28. Tiger of fate
Chapter 28
Tiger of fate
LETTIE
S ure hope I don’t regret this—the title of my life plan.
Sammy and I will watch the op from the lair. Shit’s getting real.
Like last time, Mia and Klein are running the show and talking to the team through the headsets. However, Boss has a seat at the console and a headset on, seemingly playing a more active role than he did on the mission to capture Yev.
Sue and Kri are also spectating since Leo and Shep are with the team.
Kri’s pacing back and forth this time, her gait noticeably smoother. She’s doing well with her recovery. I’ve sat in on a few of her training sessions in the gym downstairs this past week. She’s a fucking warrior. Like a shorter, blonde Wonder Woman with a cooler haircut.
On her next pass behind me, I meet her eyes. “Where’s Val?”
“Downstairs, playing video games with Junior.”
Mia perks up, throwing a smirk over her shoulder at Kri. “In the bunk room? Alooone ?”
“Stop that.” Kri wags a finger at her, feigning annoyance. “It’s not funny.”
Mia wiggles her head from side to side. “Disagree. It’s a little funny.”
“Do I need to have a chat with Junior?” Boss Dad nearly snarls the words and cuts an icy glare at Kri.
She puts her hands in front of her. “Not necessary. The crush is totally one-sided. All on Val. Junior has been respectful and kind to her. Nothing more. She isn’t making any cheap passes at him. It’s just longing little looks.”
“It’s just. Just . A little crush. Crush ,” I playfully sing the lyrics to an older song that recently became popular on social media. No clue of the artist or title, but that part of the song is forever branded in my mind.
Stella sent me a link to the Town Crier site a few days ago. Some of the townies—Jennifer Stewart, Dee Abrams, and Kenadhe Simpson—were trying to create a trend by dancing to the tune. Spoiler alert: it didn’t go viral. Probably ’cause Joy Bronn never learned to hold a camera properly. Half the video had her finger partially covering the lens. Bless her heart.
“Damn, girl. Listen to you.” Sammy tries to whistle but fails hilariously, the sound coming out like a fluttered fart.
Mia taps the desk a few times, keeping her eyes on the screens.“We need a Lettie Holt concert.”
My cheeks go rosy, and I blow off their flattery. “Oh, hush. That wasn’t nothing special.”
Seriously, it was barely anything.
Like Mia, Klein doesn’t remove his focus from the team driving to the meeting spot. “But do you know the classics?” he tosses at me, throwing down the gauntlet.
I love a challenge.
“Such as? Patsy Cline? Yes, siree. Tammy Wynette? Hell yes. Hank Williams Jr. and Sr.? You’re darn tootin’.”
“I’m sure you can sing their songs, Lettie. However, if you want to impress me, hit me with some Eartha Kitt or Lena Horne. Even one of the boys from the Rat Pack, like Frankie or Dean. Those are the greats .”
My brows draw in tight, suspicion darting behind my eyes.
Mia glances at me when I don’t respond, noting my reaction. “He’s serious. For as hot as he is, he has the least sexy music taste. He loves the old shit.”
Klein lets his head jut backward and scoffs, “I don’t hear you complaining when I’m spinning you around the kitchen to Neil Diamond.”
She jabs her elbow out to the side, grazing his forearm. “Only because I’m filming it for blackmail material for later use if you should ever cross me.”
“Oh, if I should cross you , huh?” He jabs her back. “That’s rich.”
“Now I know why Tomer calls you children,” Boss Dad deadpans.
Klein appears chagrined, head bowing slightly and cheeks growing pink.
“Since the team isn’t there yet...” Boss Dad rests back in his chair and faces me. “I’ve been trying to remember the song your mother, Abby, was singing the night we met. And it’s been killing me.”
He rubs his forehead, seemingly deep in thought. There’s a slight tug at the corner of his mouth. When his eyes close, the air of wistfulness surrounding him leaps across the room at me.
Suddenly, I’m there. In the bar with them on the night they met.
Her a faceless woman with golden hair singing on the stage. Him a handsome, younger version of the gruff man he’s become. He stared at the stage along with many other suitors. All of them were mesmerized by her enchanting voice.
In my mind, the vision plays out in slow motion.
Their eyes caught across the smoky bar. She twirled the microphone wire around her fingertips, swaying her hips to match the beat. He brought the rim of his beer bottle to his lips and winked at her. She played it coy at first, demurely looking away for the required three seconds before returning his stare.
