Chapter 8 #2
The softness of his voice caused my chin to tremble as I lost control of my emotions. I opened my eyes, and his were staring back at me. Tears welled up, brimming on his eyelashes. Seeing him as emotional as I was about the end of us lightened my load.
“How can you be so fucking lucky while also being the most unlucky motherfucker there is?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Anyone who finds their person is one lucky sumbitch, but finding your person and not being able to make it work has got to be the worst pain there is,” Adam said while stroking my face, smoothing down my beard.
I leaned my forehead against his and closed my eyes, relishing the close contact. “Don’t sell us short, Woody. We’d rock this shit if the obstacles weren’t what they were.”
“Yeah,” he sighed, his head banging against the wall behind us. He grinned. “We would rock this shit.” The smile faded. “If DADT weren’t in our way…”
I held my breath, waiting with bated breath. I wanted to hear him say the words just one damn time.
After several minutes of silence, I sighed. “Yeah. That’s the insurmountable problem. It’s the only one that we cannot get around.”
“What do you mean? We’re on the same team. That doesn’t work either.”
“Adam, if it meant being able to be with you the way I want to be with you, I’d leave Alpha team.”
Shock filled his face. His mouth fell open. He looked ridiculous, to be honest, like a fish out of water, gawping at me.
Finally, the shock faded somewhat, and he asked, “You’d leave Alpha? Leave me?”
“I’ll never leave you, Wood. Never. But to have you, be able to acknowledge you as mine publicly? Yeah. I’d walk away from the teams,” I said, turning to him, taking his face in my hands so he could realize the depth and breadth of my feelings for him.
This wasn’t just sexual to me. I could get my rocks off anytime with pretty much my pick of guys.
But I didn’t want them. I wanted what Adam and I were building together.
Fantastic sex, a great friendship that was growing into something so much more.
What I felt for Adam DuBois was next realm shit.
As cheesy as it sounded-—he completed me. He was the other half of my soul.
“Where would you go?” His voice was small and unsure.
“I don’t know. I’d have to put some feelers out,” I said. “Maybe as an instructor for Green Team. They could always use an extra set of hands.”
“We’re gone three hundred days a year. When would we see each other?”
“I know, and being away from you would suck, but if DADT is repealed and I left Alpha, we’d be able to be together.”
“No matter what, we’re together, but apart. It seems to be our only option.”
I frowned. He wasn’t wrong. If DADT was repealed…
Please, God, let it be repealed. Not just for us, but for so damn many of us in the service who live in fear and must hide to serve our country.
But if it was repealed and Adam and I wanted to be together fully, one of us would have to transfer.
“Damned if we do and damned if we don’t,” I said.
His forehead dropped against mine for several moments until he pulled back, staring into my eyes. I didn’t know what he was looking for, but he must have found it because his mouth turned into a slight grin and he kissed me.
Our mouths moved together slowly. Knowing this was likely the last chance we had with one another, I didn’t want to rush it. I wanted to savor every second.
One of our phones buzzed on the coffee table. Then the other one buzzed too.
We pulled away from one another, our heads turning to where our phones lay. They continued to vibrate. That vibration could only mean one thing.
I stood, walked to the phones, and tossed Adam his. I looked at my phone, seeing exactly what I didn’t want to see, but what I knew would be there.
I wanted to cry. It wasn’t fucking fair. We needed more time.
Will more time change anything?
I pushed the thought away. I didn’t need to answer the question. It wouldn’t change fucking anything. We were Winchester, pinned down between a rock and a hard place with nowhere to go and no other options. Our goose was cooked, and that was that.
I knew this was likely the last chance we’d get to be together like this, but I couldn’t lose him.
Not like this. Not over something so tiny that we’d been able to laugh off and explain away.
We’d been seen eating dinner together by some pissy-ass little twerp.
We’d been careless. Or rather, I’d been careless.
I’d touched Adam’s hand where it lay on the table.
That had been the end of us as anything more than friends and teammates. I’d had hopes that things might change. The repeal was in the works, but gays were still being dishonorably discharged. If it did change, military wheels turned slow, it would take some time, and then there was the team issue.
