Page 21 of Navy Daddy

“Yeah, we have,” Oscar Carlisle shouts between cupped hands.

“And though it’s been one hell of a night, full of laughter, love, and that little niggling of sorrow because you’re leaving, the lastbell’s been rung, final rounds on the table, and it’s time to say goodbye,” Trent continues, ignoring the interruption.

“God, you’re putting that drama degree to good use, aren’t you?” Clarissa rolls her eyes, teasing her partner.

“Why wouldn’t I? Spent years working for it.” He blows her a kiss. “But know that even with our last goodbyes, this isn’t the end of our story, Eva.” Trent grabs his beer off the table and raises it high in the air. “It’s the start of another thrilling chapter. And this sorry lot, hell, we’re gonna miss you.”

Tears well in my eyes, and try as I might to stop them, they run down my cheeks and mess up my mascara regardless. The last few weeks have been hard. Between preparations to leave the country and Arthur’s brutal training, I’ve barely had time to sleep, let alone think. But sitting here with the closest friends I’ll probably ever have, I’m filled to the brim with joy.

They give three cheers, as is custom after a rousing speech, and Clarissa throws her arms over my shoulders to give me a big bear hug.

“It’s only two years,” I sniffle and wipe away my tears. My cheeks are starting to hurt from the smile that hasn’t left since Trent started speaking.

“Two years too many. And who says you’re ever coming back?” He chuckles, takes a long swig from his bottle, and drops back in his chair. “I could see you finding a handsome Brit, with pompous regality, who’ll keep you locked in place.”

My wholesome smile flickers behind a grin. Why would I ever want that when I have my behemoth waiting for me?

One by one, the table starts to empty. They all give me a hug goodbye and their own way of sayingyou’ve got thisbefore they disappear outside. But I stay seated as long as I can. Partly because with the mix of booze in my system, I’m not sure I’d be able to stand. But mostly, I don’t really want to go yet. I’m still basking in the afterglow of what this all means. I’m leaving my friends and family behind and traveling to a distant land.

I’m excited but also incredibly terrified.

But soon it’s only me, Clarissa, and Trent left. We finish our drinks and head outside, and the rush of cool fresh air against my face is incredibly welcome.

“Want us to wait with you ‘till your ride gets here?” Clarissa asks.

“Nah, you don’t have to,” I say. Trent’s stumbling over his own feet, and it’s best for her to take him home. I point to a set of headlights approaching from up the road and continue. “I think that’s my ride anyway. So you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, but Trent gives her the answer for me. He stumbles forward and falls face-first against the roof of his car.

“Okay, fine, let me get the child home,” she groans.

We give parting hugs and say our goodbyes, and I watch as the car I thought was mine rolls past. Checking my phone to see where my driver is, I realize I still have two minutes to wait.

Damn.

“I’ve been waiting all night to get you to myself.” I hear his voice before I see him.

It’s Toby. Again. Crawling out from behind the side of a white BMW. All good things must come to an end, but why did it have to be so shitty this time?

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I’m not scared like I was in Couture Corner. Arthur prepped me to stay safe, and if I have to use his teachings on Toby, I’ll do so with a smile on my face.

“Eva, please. You don’t know what it’s like to feel this pathetic.” He takes a step closer to me. And though his words hold the same kicked puppy tone as they have every time before, the way his tongue runs along his lip is a sign that we’re heading for trouble.

I ball my fists at my side, ready to swing if the need arises. “Feel pathetic? No, Toby. You are pathetic.”

“I know.” He reaches a hand out to me while his hideous green eyes burn with malicious intent. “But I refuse to go my whole life wondering what your soft skin feels like. How your hair smells right up against my nose.”

My heart starts thumping in my throat. I watch his hand getting closer while my mind spins in all directions on which one of Arthur’s many lessons to use on him. My body answers for me.

None of them. I’m glued in place. A stone statue of terror and self-doubt.

“Hey, fuck face,” Arthur’s husky voice strikes my ear. “Who said you can touch my woman?”

And warm relief washes away my fears and rekindles my fighting spirit.

18

EVA

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