Page 18 of Trusting a Warrior

Another pause, and behind Geo, the yelling escalated even more. He gripped the phone tighter and strained to hear, his heart threatening to pound its way out of his chest.

Lani’s voice wobbled the tiniest bit. “I had a complete emotional breakdown a few days ago, and after I stopped crying, I called my OB’s office. They were able to recommend a therapist. Did you know there are some who specialize in suicide survivors? I didn’t either. But yep, there are, and I made an appointment for Thursday next week. I know myself, though, and I know when that day comes, I will not want to go through with it.”

Geo could only sit frozen, his whole body numb with shock.

“So what I’m going to do is I’m gonna remember our walk on the beach. I’m going to remember that I shared with you a tiny bit of my fear, and how darn good that felt afterward.”

A long pause.

“Anyway, I just wanted you to know how grateful I am for everything you did that night. I, uh, well, I guess that’s it. Bye.”

The message ended.

Holy. Christ.

Memories that Geo was desperate to keep buried fought to rise to the surface and, his stomach roiling with nausea, he jammed his finger on the window button and powered it down. Although it wasn’t refreshing, the blast of hot desert air hitting his face helped clear his head. It also distracted the other guys from their brawl.

“Hey, Rocco, how ’bout a goddamn piss break?” a few strident voices yelled from the rear of the van.

The driver shook his head. “I said no breaks, didn’t I? Use some of that shit rolling around on the floor.”

“Aww, c’mon! Bastard.”

A few more mutters of disgust, and then a blessed quiet fell as bruised and bloodied SEALs attempted to pee into the various cans and bottles they found littering the floor of the government van.

“Hey,” the driver hissed at Geo. “Watch this.”

Geo glanced over at Rocco, a tall Latino guy whose baby-faced good looks belied years of combat experience and a razor-sharp tactical mind. His brown eyes were full of mischief, the light in them telling Geo exactly what he was about to do. Gripping the door handle, Geo braced his feet, and sure enough, Rocco jerked the wheel to the side. The van rocked violently as it swerved onto the shoulder.

Outraged yells from the back. “Son of a bitch! You made me piss myself!”

Rocco roared with laughter as an acrid, unmistakable smell filled the air.

“Fuck, I’m covered with it! You’re gonna pay, asshole!”

Geo glanced over his shoulder, unable to keep from snickering at the sight of his teammates frantically blotting at the urine splashed on the seats and themselves.

He fished some more napkins from the console and helpfully tossed them back.

Next to him, Rocco pounded the steering wheel with the heel of his hand and shouted, “Gotcha, muhfuckahs!”

The furious muttering behind him made Geo wince. It might not be today, it might not be tomorrow, but in the near future Rocco was gonna find himself duct-taped to a tree somewhere, and if he was really, really lucky, they’d let him keep his clothes.

Rocco met his eyes and shrugged. “Worth it,” he mouthed before directing his attention back to the road.

Shaking his head in both disgust and amusement, Geo turned to stare out the window at the relentlessly brown landscape flashing past. Every SEAL, at one point or another in his career, found himself duct-taped to a fixed object. For him, it’d been—

Geo struggled to keep it closed, but his mental box of Cade memories burst open.

“Get ’em!”

A vicious tackle, and Geo crashed to the floor of the hotel room. All around him came the crunch of fists on flesh, the sound of bodies slamming into furniture, into walls. Geo kicked, punched and fought, but soon found himself trussed hand and foot and tossed next to Cade, both of them stripped to the waist.

Shouting, laughing team guys poured liquor down their throats, and drew on their chests with Sharpies. When the women finally burst in with outraged screams, they discovered Geo and Cade thoroughly shit-faced and covered with crude Sharpie penises.

Cade’s fiancée, Renae, put her hands on her hips and glared around the room. “You fucking assholes,” she grated. “Cut them loose. Now.”

Like chastened little boys, the SEALs obeyed, and Geo rubbed the blood flow back into his wrists as Renae yanked Cade to his feet.