Page 22 of Keeping a Warrior

Finessing the pedals with both feet, Devon kept the car steady as a rock. She missed the first cone by mere inches, then rocketed to a stop at the finish line with a screech of tires.

Rhys peeled his fingers one by one off the doorframe, his heart threatening to pound its way out his chest. When he’d caught his breath, he unbuckled his harness and leapt out of the car to jump around like an idiot.

“Holy shit, that was awesome,” he shouted. “Yeah! Fuck, yeah!”

To his intense disappointment—and maybe a little secret relief—he wasn’t assigned that same course.

“Too difficult,” Les pronounced. “We’re gonna start you out slower.”

Most of the guys started out slower, and none of them passed the advanced course that first day. Only Devon.

It was a tired but happy group that made their way back to their transient quarters.

“In a couple of days we’ll get into some rally driving,” Les told Rhys and Devon. “That’s driving on unpredictable surfaces, like loose gravel and water. There’ll be some off-roading, some hill climbing and winching. You’re scheduled to jump tomorrow and Tuesday, so get some rest, young ’uns.”

A few of the guys were making plans for dinner, and probably the strip club again, but Rhys begged off. He was tired and sore, and he wanted to jerk off in the shower and then go to sleep—the world’s best stress relief.

All those plans went to hell when he checked his phone and saw a missed call from Lani. What? They’d agreed to no contact during the month he was gone, so why would she be calling him?

Then he saw the date.

Damn.

He immediately hit redial. When she answered, her voice was low and hoarse. “Hey.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” The endearment was automatic, and it sprang from a deep well of sorrow and guilt that Rhys had long given up trying to understand. He shouldn’t feel guilty, what’d happened with her brother Tyler wasn’t his fault, but there was a part of him that’d always wondered...

Could he have done more?

“You hanging in there?” He kept his voice achingly gentle.

“Yeah.” Lani took in a tremulous breath. “I wasn’t going to call you, I swear. But then my mom...”

Slumping on the bed, Rhys dropped his head into one hand, held his phone up to his ear with the other, and let Lani talk it out. He relived that awful day with her all over again, listened to her agonize over the choices she’d made, the things she’d said to Tyler.

All he could do was reiterate that it wasn’t her fault.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I know I shouldn’t have called you.”

Closing his eyes, Rhys swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s okay, Lani. I just—”

I hate that I can’t fix this. I’m never going to be able to fix this.

“If my mom hadn’t called, I think I would’ve been okay.” Now she sounded wrung out, exhausted, and it tore at Rhys’s heart.

“You want me to take emergency leave and come home—”

“God, no!” she burst out, her voice stronger. “I’ll be fine. I scheduled a bunch of extra shifts in advance so I’d be keeping busy.”

They talked a few minutes more, and after they’d hung up, Rhys stood and wandered restlessly to the window, his gut churning. He hadn’t thought much about her the last couple of days because he’d been so busy himself. It actually felt good to get a little physical and emotional distance.

But is she really okay?

Worry still roiling through him, and knowing he’d end up calling her back if he stayed in his room brooding, Rhys shucked his filthy, sweaty jeans and pulled on some shorts and a fresh shirt. He crammed his feet in a pair of flip-flops before making his way outside to wander aimlessly across the parking lot toward the acrid smell of a cigar.

It was Les, leaning against the hood of his pickup truck. “You want a smoke?”

“No, thanks.”