Chapter 7 #4
Beautiful. Of course, Riley would think beyond a limited view to environmental protection to global responsibility. That was what she’d gone to school to do. She cared about the planet and the limited resources. She thought bigger than most people, cared more deeply.
Talon: That's beautiful.
Riley: Think we'll achieve those things?
Talon: I think we've already started working on them.
She had been, and he didn’t doubt she would again. His only question was how she would do it now. Would she return to the job she had, or would she find another way to make a difference?
"You look happy," Jug observed as they boarded the plane home from Africa.
"It's been a good tour," Talon replied, but he was thinking about Riley's latest text, about the fact that he'd be back in the States soon, about the possibility of finally seeing her in person.
Talon: Heading back to the States. Tour is over but will be back in Satan’s crotch in four months.
He'd been in a good mood all day, partly because of the successful mission but mostly because he was going home.
Riley: Are you serious? Stop. Can’t breathe. LMAOROTFL.
Talon: What? Tell me you didn’t think the same when you were here!
She brought out this lighter side of him, this playful version of himself that he'd forgotten existed.
Riley: You're in a good mood.
Talon: Heading back to see family. That always improves my outlook.
Riley: Must be nice to have a family to go back to.
The words hit him harder than they should have, and his smile slid off his face. She still didn't feel at home at her father’s and still felt displaced. He wanted to change that, wanted to give her a place where she belonged, but how?
Talon: It is. Have you thought about getting a place of your own?
Riley: No, but someday, I'll get there. I’m looking at my job opportunities and moving forward.
He wanted to be part of that forward movement. He hoped he’d be able to witness her build a life where she felt safe, loved, and completely herself.
Riley: Had dinner with six people tonight. Dad's business friends.
Talon was sitting in his parents’ living room.
From where he sat, he could hear his extended family, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends laughing and visiting in the backyard.
They were gathered for a barbecue because he was home.
He’d popped back inside to catch a breath of solitude when Riley’s text came through.
Talon: How did it go?
He knew she didn’t like her father’s business partners.
The idea of having dinner with them had left her less than thrilled.
He glanced out the open French doors at the thirty or so people milling around his parents’ pool.
He wished she understood what a real family felt like.
Business happened, but mostly, it was about life and love.
Riley: I prattled on about the weather and Dad's business. I call that success.
Yep. Dealing with her bastard of a father, he’d call it that, too.
Talon: I'm proud of you.
Riley: For making benign conversation?
Hell yeah. He’d had probably told off the fuckers and walked out of the house. She was definitely more diplomatic than he was. He laughed silently. Okay, so, everyone was more diplomatic than he was.
Talon: For not telling them to take a flying leap and your old man to get bent.
Riley: Remember he’s also my employer. Got to keep the boss happy.
Talon: But do you? Asking for a friend.
Riley: Yes. For now.
Well, at least she was looking toward the future.
He was proud of her. Yeah, he couldn’t see himself leaving that dinner without telling off the bastard.
He truly hoped he would never meet her father face-to-face.
He’d imagined his fist connecting with her father’s nose one too many times.
Muscle memory and visualization may cause him to react without thinking.
It was 0400, and Talon was wide awake in his hotel room, adrenaline still coursing through his system from their first mission since they’d returned to Africa. They'd gotten the targets, everyone was safe, but sleep was elusive. He reached for his phone.
Talon: 0400 and wide awake. Mission adrenaline is wearing off slowly.
He'd never shared this part with anyone—the aftermath, the way success could feel hollow sometimes, the questions that surfaced when the immediate danger was over.
Riley: Want to talk about it?
No judgment, no demands for details he couldn't share, just an offer to listen. When had anyone other than family and his team ever offered him that kind of unconditional support? Then again, when had he ever let anyone close enough to offer it? That was probably the better question.
Talon: Can't give details, but we got the bad guys, and everyone came home.
Riley: That's what matters.
Simple, true, grounding. She had this way of cutting through his complicated feelings to the core truth.
Talon: Is it weird that I worry you think less of me for what I do?
