Page 5 of The Story of Danny Rose

Good to know he wasn’t completely unfazed.

He still composed himself quickly, but I detected something in his gaze. Apprehension, maybe. He was gonna think twice about pushing the envelope, at least.

“I’ll behave,” he rasped.

Fuck.

Those words.

I clenched my jaw.

I’ll behave.

A rush of heat rolled through me. Maybe through him too. Or I was imagining it.Fuck. No. Back off. I backed off, rattled and irritated, and put some distance between us. Whatever I’d felt was gone. It’d been nothing.

He coughed and eyed me.

“How long have you been searching for me?” I demanded.

He didn’t answer at first, though he better fucking know my patience for bullshit was nonexistent. I wanted to know how…dedicated he was.

“On and off for two years. In between deployments.”

Bloody hell, that was some grudge—or whatever the hell he’d sought me out for. Unless my memory was shot, I’d spent two months with his team approximately two years ago. One Special Forces ODA was just twelve men strong, each team member specialized in their own way, resulting in more time one-on-one. A stark contrast from when the military brought me in to speak at a seminar to a whole battalion over a week. The two months I’d stayed with Danny’s detachment, we’d seen each other almost every day. We’d camped out in the field together, shared most meals together, and I’d been there for every time he lashed out.

“A year to find a single person who would confirm your identity and give me something else to go on,” he elaborated. “A couple months after that, I was introduced to Kane Goddard.”He shrugged. “Once you know the language, you understand what’s being said on the grapevine.”

Kane. I’ll be damned. Another former SAS operator who’d trained in the US. And he knew my brother as well. So that was the link. He would never give anything up aboutme, but sure, he might’ve let Danny know how to get into contact with Arden.

“And now you’ve left the Army,” I stated.

“About a year ago, yeah. Why? Does that bother you?” he countered.

Absofuckinglutely, it did. At least when he was surrounded by his team members, he had a better chance at surviving. They complemented one another. Had one another’s backs. Out on his own, however…? Fuck. I worried he would go private.

If he did, it’d be my fucking fault.

“You do whatever the fuck you want with your life.” Needing time to get my shit together, I walked away from him and headed to the other side of the cabin. I kept my grill and patio furniture stashed there.

First things first. I didn’t want more information from Danny until I’d spoken to Arden. I needed it to get a better read on Danny’s responses and expressions. In other words, soon as the twins returned, I was heading back to town.

While I waited, I hauled the grill and the Adirondack chairs to the front corner of the porch where I had more space. I also racked my brain for what stories I’d shared with Danny and his team. I knew I’d made at least one mistake, and I believed it could be the reason he was here now. Truth be told, there could be several reasons, and I had to make plans for them all.

One, he was angry. They didn’t bring me in to be nice. I’d trained soldiers to become better at surviving and giving nothing away. And I’d been hard on Danny. Really fucking hard. Because he had that temper—and I’d rather be the one who pushed himin his place than have some terrorist in a godforsaken country behead him.

Two, he wanted to prove himself. I’d never met anyone as competitive as Danny Rose. It wouldn’t shock me if he wanted to challenge me in some way.

Three, he could be jealous. Though, that wouldn’t have been his original reason for looking me up. But once he’d learned enough about me and he’d discovered I was training the twins, that could very well have fueled him. Which led me to the fourth possibility.

Four, he wanted to go private.

We’d gone off the grid one week. Nowhere near Fort Campbell and everything they were familiar with, we’d hiked in northern Canada’s interior. Through snow and rough terrain, with little food and resources, heavy backpacks. The soldiers had been pushed to the limits and beyond. They’d been exhausted, mentally wrung out, and starving. So the other two superiors and I had surprised them after a ten-mile trek. We’d prepared a better camp upon their return. Proper tents, roaring fire to heat them up, dry clothes, coffee, rabbit stew, cornbread, and whisky.

A part of Special Forces training was to see how soldiers reacted to rewards. If it weakened their resolve, if they were simply happy, if it kept them on edge, if they relaxed and lowered their guards…

Danny didn’t trust easily. A great thing in the field—but emotionally draining. He’d eaten and taken advantage like the rest of his team, with the exception that he’d remained guarded. Observant. Quiet, even.

We had shared stories with the boys. Stories of battles, operations, experiences. It was always a good way to connect with soldiers, to tie stronger bonds. And since I was the anomaly in the American military with my British history, the soldiers soaked up my tales that differed from the others’ in some ways.

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