Page 16 of Stryker

“I disagree,” Strykersaid, his gaze traveling the length of John’s body.

Is that appreciation inthat look? Damn, what the hell is actually going onhere?

Stryker removed his jacket, revealingthe gun he had holstered to the waist of his jeans. John wasn’taverse to guns. Hell, he had one of his own stored in thecloset.

“Can I get you anythingbefore bed?” John asked.

“No, I’m good,” Strykerreplied.

“Well, if you wantsomething, feel free to look through the cupboards and fridge, butI can’t guarantee how much food I have in there. I typically eat atthe diner.” He’d never been concerned about the state of hisapartment until now.

“Don’t worry, I’m sureI’ll survive. I can do grocery shopping tomorrow after we meet withthe boss.” Stryker pulled off his shirt, and John nearly swallowedhis tongue. The man was ripped. Dirty thoughts sprung into hismind, and he swallowed.

“Grocery shopping? Ihaven’t done that in a while.” He shrugged. “Microwave meals ortakeout suits me fine.

“If we’re hunkering downhere, we’ll need some food. The less you’re out and about, thesafer you are,” Stryker stated. He grinned. “And maybe with medoing the shopping, we can get some good food into you – vegetablesand shit that’s good for you.”

John scowled. He wasn’t a fan ofvegetables. “So now I’m a prisoner in my own home?”

“Well, how did you dealwith it after you were shot? You had to be shaken up and cautiousof going out.”

“I was shaken up, sure,but I wasn’t going out of my way to be cautious.”

Stryker turned to look John straightin the eyes. “You weren’t cautious after your parents were killedand you were shot?”

John couldn’t help but look down. Howdid he put this diplomatically and in a way that didn’t make himappear crazy?

“In my frame of mind atthat time, I was kinda hoping the shooter would come back andfinish the job,” he said softly.

Stryker’s demeanor changed slightly,barely perceptible, but John noticed it.

“And now?” The tone ofStryker’s voice was measured.

“Now, I’d like to stickaround for at least as long as these stupid lungs will letme.”

Stryker’s stance eased slightly.“Good. Don’t ever wish to be dead. I’ve seen my fair share ofdeath, and it’s not where you want to go.”

By the look on Stryker’s face, thiswasn’t up for discussion, so John went in anotherdirection.

“What about work? I haveto go to the shop. I can’t disappear. We haven’t even officiallyopened yet. That’s next week, and I’m not canceling that. This isabout more than me. Jason is at stake. The whole business is atstake.”

He hadn’t changed his entire life topull back now. The store would open on time with or withoutStryker’s blessing.

“We’ll work that out. Butyou go nowhere without me.”

John huffed in frustration. Thingswere getting out of hand. It had been over two decades, and nothinghad happened to him. Why the hell would it start now because of astupid break in a case that would likely lead tonothing?

“Okay, fine. I’m going tohit the hay. Good night.” He needed a break from G.I.Joe.

“Good night,John.”

Having already set out extra beddingand a pillow for Stryker, John turned and walked into his bedroom,closing the door behind him. He pulled his T-shirt over his headand couldn’t help but glance at the mirror attached to his dresser.The scars had healed over time and weren’t quite as red and angryas they used to be. The hole where the bullet ripped through hisside, and the other lines where the surgeons went in to save hislife.

My road map, myhistory.

On the left side of his chest was atattoo he’d gotten when he turned twenty-one in honor of hisfather. The design was an original. He’d found it in his father’sbelongings after his parents’ deaths. His father enjoyed paintingand sketching and often told John it was a way for him todecompress after long tours and constant battles fought across theworld.

The design was composed of a series oflines, letters, and numbers, reminding John of hieroglyphics thathe’d seen in pictures of Egyptian tombs or something equally asancient. It was the last picture his father had ever sketched, andJohn wore it with pride. In a way, it felt like it connected thetwo of them even now. The worn original piece of paper containingthe drawing had been lost over the decades, but at least he had itslikeness forever.

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