The question came from a place of vulnerability he rarely accessed. But Riley made him want to be honest about his fears, his doubts, the parts of himself he usually kept locked away.
Riley: Talon, you saved my life. You save people. Why would I think less of you?
Because the world was complicated, because good outcomes sometimes required difficult choices, because not everyone understood that sometimes violence was the only answer to ward off greater violence.
Talon: Sometimes the world seems very dark from where I sit.
Riley: Then focus on the light. Focus on the people you've helped. Focus on the good that has come from the darkness because of where you sit.
Focus on the light. She was the light. Had been since the day he'd found her. Her recovery, her strength, her determination to heal … Yeah, all of it was proof that his work mattered.
Talon: Then I’ll focus on you.
Riley: If that helps, I’d be honored.
Talon: Yeah, it does.
More than she could possibly know. She was his reminder that there was goodness in the world worth protecting, worth fighting for.
She was his reason to keep going when the darkness threatened to swallow everything else.
And she didn’t know it. More and more, he’d been telling himself he needed to tell her.
Needed to let her know how important she’d become.
August
Talon was in his barracks room, trying to focus on mission prep, when Riley's text arrived. The words on the screen made his world tilt sideways.
Riley: Went on a date tonight.
The words hit him like a physical blow. Fuck him standing.
Shit. Son of a bitch. Motherfucking hell.
Of course, she was dating. Because he was a dipshit and hadn’t told her that he cared for her.
She was beautiful, intelligent, funny—why wouldn't she be dating?
Motherfucker. Damn it. The thought of her with someone else made his chest tight with jealousy.
Talon: Oh.
Like that was an adequate response to news that felt like a punch to the gut. It was all he could fucking muster.
Riley: It was terrible.
Relief flooded through him so fast it was embarrassing.
The date was terrible. She wasn't falling for someone else, wasn't moving on to a life that didn't include him.
He typed, Thank God, then erased it. Typed, Fuck yeah, then erased that, too.
Taking a breath, he brought his thoughts under control.
Finally, he typed a response he could send.
Talon: I'm sorry to hear that.
Was he sorry? Nope. Not at all. He was lying through his teeth, lying through the text, lying like a big ugly fucking dog that wanted no one but himself around her.
Riley: Are you though?
Fuck. She could read him even through text messages. There was no point in lying to her—she saw through him too clearly.
Talon: Sorry it was terrible? No. I’m not. Sorry you went? Yeah, means I haven’t told you things I should.
Riley: Honest answer. I appreciate that.
She appreciated his honesty, even when it revealed things he probably shouldn't be feeling. When had they gotten to the point where complete honesty felt safe?
Talon: Always.
With her, he would always be honest. She’d earned that from him and more besides.
Talon stood in the Colosseum, surrounded by tourists and history, but his mind was on a woman thousands of miles away. The scale of the ancient architecture was humbling, but it also made him think about perspective, about what mattered in the grand scheme of things.
Talon: In Rome. The history here is overwhelming.
He wanted to share this with her, to hear her perspective on the weight of centuries, on how the past shapes the present.
Riley: In a good way?
Talon: Humbling. Makes you realize how small your problems are in the grand scheme.
But also how precious the small moments were, how important individual connections could be even in the face of vast historical forces.
Riley: And how important the small moments are.
Exactly. She grasped the duality of feeling both insignificant and essential simultaneously. Their conversations were small moments, but they'd become the most important part of his days.
Talon: Exactly. Like these conversations.
Like these conversations that had become his anchor, his reason to look forward to the quiet moments between missions.
Riley: Are we having a moment, Talon?
The question made his heart race in a way that gunfights and tactical operations never did. Were they having a moment? They'd been having moments for months—small admissions, shared vulnerabilities, the slow build of something that was bigger than friendship.
Talon: I hope so.
The safest answer he could give while still being honest. Maybe they were having a moment. Maybe this was more than friendship. Maybe he was falling in love with her one text message at a time.
Riley: Good. I like our moments. I need them.