And in that moment, in the haze and bustle of a crowded bar full of soldiers on leave and ladies looking to let their hair down, they danced, flirted, talked, and laughed.
Some of them would fall in love before the night ended. Some would only fall into bed.
Since it’s my daydream, I decide my parents fell in love. They knew they were meant to be. So they threw caution to the wind, running headfirst into a passionate love affair.
When he woke the next day, he had orders to deploy. He kissed her softly on the cheek as he gazed over her sleeping body, careful not to wake her. He told himself he’d see her again when he got home. He’d return with a shiny diamond ring and flowers, ready to make her his forever.
But when he came home a year later, she was gone.
Yeah . That’s the story I’ll tell myself.
Big Al yanks me out of my Denial-adjacent Daydream Land when he says, “All I can remember is something about flying. And the ending repeated until it faded out.”
“Slow or fast song, Boss?” Mia asks.
“Little of both, I think.”
Squinting both eyes closed, he taps his fingers against his knee, bobbing along to music only he can hear.
And then he starts humming the melody.
Chillingly familiar.
What are the frigging odds?
“Do you think you’d recognize it if you heard it?” I reach for my phone, following a hunch. “Perhaps it was something about butterflies flying free?”
His eyes spring open. “You know what? It might be. Why? Do you think you know it?”
Swallowing a jagged lump, I unlock the phone and tap exactly four times. Music reverberates through the air, echoing from my phone’s paltry excuse for a speaker.
Everyone grows silent as we look at him and wait with shallow breaths.
The song starts slow, sounding quite unlike the ending he was humming. His initial reaction is a minuscule shake of his head.
My heart sinks.
But hope floats.
On a whim, I drag the player bar toward the end of the song, hoping this jogs his memory. Hell, even if it isn’t the right song, I’d take a bullshit maybe, kid .
As Elton John repeats the closing lyrics again and again, his facial features brighten. His chest puffs with a deep inhale.
“Yeah. I think that’s it.” He hits me with an awestruck grin, making my heart pound fervently. “How in the hell did you know?”
“A hunch.” I give him a lopsided grin, fighting off the emotions. “My Papa used to play this song for me when I had trouble falling asleep as a little girl. I’m guessing my mother used to love it, and perhaps it comforted him after she died.”
An undecipherable look sours his features. Looking at him, one might think someone stole his puppy.
My squirrel brain latches onto that, sending my thoughts careening in another direction.
Oh yeah. The dog. Sue.
I whip my head to the side to catch her attention. “Hey, Sue. Sammy said you’re training a dog that might be up for adoption.”
She doesn’t answer or offer anything in response. Just looks at me.
Then I remember to add an actual question like I occasionally need to do for Tomer. “Is that true?”
“Yes. He isn’t quite ready for a new home yet.”
Sammy nudges me with the side of her arm. “See?”
Sue quirks her head low on one side, looking past Sammy to me. “Why? Do you know someone interested?”
“I might.” I gulp and nod, feeling oddly shy. “Let’s talk about it later, okay?”
Her reply is cut off when Mia addresses the team. She’s suddenly in action mode. “Listen up, guys. We’ve got eyes on your destination. A car just parked behind the building. Looks like they’re early.”
Sammy and I trade glances, four eyebrows reaching for the sky. The guys were supposed to be there a half hour before the meeting time to do some recon —that’s what they called it. Nipple hardening recon.
And there goes the knee, bobbing like I’m biking on a cobblestone road. My fidgeting and jitters are so much worse now that I can’t take my ADHD meds due to my pregnancy.
“You’re three mikes out,” Klein tells them.
Three minutes. Here we go.
“Already off to a fucked-up start,” Shep sounds off through the comms. “What else could possibly go wrong?”
Klein, Mia, Kri, and Big Al palm their foreheads, all of them groaning and grumbling.
Sue whips her head around, searching for a better explanation.“What?”
Boss Dad heaves a labored sigh. “You never say that before a mission. Never. It tempts fate like dangling raw meat in front of a tiger.”
Mia cackles, tossing her head back playfully. “Not all tigers eat meat, Boss. Some of us prefer cake.”
Boss Dad rolls out his neck and huffs. “Let’s hope our tiger of fate is fucking full tonight or a vegetarian.”