so unreal to say out loud. I didn’t think we’d be here. And all because of me.” She shushes Margo. “You may be mad I didn’t follow the same rules I gave you, but you have to admit it worked. I’m writing a paper on it for a psychology magazine.” She pauses. “Don’t worry, I won’t mention your name or any distinguishing facts, but this could be what gets me on the map.”
Margo looks at her friend and then me. “I’m okay with her pimping out our relationship if it furthers her career. Believe it or not, I also only want the best for her,” Margo says. It’s laced with sarcasm, but it’s easy to see the love between them. She hugs Jeannie. “I’m still worried about Nathaniel and all the other stuff, though, just so we’re clear. I’ll allow the subject change.” We all sniff the air at the same time. “Fish is burning dinner.”
Jeannie’s eyes widen, and she runs back to the stove, a high-pitched screech trailing her. “Ah, I should have told you he can’t cook to save his life.” The chicken is blackened. Not in the fancy way, in the trashcan food way. “Fish, you are the worst, man,” I exclaim. “You ruined dinner for not only me but for the ladies.”
Fish pulls a face. “Chinese takeout. On me.”
Margo throws a hand over her mouth and nose as Jeannie opens the living room window before the smoke alarms go off. “I’ll order,” I announce, pulling my phone from my pocket. “And have it delivered.”
When the smoke has cleared and against our best judgment, we begin a game of never have I ever while we wait. The first round was innocent enough. Simple questions. It’s the warm-up. I’m six beers deep when it’s my turn again. I’d like to think I’m not a jealous man because I have her. My ring is on her finger, but there’s the tiny niggling part that detests that I’m not the only one she’s been with. It’s irrational, it’s a weak man’s problem, yet I’m a moron just the same. “Never have I ever had sex with a stranger.”
Fish drinks. Jeannie turns to look at Margo but doesn’t drink, and Margo stares at me like I’ve lit her hair on fire. She picks up her beer and drinks the entire thing in one swallow. I knew she had. Her past is something I’m quite intimate with due to the whole five-date rule. I always knew why it was put in place. On a broader scale so she could see what a healthy relationship looks like, but also to take away the power her ex held over her.
She slams the bottle down and wipes her mouth with her sleeve. “That was uncalled for.”
“I was running out of boring cues,” I explain, grinning. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
Fish grunts. “Not all of us have halos hanging from our four-poster beds.”
Jeannie leans away from him—her nose flaring like she smells something gross. “Ugh, that is not an attractive thing to say.”
Fish holds out his hands to his sides. I think he did this to take the heat off me. “That’s not me anymore, and it’s not her anymore.” He points at Margo. “You put a ring on her finger! That’s forever, my man. You can’t be worried about the past.”
Margo looks down. “Yeah. I would take it back if I could.”
Jeannie glares daggers at me when she sees I’ve upset her friend. “We listen, and we don’t slut shame,” she says, speaking slowly.
“I wasn’t!” I exclaim. “Your turn, Margo. Just make it bad so we can be even.”
Her beautiful eyes narrow. Tears threaten to spill out the corners. “Never have I ever,” she replies, but she’s cut off by the doorbell.
“Hold that thought. I’ll grab the food, and you can lay into me.” I lick my lips. “I love you, Margo. Don’t be mad at me. I was teasing. This isn’t allowed to be our first fight.” I’m looking at Margo perched on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees, when I open the door.
The delivery guy sets his big, insulated bag on the ground and bends over to pick up the bags of food from it. When he leans back up and his gaze cuts to mine, I lose my breath—adrenaline hitting me like a train. I haven’t seen him in person before. “Close the door and no one else gets hurt,” Hollis sneers—pupils blacked out. He’s high out of his mind. A quick scan of the rest of him confirms this. There’s a sheen of sweat covering his exposed skin, and his pulse is rapid-fire, banging at his neck.
“What do you want?” I ask, keeping my voice low, even as my head swims. I shouldn’t have had the beers. Fuck. I let the door click closed and pray to God Margo doesn’t check on me. I can fight this bastard drunk or sober. “Who sent you here?” I ask. Before I incapacitate him, I need information, even though warning bells are sounding off, I need confirmation.
His smile is a snarl. “I was fucking sober. On my way to a new life, and he offered me more money than I could say no to.” He hangs his head and takes a step back toward the stairs that lead down to the first floor. “I couldn’t do this sober,” he says, taking another step. “I had to relapse to hurt her.” He sobs, slimy yellow teeth bared. “To hurt her again.”
“Do what sober?” I say, my hands in solid fists ready to fight at any second. I take a step toward him.
He coughs and coughs, it’s a maniacal cough that he can’t control. In between heaving breaths, he says, “Trap you.”
I’m blindsided by the full impact of what feels like a linebacker against my side. A blind spot because there’s a corner over to my right. In a rush that feels like slow motion, I’m flailing, trying to catch myself, until I realize I was knocked down the stairs. He lured me. Like a fish to a worm in the correct position. After I land on the stairs and begin the hard descent against the cement, I hear pops and cracks throughout my body as it pounds against the steps, and Margo screams from somewhere above me. Fish is with her, I remind myself in between blackness and dizzying pain.
I’m on the paved ground at the bottom of the stairs facing up, when I see him. A square-toothed smile greets me. I can’t move. It’s like I don’t own my fucking body. “I haven’t been this relieved from the moment I knew you existed. You took what was mine, and now it doesn’t matter because you’ll be gone.” Ron Steelchase jeers as he watches me try and fail to move my legs. “Dani deserved more than what you gave her. You are a piece of shit. I take care of what belongs to me, and I always will.”
Why did it take me so long to realize it was Ron all along? All I had to go on was Dani because I knew her well. Never in my wildest delusion would I have thought she’d choose someone like him. Someone capable of evil. The blackness takes over a moment or two after I hear Ron give Hollis orders. Snaps that could be gunshots pierce my awareness, but maybe that’s just the nightmare I’ve had every night since my teammates died.
Then, after the blackness, there’s nothing.
Not even my own heartbeat.