Men and women in the military are pitifully underpaid.
Another bonus of this particular job is working with men who were either on my SEAL team, or were experts in other branches of the military.
Only the best of the best work here.
The training compound is twenty minutes south of Seattle in a remote area, away from businesses and residential homes. I park my car and walk into the main building to check my mail and check in with the owner.
“What’s up, Mongtomery?” Jim Peterson nods from his office. He and I were on SEAL team five together ten years ago. He’s a scary man when he wants to be, and knows his shit.
“Hey, man,” I respond and shake his hand. “Sorry to leave you short handed.”
He shrugs. “It’s fine. Markinson is taking the classes on the days you’re out. He’s not as good as you, but we’re muddling through.”
“Thanks.”
He nods once and points to the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”
“Why do I feel like I’m being called the principal’s office?” I smirk as I sit in the chair and cross one ankle over the opposite knee.
“How are things?” He asks, his face serious.
“Fine.”
“Bullshit,” he counters.
I sigh deeply and scrub my hands over my face. “Do I look that bad?”
“Worse,” he responds with a laugh. “I haven’t seen you look this shitty since Columbia.” His smile fades as we stare at each other, remembering the particularly dangerous mission in Columbia almost a decade ago, when we were supposed to rescue three American women who were being held hostage by the Columbian drug cartel.
The mission was FUBAR before we ever set boots on Columbian soil.
“Nightmares,” I sigh and shrug and Peterson nods in understanding.
“There are people to talk to about that, you know.”
I shrug and exhale. “I’m okay. I’ve been doing better. Last night was just rough.”
He stares at me for along moment. “Okay. Have you talked to Kramer lately?” He asks, mercifully changing the subject. Kramer is another former teammate who also lives in the area and trains military working dogs for SEALs now.
“Not in a while. What’s up?” I ask.
“He has to leave town for about a month for an assignment. He needs to find a place for Bix while he’s gone.”
“How is Bix?” I ask and grin as I think of the dog. Loyal, fearless and one of the best sailors I’ve had the pleasure of working with.
“He’s good. He’s not deployable.” Peterson grimaces and shakes his head. “But he’s good. Do you think you could take him for a few weeks?”
“I’ll see what I can do. I’d better get out to the guys.” I stand and shake his hand. “Thanks, sir.”
“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”
***
~Brynna~
“Show me,” Matt commands from behind the steering wheel as I settle in the passenger seat.
“Show you what?” I ask.
He cocks an eyebrow and watches me with those amazing Montgomery blue eyes, hands laced and resting in his lap.
“I won’t ask again,” he murmurs calmly and never breaks eye contact with me.
It’s unnerving.
I cast my eyes down and pull my red turtle-neck away from my throat, showing him the bruise and then quickly replace it and pull my seatbelt on.
“How did you know?” I ask, not meeting his gaze.
He starts the car, throws it into gear, and zooms out of the parking lot with more force than I expect, given his calm demeanor.
“Caleb called me,” he responds quietly and glances over at me. “Talk to me.”
“I’m fine.”
“Talk to me.”
His voice is firm, not to be reckoned with. I sigh in defeat and sag in the seat, dropping my face in my hands.
“It was horrible,” I whisper. “Scared me.”
He rests his hand on my thigh and squeezes reassuringly. “Has he had nightmares with you before?”
“Never,” I reply immediately, shaking my head adamantly. “He sleeps hard. Soundly.”
“Really?” Matt asks, looking at me in surprise. “He hasn’t slept well in a long time.”
“He hasn’t had an issue with me,” I reply. “Until last night. But it was… different.”
“Different how?” He asks.
“He had fallen asleep on the couch, watching war shows on the History Channel. When I woke up, I heard gunfire and cannons and Caleb was in the middle of the nightmare.”
“So it didn’t come on while he was in bed with you.” He shifts his Jeep down as we turn onto the street where the girls go to school.
“No, he was on the couch.”
“Interesting.” I turn and watch Matt silently. He’s in a white button-down and jeans, his pistol is resting in a holster on his hip. His light brown hair is in need of a haircut, and he didn’t shave today, leaving a light stubble on his chin.
His left elbow is resting on the door and he’s rubbing his fingers over his lips.
“How did you wake him up?” He asks.
“I kneed him in the thigh,” I respond. He winces and chuckles ruefully.
“That’ll do it.” He grins over at me and then sobers. “How do you feel today?” He asks softly.
“My voice was a bit hoarse this morning, but other than that, I feel fine.”
“Don’t be obtuse, Bryn. How do you feel?”
He’s just not going to cut me a break.
“Exhausted. Relieved.” I swallow and stare down at my knees. “So in love with him I can’t see straight,” I whisper.
“Look at me.”
My eyes find his as he offers me a gentle smile. “I think you’ll be really good for each other. Give it time.”
I nod just as the girls come running to the car.
“Hi mom!” Josie calls and scoots in to buckle her seatbelt.
“Hi Matt,” Maddie grins as she joins her sister.
“Hi guys,” I smile back at them as Matt pulls away from the school and heads toward home.
“How was your day?” Matt asks.
“Caleb hurt Mommy last night,” Josie responds. I gasp and stare back at her with my jaw dropped.
“He did?” Matt asks and shakes his head slightly at me, telling me to not respond and let him handle it.
Just kill me now.
“Yeah, he wouldn’t let her up off the floor,” Josie responds.