22. Chapter 22
Chapter twenty-two
Pony
After stowing my gear, I head to my car. I don’t even bother showering or changing. I just want to get out of here.
Sliding behind the wheel, I scrub my hands over my face. I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept in more than twenty-four hours. I’m worried about Ricochet. And finding, rescuing, and seeing Remi again has fucked with my head.
I keep wondering how she ended up in Venezuela, why she was captured and tortured, and what her kidnappers wanted from her.
The drive home feels longer than usual. When I pull into my driveway, Sherry’s standing next to her car, waiting for me while scrolling on her phone. How did she know we’d returned from our spin up?
When I met Sherry, I’d been trying to get past my Remi obsession.
It’s possible I jumped into something else too soon.
Now that I’ve gotten to know her a little better, I’ve begun to realize we don’t have much in common.
At first, she was fun and understanding.
Now, we fight all the time and it feels like she doesn’t seem to like me very much.
It has me wondering why she’s stuck around.
Things might’ve been different if we hadn’t been on back-to-back-to-back missions in the short time since I met her. Because of that, Sherry and I have only managed to go out on a handful of dates and haven’t spent much time together.
When I exit my car, the first thing out of her mouth is accusatory. “You’ve been gone forever. Where have you been?”
We’ve only been gone two days.
“I can’t tell you, Sherry. You know that,” I answer, grabbing my pack from the backseat.
“Of course you can tell me. I’m your girlfriend, we don’t keep secrets from each other,” she argues.
I’m not sure our limited dating experience qualifies us as boyfriend and girlfriend, but I’m too tired to correct her.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Quick, change out of this horrible uniform. We’re going out.”
That’s the last thing I want to do. “I just got back.”
A flicker of a frown appears on her face. “And now that you’re here, you can take me out.”
I release a heavy sigh. “No, Sherry. I’m not in the mood.”
“You’re never in the mood.” She crosses her arms. “You disappear. You never tell me where you are or who you’re with. Now you won’t even take me out. What about me?”
One of the main reasons relationships with SEALs fail is how frequently we’re spun up, often on a moment’s notice.
We travel to locations we can’t disclose for unknown lengths of time to perform activities we can’t talk about.
While there’s nothing I can do about the constraints of my career, I’ve tried to be understanding with Sherry’s frustration.
But tonight, I’m in no mood to have this conversation again.
“I’m not sneaking around behind your back, Sherry. This is my job. There are things I’ll never be able to discuss with you. You know that.”
This isn’t the first time we’ve had this disagreement. Sherry likes the bragging rights of being with a SEAL, so long as the job doesn’t interfere with her plans. But I’ve come to realize the job itself annoys her.
I can’t deal with Sherry right now. All I want is to be alone. “I’m not trying to ignore you. This op was a ballbuster and I just want to shower and sleep.” It isn’t a lie.
Her response is huffy, “I’ll go without you.”
“That’s a great idea. Have fun,” I tell her, opening her car door for her before she can change her mind.
Her bottom lip juts out in a pout. “Fine. But we’re going to talk about this later.” Then she flounces into her car and speeds away.
Once her taillights disappear, I release a deep exhale and head inside. After dropping my go bag, I take a hot shower, brush my teeth, and climb into bed.
I think about Remi all alone in the hospital, then reprimand myself. It’s not fair to Sherry that I’m distracted by another woman. Remington James is not my responsibility, and from now on, I’m determined to stay away from her.