The issue I thought would split us up hadn’t even come into play. After Adam and I’d fucked that first time, I figured he’d wig the fuck out and say it was a mistake and butt stuff wasn’t his thing, but he hadn’t. He’d embraced his spot on the sexuality spectrum with vigor.
The next five months were the best of my life. My best friend, the man I had come to know and love, couldn’t fucking keep his hands off me. And I was just as bad. Adam was a stud in the sack. He’d fucked me in every inch of his place and mine.
But then everything went to hell.
I might not be the love of his life, but he is mine, and I’ll be damned if I bring him home under a fucking flag.
My phone buzzed in my pocket again. It had been buzzing for a while now. But I didn’t fucking care. It wasn’t the notification to report, which was the only message I wanted to get.
I needed help. I gazed at the apartment, seeing him in every nook and cranny.
Ghost-like images of him walked around the apartment with a multitude of expressions: laughing so hard tears ran down his face, angry, frustrated, horny as hell, possessed with the sexual predator that he kept locked away until it burst forth and went berserk. Jesus Christ, I missed being with him.
God, if you’re listening, I’ll do whatever you want. Just save him. Please, God, bring him home to us, alive and well.
Tears filled my eyes as I texted the team, asking them to meet me at my place. I wouldn’t out the relationship, only my feelings for Adam, but I needed the team’s help because I refused to sit on my ass while Adam was tortured and possibly killed.
When I pulled up to my house, the team was there. Their trucks, Jeeps, and cars lined the street. I sighed when I pulled into my garage. I closed my eyes as the emotion surged like it always did when I came home.
Adam and I had spent many weekends here working on my little fixer-upper.
Even though we’d split up, when I told him I’d bought a house, he offered to help.
We’d done a lot of work on the place, but we’d done so many other things in this house too.
Things we couldn’t keep from happening. Things that had made the house feel like a home.
A home that I hoped one day we’d be able to live in together.
That wouldn’t happen. I’d known that. It couldn’t happen. We’d gone over the issue when we split, and every fucking time we slipped up and found ourselves hot, sweaty, and naked while recovering from yet another fuck that we just couldn’t control.
We were teammates, and the military didn’t understand that a person could serve and be gay.
So, we hid. Taking leave together under the guise we were visiting his grandparents—and we had, but only for a day or two.
Then we’d hole up in a cabin or on a beach somewhere remote so we could be our authentic selves.
Moments we’d snatched from our meager time off.
We’d just celebrated our anniversary before we’d had that final fight. However, Adam wouldn’t have ever called it an anniversary because, to him, we weren’t together. We were just two buddies hanging out. Even if we were getting our rocks off together on a regular basis.
Steeling myself, I got out of my truck. I could tell the guys were all pissed. I assumed they were pissed at me because I’d ignored them all fucking day. I’d seen the notifications when I sent the group text asking them to meet me here.
“Well, at least ye aren’t fecking dead,” Finlay said.
Yep, he isn’t a happy fucking camper.
Sighing, I walked through the group and unlocked the door. “Come on inside. I’ll explain everything.”
They filed in behind me. A couple of them headed to the fridge for drinks while the others pulled a barstool out from the island that separated the kitchen and waited.
Once everyone was settled in, I said, “I’m struggling. I don’t know how else to tell you how bad I’m struggling other than to tell y’all something I should keep to myself. You’re my brothers, though, so I’m gonna put my trust in all of you.”
Foster cleared his throat and said, “You do not have to do this. We all know you and Adam are closer than teammates. You can leave it at that.”
I watched as all the guys nodded. None of them said anything at first.
Finally, Carson said, “Dude, whatever you think you need to say, whatever you were getting ready to say…don’t.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry. I realize now I’m putting you guys at risk.”
Carson shook his head. “No. That’s not it. It’s because it doesn’t need to be said. Whatever you’ve been keeping to yourself doesn’t change who you are. You are our teammate. Our brother. Fuck the naysayers. They’re idiots.”
Tears threatened, but I cleared my throat, pressing my thumb and forefinger into my sockets as I fought to keep the tears at bay. “The fucking waiting is killing me. I don’t understand why there’s even a fucking question about going to get him.”
