Page 13 of Theta

"Ehhhboy," Killian says in a simpering tone. "There’s the ick."

I cackle. "You could say that, yes. When I say he was possessive and insecure, I mean that he legitimately demanded that I get myself assigned to an all-female department."

A stunned silence. "That…that doesn't exist. Does it?"

My laughter is all the answer that's needed, really. "No," I say, eventually. "It's not a thing. He was just wildly insecure about the fact that I worked with a lot of handsome and successful men who made more money than he did. We went to a Christmas party together, and when he saw me joking around with a doctor who happens to be a carbon copy of Brad Pitt from Legends of the Fall, he lost his shit. Ricky happens to be as gay as I am straight, not that that matters. I joke around exactly the same way with Mike, another nurse, who’s just as good-looking in a different way, and straight, and single. But Jocko couldn't handle that. He couldn’t trust me when I said I'm not interested in Mike or Ricky. He wasn't content with the fact that I left the hospital after my shift and went home to him. His insecurity was stronger than his trust, and it made him irrational."

"That sucks."

It's not what I expected him to say. I'm not sure what I did expect, but not that. "Yeah, it did suck. Because he was a good guy, until all that opened up. Sweet, and very kind to me. He just couldn't understand…me, I guess."

"I'm not sure your average, run-of-the-mill civilian can understand people who've grown up like us, Story," he says, his tone slow and thoughtful. "You even more so because of what you've been through."

"You don't consider yourself a civilian?" I ask.

"Uhhh? I dunno. Sort of? Not really? I'm aware I’m not military, so I know I’m a civilian in that sense, but I also know I have more in common with a soldier than a civilian." A thoughtful pause. "I guess I just mean…normies. Y'know? People who grow up…" he trails off, starts over. "People who didn't grow up field-stripping Glocks blindfolded and clearing rooms and surviving in the wilderness with a lighter, a knife, a canteen, and a reel of fishing line."

I can't help butx laugh at this. "Yeah, we definitely didn't grow up anything like normal. So I suppose you have a point in that someone who didn’t grow up like we did or who hasn’t experienced any of the stuff we have just can’t understand us. Not deep down."

“And the people who do get it," Killian says, "are few and far between."

"Sounds like you're talking from experience."

He sighs heavily. “Yeah."

When he doesn't elaborate, I elbow him. "C'mon, Killy. I told you stuff I've never told anyone."

"Cal has this ability to pretend like he's this totally normal dude when he's around people our age, or girls he's interested in. He tells these wild stories and has everyone hanging on every word, but then he's just your buddy. So relatable, so cool, so charming. You wouldn't know how fast he can strip and reassemble an MP5 blindfolded. You wouldn't know he can clear a room, skydive, and all the shit we can do. I mean, you meet some guy who’s in the Army, yeah, okay, cool, you expect that kind of training. Cal is clearly not that guy. But then…he actually is."

"I'm not seeing the—"

"I feel like that shit is written on a sign and stapled to my forehead. It comes up in conversation, even when I try to avoid talking about who my parents are, or that one of history’s richest men is like a second father to me, or how we grew up. And people don’t get that shit. They just don’t get it."

"Who didn't get it, Killy?"

A long, harsh sigh. "Helena McMurtry. Her parents upped sticks when she was sixteen and moved her and her siblings down to St. John. I dated her for almost a year and a half starting when I was eighteen, almost nineteen. I think the only reason our relationship even lasted as long as it did is that we didn’t get to see each other very often. Like, there wasn't a lot of distance between us as the crow flies, but you're talking about island to island, y'know?"

"No, Killian, I do not. I didn't grow up on a private island compound in the Caribbean." I find and pat his knee.

"That's what broke us up, actually," he says, his tone wry. "I was…I'd been pretty vague about my family and where I lived. I always went to see her, because it's not like I could just invite any girl I wanted to my house. There are security protocols in place. Cal breaks them all the time with his girls and our buddies, but then, Cal can sort of get away with it, to a degree."

"Uncle Val has always had a bit of a blind spot where Cal is concerned," I say. "Or maybe soft spot is more accurate."

"Yeah, trust me, I know." I sigh. "Well, Helena eventually got tired of me being vague about things and wanted to see where I lived. So I convinced Dad and Uncle Val to let me bring her over."

"Didn't go well?"

"She freaked."

"At what?" I ask.

He laughs. “Hell, everything. Sasha and Uri in the RHIB coming up on our flank as we approached the island freaked her out. Seeing guards carrying automatic weapons all over the island freaked her out. Meeting Uncle Val and Aunt Kyrie freaked her out."

"Well, to be fair, to the uninitiated, those things are a lot. It's always an adjustment for me, the first few days after I come down, and I'm on the inside of the circle."

"I know, believe me. I tried to warn her to have an open mind and stuff, but how do you prepare someone for the compound?"

I laugh. "You don't."