Page 51 of Keeping a Warrior

“That ‘little shit’ is a damn good shot. Has he been to sniper school?”

“How should I know?” Shane snapped. “I don’t keep track of what he does.”

O-kay.

Rhys flapped his hand at him and sank back into the leaves. When the pain became more manageable, he cautiously pushed to sitting. “Argh,” he moaned, wrapping an arm around himself. “Cracked a rib for sure.”

Shane got up and limped toward him, rubbing his thigh. “I can’t believe he shot me,” he muttered. “Anyone else shoots me, fine, whatever. Him? No way.”

Rhys wanted to laugh. If this was how the two of them had been while they were in BUD/S together, it’s no wonder their relationship had turned into the world’s worst-kept secret.

Shane lowered himself to sitting, and Rhys directed him to turn so they could put their backs together and hold each other up. They slumped there for what seemed like hours until their radios crackled to life.

“What’d it say?”

“We’re supposed to get to the road so we can be picked up.” Shane used Rhys’s shoulders to push to standing, and then he reached down to haul Rhys to his feet. “Let’s go.”

Slowly they picked their way over to the winding dirt road, and it wasn’t long until a filthy white pickup skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust. They climbed into the bed and someone tossed them each a bottle of sports drink, which Rhys guzzled in one huge gulp.

Back at the training center, after enduring a long-winded debrief by the powers-that-be, they were all released to find their quarters, but not before a strong suggestion was made that they appear at an informal banquet that evening celebrating the end of Robin Sage.

“Mandatory fun,” Smudge grumbled as they trudged to find their rooms. “My favorite.”

Once inside, Rhys plugged in his phone and climbed into the shower, making the water as hot as he could stand. As he washed, he gingerly explored the huge welt on his side where the sim round had hit him.

No cracked rib, just deeply bruised, was his final conclusion. The drink and hot shower had already worked wonders. Now all he needed was some food, a lot of it, and he’d feel almost human again. Rhys dressed in a pair of clean—though rumpled—black jeans and a soft forest-green Henley, and he stuck his now fully charged phone in his pocket.

The banquet hall was a short walk away along a pleasant tree-lined street, where he found the rest of the platoon milling restlessly about.

“Just a beer and my bed, dude,” someone complained. “That’s all I want.”

“Free food, man. Free food.”

There were knuckle bumps and bro hugs for those who hadn’t seen each other in over a week, and Rhys found himself craning his neck for a glimpse of Devon. When he finally caught sight of her walking down the street toward them, his heart gave a thump, and he headed to meet her, thinking, wow.

She was wearing a simple outfit of dark jeans and shimmery purple blouse, but she’d styled her thick brown hair so that it fell around her shoulders in soft waves. Smoky eyeshadow and mascara enhanced her big brown eyes, and those lips...

Clearing his throat, Rhys stuck his hands in his pockets and waited until she stopped alongside him. “Hey. You look nice.”

“Thanks. It feels good to dress up a little.” She made a show of looking him up and down. “You look pretty okay yourself. For a dead guy.”

Rhys spread his arms and grinned. “I made a miraculous recovery.”

“You really did. I’m impressed.”

“Enough to buy me a drink?” Rhys could’ve kicked himself as the flirtatious words slipped out, but Devon only laughed.

“You got it.”

The cash bar was doing a brisk business when they got inside, and before long Rhys found himself holding a mug of Amstel Light while Devon ordered a ginger ale. They touched their glasses together with a clink.

“You’re not having anything stronger?” Rhys asked, rubbing his still-aching ribs. “I think we all deserve it.”

Her gaze skittered away. “Nah, I don’t drink at work functions anymore. It’s...safer.”

“Drinking with the guys, a real party girl, you know?”

At the memory of Mullet’s hissed words, Rhys’s own beer suddenly tasted a little less delicious.