The room was filled with derisive comments from a whole team of pissed-off SEALs. We were united in our anger about the situation. Foster’s phone rang, interrupting the chaotic cacophony. It was the same ringtone we all had for Mercer.
“Yeah?” Foster asked when he answered.
He never said another word, but he didn’t have to. His face said it all. I dropped my head, wrapped my arms around myself, and tried my damnedest to hold myself to-fucking-gether.
“Roger that, sir,” Foster said before he hung up the phone. He turned his back to us and walked to the front windows. “We’ve been declared undeployable and given leave for the next thirty days. We are not to report to base during that time.”
I stared a hole in his back as he stared out over the front yard, waiting for him to explain.
When he didn’t, I said, “What the fuck does that mean for Adam?”
Foster turned back to us, his jaw clenched so hard I was surprised his teeth weren’t cracking. “It means if someone goes after him, it won’t be us.”
Finlay said, “What the fecking hell do ye mean, if?”
Foster shoved his hands in through his hair. “A decision still hasn’t been made. According to Mercer, the intel still isn’t definitive enough to warrant a green light.”
I shot to my feet. I grabbed the barstool I’d been sitting on, squeezing the legs. My arms shook. All the anguish and rage and sheer fucking despair clawed its way out of the fucking box I’d had it bottled up in since Adam was captured.
“FUCK!” The word ripped through my throat like razor blades.
Unable to contain all the shit I felt any longer, I turned, swinging the fucking stool with everything in me. I felt the vibrations as I made contact with something, and the bone-jarring jolt released the last of the rage I’d boxed up.
I continued swinging, relishing the violence, the release. I was blind and deaf to everything around me. All I heard was Adam’s voice, which was so fucking rough, but could be so damn sweet too. Like chocolate-covered gravel.
All I saw was Adam’s face. The smile he’d get when I made him laugh. The sexy-ass smirk that never failed to light me up inside. The look of lust and determination and even anger. I saw it all, and it gutted me, knowing I’d never see or hear him again.
Arms wrapped around me from behind, imprisoning my arms while someone wrestled the barstool out of my hands. Finlay stood in front of me with the mangled barstool in his hands. His face and the faces of my teammates I could see were filled with sympathy and some of the rage and anguish I felt.
I fought against the person behind me. “Let me go, goddammit!”
Foster’s arms dropped from around me immediately.
I shoved away from him, dashing the moisture from my face as I took a few deep, calming breaths.
When I turned back around, I winced. I’d pommeled the island, the walls, and the fucking fridge.
Everything in my path had felt the brunt of the anguish that still percolated throughout my system.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
If Adam saw this, he’d be fucking pissed. We’d worked our asses off in this kitchen. It had been a fucking disaster when I first bought this place, and after my outburst, it wasn’t much better than where it’d started.
Before anyone could say anything, my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket. I didn’t recognize the number on the screen, but I answered anyway.
“Jones,” I said.
“Chief Petty Officer Jones?” The Texas twang sounded familiar.
“Yes?” I replied.
“You don’t know me, but I believe you’ve met my sons, Walker, Foster, and Parker.”
“Admiral Holt?” I questioned.
Foster’s eyes widened, and he looked at his phone. I was as confused as he was.
Why is his dad calling me and not him?
He chuckled. “Happy to see my son’s number three isn’t just a knuckle-dragging door kicker. Are you alone?”
“No, sir. The team is here with me,” I explained, still completely baffled as to why Admiral Holt called me and not his son.
“Good to hear they are rallying around you. Put me on speaker,” he commanded.
Rally around me? Why just me?
I glared at Foster as I followed the admiral’s orders, wondering what Foster had told his dad about me. “Sir, you’re on speakerphone.”
“Alpha Team, there’s a private jet headed for the airport, and you are all expected to be on it. I’ve texted Petty Officer Jones the information. We’ll talk more when you get to the ranch.”
The line went dead immediately, just as a text notification came in.
UNKNOWN
1700 PVG
“What the fuck?” I showed the text to Foster, and he sighed.
“Looks like we need to grab our shit…” Foster’s phone dinged, and he laughed. He showed his text to me as he asked, “Y’all ready to fly with five kids and four dogs?”