Page 111 of Keeping a Warrior

Through the roaring in her ears, Devon heard Matt’s footsteps behind her, felt his warmth at her shoulder. She reached out and touched the picture again with a trembling finger. “Her father’s name is Jon, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Matt rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Jon Robinson. Shane and Alexis’s childhood friend, and Lex’s fiancé.”

Before she knew it, Devon was telling him everything, about her short-lived relationship with Jon and its aftermath.

When she finally trailed off, Matt squeezed her arms, his voice low and fierce. “It never ceases to amaze me, the emotional devastation this one dude managed to inflict.”

“And you know what’s really messed up?” she choked out. “That despite everything, I still cried when he died. I cried over him, Matt.”

With a sympathetic murmur, Matt pointed to another picture, one of him and Shane on the beach at sunset. He was sitting between Shane’s legs, his forearms draped over Shane’s upraised knees, Shane’s arms wrapped around Matt’s shoulders. The fading light caressed their profiles as they gazed out over the ocean, their faces relaxed, at peace.

“He did, too,” Matt said gently. “And let me tell you, that fucker almost destroyed him.”

“Does he—” Her voice broke. “Does Shane know about me and Jon? It’s his sister he was cheating on. With me.”

“I don’t know. We don’t talk about that asshole, Devon. It’s too painful for him.”

Devon could tell by his tone there was a lot more to the story, but she didn’t want to pry, didn’t really want to know.

Bowing her head, she squeezed her eyes shut, only to open them again when Matt kissed her temple. “But of all people, Shane knows who Jon was, what he was capable of. He knows what happened to you in Afghanistan, Devon. There’d never be any blame coming from him. For anything.”

Devon let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“In fact, when I talked to him just now, he asked me to give you this.” Spreading his arms, Matt waited for Devon to turn into the circle of them before wrapping them around her. “A big hug from Shane, okay? From me, too.” He cleared his throat, then said gruffly, “We love you.”

Clutching on to him, Devon dropped her forehead to his chest. “Thank God,” she rasped. “Because I need you both in my life. You have no idea how much.”

Matt smoothed his hand over Devon’s hair. “The fact you cried when he died? You were crying for an American who’d lost his life in service to his country. He died heroically, and for that, he’d earned every one of those tears. I think that’s what Shane tells himself, too.”

Squeezing him hard, Devon whispered, “Thank you, sweet friend.” She gave a watery chuckle. “I bet all this display of emotion is killing you, right?”

“You have no idea,” he said fervently. “I don’t bring Mushy Matt out all that often.”

Devon huffed a laugh. “Well, I think you’ve more than earned that run. Let’s—”

Before Matt could reply, a loud buzzing sounded from the kitchen. They both stiffened, and Matt patted her shoulder.

“I’ll be in the backyard if you need me.”

Her chest tight, Devon wiped her palms on the legs of her jeans, closed her eyes for a brief moment, and prayed for strength.

Then she answered the phone.

The grocery store was too bright. It had too many choices.

After months of only eating packaged MREs, the dizzying array of food laid out in aisle after endless aisle made Rhys feel slightly ill.

Do we really need twenty-seven brands of peanut butter to choose from? Jesus Christ.

Finally grabbing the nearest jar, he placed it carefully in his cart next to the white bread he’d just spent fifteen minutes staring at.

“Excuse me.”

An annoyed voice sounded off to Rhys’s left, and he whirled around to see a woman wearing a sweatshirt with a sequined kitten on it. “You’re taking up almost the whole aisle,” she snapped, glaring at him, “and I’d like to get to the peanut butter, too, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” he muttered, yanking his cart over to one side and enduring her annoyed huff as she grabbed a jar and tossed it inside a cart overflowing with food that would feed an Afghan villager for months.

Asshole.