“Honestly not sure how hungry I am,” Mark admitted, wondering if he could simply plead exhaustion, go face-plant in his bunk.
“You wanna head straight for the flask I’ve got hidden? Been a long-ass day for you, I’m sure.”
“I shouldn’t. LT’s going to need a report and debrief later. And I’m not much of a drinker anyway.”
“Come on. It’s stress relief. Which I think you’re in sore need of. Unless you wanna hear my other ideas on stress relief?”
Stress relief. Something about her words and her facial expression reminded him of an old memory. Isaiah. Cal’s cousin who’d been a friend for the wedding week but then had wanted to be more than a friend. Mark was transported back to Danielle’s wedding and a laughing Isaiah telling him he needed to unwind. His body tensed with the memory, pulse speeding up, same mix of longing and temptation coursing through him. You could have said yes.
But he hadn’t, and now he had six years of bumping into Isaiah over and over in spite of trying his hardest to avoid him. Avoid that memory. Avoid temptation. He’d seen him last when? He had to think for a second. Mark’s parents’ funeral for sure. Maybe briefly at the hospital when the latest kid was born, Isaiah there, as usual with a friend in tow. Some laughing gangly-legged kid who Mark had wanted to throat punch...
And fuck. Mark had to stop thinking about Isaiah. And temptation. And memories he worked to keep buried. Higgins was right in front of him, waiting for him to say something.
“Wizard?” Her head tilted. “Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere. I’m just bushed. Gonna crash soon.”
She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Want me to walk you back? You really do look like you’re about to keel over.”
Mark had no doubt she’d want to take the long way back, offer some more “stress relief.” Which if he were anyone else, anyone normal and sane, he’d be jumping to accept. She was nice, cute, and funny, low-drama and not looking for strings. Half the guys on the team would give up sleep for a week for a little attention from her.
He opened his mouth, honestly not sure what reply was about to pop out, what excuse he’d have to offer this time. But right then, the senior chief, the LT, and oh holy fuck, the base chaplain came bursting into the waiting area.
“Rogers?” he asked around the boulder in his throat. Fuck. He’d done everything, everything he could. What the fuck could he have done—
“They’re readying him for transport. But, Whitley, you’re going on that flight too.” The LT’s voice was as solemn as Mark had ever heard it.
He sank into one of the waiting room chairs. Even the LT called him Wizard, never using his last name, unless...
Unless someone had...
Air was in short supply and his lips tingled. “Who died?” he croaked.
Chapter Three
Isaiah needed to be alone in the worst way. And fuck it, he liked people, liked noise, liked big gatherings. But he was going to lose his shit again, and all he needed was the last of the helpers and casserole-bringers to leave, him to put on a video for the girls, get the baby in the pack-n-play, and then he could go lock himself in the bathroom for five minutes until the pressure in his sinuses eased. He’d emerge with red eyes but a clearer head, ready for the bedtime battle. Rinse and repeat. He’d been at this all week, compartmentalizing his grief and anger to those few stolen moments when he didn’t have to put on a face. Like now.
“Are you sure you’re going to be all right?” The woman—Rene or Rhea or Renee, he wasn’t quite sure, just that her kids went to the same school as Daphne—asked him as she stuck the pan of what looked like stuffed shells in the oven. “I really need to get the kids back home, but I could send over our housekeeper...”
“We’ll be fine.” Isaiah had gotten good at saying that this week, to the point that he almost sounded like he meant it.
“I heard the nanny quit right before...” She waved her hand, like there was a good euphemism for what had happened, a way to sugarcoat Danielle driving drunk, killing her and Cal when she tried to tango with a semi. And fuck, now he really needed that five minutes alone.
“They hadn’t had her that long anyway.” Isaiah sighed. Danielle and Cal had burned through nannies and au pairs the way some people went through laundry.
“Still. Call the agency. Get them to send over someone else. You shouldn’t be the one doing all this.”
“The kids know me. We’ll manage. I’m fine.” He was lying again, but he just needed her to leave.
“And they still haven’t located her brother?” The woman made a tsking sound that pretty much summed up Isaiah’s whole life right then.