24
Spence
Ispeak to Abigail for a full thirty minutes while Jay, Romeo, and Soph fuck around with their new toys; Soph ordered high-tech scopes for Jay’s Winchester. They were courteous enough not to shoot off any rounds while I was on the phone, but the second I hang up, it begins again.
One shot. Two. Three.
Jay hits bottles of water he lined along a log more than twelve-hundred yards away. He’s getting better at his shots. More accurate. Less problem with the wind. And he’s showing off for Romeo, a type of alpha show he’s putting on because he’s jealous of the relationship Romeo and Soph have.
There is no relationship beyond work. No sexual chemistry. No reason to feel threatened. But it’s what Jay does. It’s his way of showing love. So he challenges her muscle on everything we do.
Romeo wants to eat a burger for lunch? Jay will eat two. Romeo wants to make an eleven-hundred-yard shot? Jay will make twelve hundred yards. Romeo wants to fuck a girl in his downtime and make the walls rattle? I’m the idiot in the center room breathing through what may be the world’s bluest pair of balls.
I’m the only person here not getting laid. The only one who can’t see the person he wants to see. I’m the guy that they all tiptoe around, because I’m about to explode if they make sex noises against the wall again.
“Serrano.” A thick chest steps into my vision and blocks the bright sun from my eyes. He wears what I wear; black shirt, dog tags, combat boots, and camo pants despite the fact we’re not actually in the forest or looking for cover.
It’s habit, I think. Because he’s as much a soldier as I am.
I’ve found my match in height, weight, skill, humor, hunger. And the irony is, we’ve served together before. It was so long ago, I hadn’t given him any more thought. It was another time for me, another world. We served, he saved my life, and I saved his. He stopped a bullet from sliding through my back, and I stopped a knife coming for his throat. We don’t feel indebted to each other, but we feel a kinship that I never expected.
“Having a nap?”
I chuckle and look up into the blue sky. “Nah, talking to my girl.” I haven’t told him who my girl is. Because I don’t feel like he needs to know. Not yet, anyway. “She wanted to hang out for a minute, and since you yahoos are only fucking around…”
“How serious are you about this girl? Because two months is a long time, and I know chicks that could help you take the edge off.”
“No thanks. I’m stuck, so keep your floozies to yourself. I’m going home to mine soon, then you guys can listen to me fuck two months out of my system.” I turn when he lowers to the ground and lays back to study the sky. “I’ll call out your name when I come.”
He barks out a laugh and slams a fist into my chest. “Don’t do that, man. Don’t ruin a perfectly good friendship because you’re a freak.”
“I miss her.” And there I go, being weird anyway. “I miss her so much I can hardly breathe. I think that means something.”
He gives a thoughtful nod and crosses his ankles. “I think if you can feel it in your gut, legitimately feel like something is missing when you’re away, then you’re probably right. She’s important, so no floozies for you.”
Chuckling, I rest my hands on my stomach and ignore Jay’s loud gunshots. “She’s definitely important. She called me just now, she’s with her friend.” I turn to him. “She’s so fuckin’ sick.”
His dark eyes snap to mine. “Your girl is sick?”
“No. Her friend. She’s really fuckin’ sick, and it scares me, because my girl cares so deeply. I’ve seen this show before, I’ve seen what that sickness does to a person, and I’m scared for my girl when–” I pause, “Well,ifreality smacks them in the face. I don’t want the friend to hurt, and I don’t want my girl to hurt.”
“What kinda sickness?”
The word hurts as it moves off my tongue, but in my peripherals, blue wings flutter between us for just a moment. A beautiful butterfly draws my attention and helps me say the one word that has the power to bring me to my knees.
“Cancer.”
Predictably, his lips firm. His eyes harden. “People survive cancer every single day, Serrano. It’s a savage disease and tears a body apart, but it’s not guaranteed death. The friend is strong enough. She can beat it.”
I nod and turn back to study the sky. “She’s young. My girl showed me a picture of her friend from before she was sick. She was healthy and vibrant, athletic and smiley.”
“She’ll make it.” His tone implies he’s done discussing this.
And I can’t even get mad. I don’t wanna discuss it either.
“What’s your girl’s name?”
“Nunya.”