Chapter 2
James
Ifinished bidding Amber goodbye far sooner than I’d planned.
She was a good sport about it, though I wasn’t sure how much she bought my excuse of a prior commitment that had slipped my mind.
Regardless of whether she believed me, I couldn’t keep going.
Even if she was a tag chaser who remembered my rank, if not my name, she didn’t deserve to be used.
Which is exactly what I’d done the second I caught sight of those hazel eyes through the gap in the door.
Suddenly my half-hearted hookup became a hell of a lot more interesting as I imagined their owner in Amber’s place. The way he’d watched me… I gave myself a good shake and adjusted myself before stepping into the hallway. What I needed was a distraction, and apparently hooking up wasn’t it.
Taking an extended leave was supposed to give me a chance to decide what I wanted to do going forward.
Did I want to be a lifer? The Army was definitely something I was good at, which was a welcome change.
Being part of a family of literal fucking geniuses was no picnic, and being constantly compared to my younger siblings was, in a word, shitty.
I was smart. So what if I wasn’t politically astute like Savannah or a freaking genius like Anderson?
I knew for a fact that Andy would commit murder before running the obstacle course I’d completed in record time…
twice. And Sav? She was more ruthless than a combat drone.
But did I need to stay enlisted because the Army was the only thing I was good at? Because I was fucking tired.
I was tired of bullets flying at my head, having orders barked at me, running endless drills, and worst of all, watching my friends and teammates die.
And if I was being honest–if only with myself–I hated not having anyone to come home to.
Hookups were great short-term, and I’d taken advantage of the freedom that came with not being tied down.
But I was over it. I wanted a relationship, and I wasn’t about to have one when I didn’t stay in one place long enough to make a handful of casual friends.
Not to mention the rampant homophobia. Plenty of people knew me, liked me even, but no one knew me.
They definitely didn’t know I was bi. Hell, I'd only recently told my family.
It really sucked always feeling like I was on the outside.
“Yo, Gallagher!”
I turned from shutting the door and waved in greeting to the guy with a fuzz of dark hair and shadows under his eyes, making his already pale face look sallow. “Sup, Davies?”
“Eh, nothing much.” He shrugged and immediately winced.
“You mean aside from the hangover?” I teased with a loud laugh that made him cringe even more.
“Ugh, shut your fucking face. I didn’t see you complaining when Richards was buying everyone rounds. Or while every miniskirt in the joint was hellbent on giving you a lap dance.”
I hid my cringe. That I didn’t need a reminder of. My reputation as the life of the party had been fine in my twenties, but I couldn’t be that forever. Didn’t want to be. “Why don’t you head down to the mess and get something to soak up all that extra alcohol in your system?”
He nodded. “Great idea, Sarge.” He shuffled a few feet down the hall, then paused and swung his head around to peer at me through squinted eyes. “I heard you’re taking leave. You gonna be hanging around here for the next few months?”
“Probably,” I said with a shrug.
“Cool, cool. We’ll have to get together and hang out.”
“Sure thing.” Hopefully Davies was too out of it to pick up on my noticeable lack of enthusiasm. I watched him trudge down the hallway, bypassing the stairs and heading for the elevator. Once the metal doors shut behind him, I sagged against the wall.
Maybe taking leave had been a mistake. Most guys loved the chance to spend time with their family, WAGs, and friends.
Except my family still didn’t know what to make of my enlisting in the army.
I could still hear my father saying “We spend a fortune providing you a top tier education at Ulwich, but instead of using it to go to college, have a career, you would rather get shot,” while my mother scowled her disapproval in the background.
Clearly, my original plan to make something of myself—to prove to them I had worthwhile qualities too—by joining the military had backfired.
Now I was staring down an endless tunnel of more of the same, edging on burnout, and had next to no transferable life skills.
Small wonder my parents thought I was the family fuck-up.
I stayed lost in my thoughts as I jogged down the stairs and bumped into another familiar face in the entry hall.
“Oh good, you’re still here,” Jones said, giving me a hand slap and a fist bump in greeting.
“Why? You looking for me?” I grinned. Jones was a good guy and had my back more than once over the years.
He gave me a sly grin, and I immediately became wary. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
“Uh oh. Why does that sound like I’m not going to like what you’re going to say?”
“You remember how I got shot in the leg while pulling you out of that burning building?” he asked with a saccharine smile.
I kind of wished he was exaggerating, but that was exactly how it went down, minus a few other unsavory details. “Yeah…”
“I’m officially calling in my favor.”
I held up my hands. “Look, I know I owe you and all, but I already told you, I’m not helping you move your psychotic cousin. There’s something not right with them, and I don’t want to be anywhere near when they finally snap.”
Davies’ smile dropped into a frown. “They’re not that bad.” I gave him a pointed look. “Okay, maybe they are. But it’s not about them anyway, though it does involve helping someone move. Sort of.”
Officially intrigued—and not just because I was already bored out of my damn mind—I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. “Oh, yeah?”
“So here’s the deal,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck, “I have this really good friend who I promised to help move into a small apartment and fix up the shop below it this summer. The problem is—”
“You spaced,” I filled in.
He nodded guiltily. “I totally spaced. And now I’m roped into a bunch of family drama, and there’s no way I can keep my promise. So I need you to go in my place.”
“I don’t know about this, Jones. It’d be pretty weird to show up for some stranger.” Weird, but honestly, I wasn’t ruling it out yet. So far, this was sounding like the ideal distraction.
“That’s the thing. You know the guy. I think you actually led the USAR team that pulled his unit out of Iraq.”
I flashed to a pair of sweet hazel eyes in a handsome face.
Only it wasn’t the image of a soldier bound on a dirt floor covered in bruises and old blood that Jones was referring to.
It was the soldier standing in a cracked doorway, watching me with an intensity that made me forget everything else.
I swallowed thickly. That hadn’t been the only soldier my team had rescued that day, though it was the only one I wouldn’t let anyone else help. It couldn’t be him.
“We rescue a lot of guys, Jones. Care to be more specific?”
He rolled his eyes. “Weathers.”
I nearly swallowed my tongue. “Specialist Marc Weathers?”
“That’s the one! See, I knew you’d remember him. He’s driving down to Fairhope, but I know you don’t bother with a car and he’s already left so you can’t ride with him.”
“You lost me,” I interjected. “Where exactly is ‘Fairhope’ and how the hell do you expect me to get there?”
Jones’s grin should have given me pause. “Easy. It’s in Alabama and I’m buying you a plane ticket and a rideshare.”
I gave him a weak smile. Fuck me. Not just the South, but the Deep South. And Jones saved my life, so it wasn’t exactly like I could say no. “This should be fun.”