Page 43 of The Story of Danny Rose

Thankfully, he had a full day planned. It would keep him distracted. He had his first target practice, which I was sure he’d ace, and then he had classes. He and Reese had agreed to join River to learn Spanish. Well, in Danny’s case, it was more of a matter of choosing a particular region to go from fluent to local expert.

CHAPTER 8

“ANavy bar?” I made a face.

Paul chuckled and opened the door. “I was in the Navy, asshole.”

“Don’t remind me.” I walked in and stifled a yawn. What I really wanted was some shitty Chinese food or pizza delivered to my equally shitty hotel room, but Paul wanted to go out.

I couldn’t blame him either. He’d been stuck with MREs and desert food for a month and a half. Now he was back on US soil and wanted…bar food.

And it waspackedin here. Fuck.

“We did your errand. Now we do mine.” Paul grinned and walked past me.

I huffed and looked down at the little plush toy in my grip. I’d ducked into a store; it’d taken me five minutes. Something told me we’d be in this bar for quite a while longer.

Getting a table was out of the question, so we’d have to eat at the bar.

I ordered us two pints while Paul went to the head. Again. He’d had stomach problems since I’d arrived in Afghanistan, pretty much.

Despite the ruckus around me—from sailors who were clearly visiting the port, not stationed here permanently—it was easy to sink into my mind, where it was quiet and still. I was simply too exhausted to register the laughter, the glasses clinking, the pissing contests, and the back pounding.

I stared at the stuffie on the bartop and took a swig of my beer.

Fifteen days was much too long to go without Danny. My God, had he changed me.

Before I’d recruited the twins, I’d been used to longer assignments. A month or two, sometimes three. Being on my own hadn’t bothered me much either. Granted, I met up with other contractors from time to time. Like I’d done with Paul now. We’d finished the job he’d started. I’d led the way to a safe area for him and his interpreter.

I’d kept my promise to Danny too. Not a single scratch.

Part of me was dying to find the nearest pay phone so I could call him, but I knew it would make the longing worse. Besides, we were initially supposed to be dropped in Florida. Then we’d landed in Germany and gotten a ride from the Marines instead, bringing us to Norfolk. Much closer to home.

I could last… I checked my watch. Hm. Some eighteen hours…? Thereabouts. And then I’d have him in my arms again.

Hopefully, he’d like the toy. It was a golden retriever.

I’d gone into the store utterly clueless—I’d just seen the displays for those Beanie Babies, and I’d decided to get him one. Then I’d arrived in the right aisle, and I’d stood there a solid minute or two, wondering what the fuck I was doing. Until I’d spotted this one.

If I was his first rescue dog, this could be his second.

“For your kid?”

I turned toward the voice, coming from a young man seated next to me. Definitely a sailor.

“Something like that.” I grabbed the toy and stuck it into the inner pocket of my jacket.

“Do you realize it’s the middle of summer?” He smirked.

Yes, well. I wasn’t going to explain to him that a ride home in a C-130 was cold as fuck or that a jacket was the best way to conceal weapons or, frankly, that I’d been too exhausted and scatterbrained when we’d left the hotel. I’d grabbed my jacket out of habit.

Most contractors I knew had one weak spot, myself very much included. And it was the two or three days that followed an assignment. When we got home and landed mentally, we were…not really present. We were tired, a bit spaced-out, and thick in the head.

“Only a sailor would focus on what others are wearing,” was my clever retort.

He grinned and let out a laugh. “Damn, man. I should’ve stayed on the ship.”

Possibly.

---