Page 5 of Bravo

Home.It doesn’t matter that I’m four years away from forty; my mother will always feel like home to me.

“I’ve missed you, kid. Let me take a look at you.” She releases me and steps back, her brow arching as she takes in my unkempt appearance. “You need a trim.”

“I’ve been living in the jungle for three months,” I reply with a laugh. “I didn’t even sleep in a bed until last night.”

She shakes her head. “You still need a trim. Come early for dinner, and I can do it for you.”

I laugh, knowing she would too. “I’m headed into town later and was planning to stop by Floyd’s.” At the mention of our local barber, she nods.

“Good. How was the trip home?”

“Not too bad. No traffic coming out of Dallas, so that’s nice.”

“Glad to hear it. We missed you around here.”

Before I can respond, Bravo bounds into the house, and she drops down to pet him. “There’s my good boy! Keeping my son safe, that’s what you do, isn’t it? You work so hard.” Bravo flops down and exposes his belly so my mom will pet it.

You’d never know that, forty-eight hours ago, he had his powerful jaws locked onto the arm of a woman prepared to take my life.

Now, he’s a puppy. A goofy, fluffy, German Shepherd puppy.

“What time is dinner?” I ask, mouth already watering.

“Seven,” she replies.

“Anything I can bring?”

“Yourself and an appetite.”

“I’ve had an appetite for three months.”

She laughs. “Well, good. We’ll do something about that tonight.” Mom stands. “You doing okay?” Her expression is serious now, and I know it’s her fishing for how this latest mission might have affected me.

Truth be told, they all weigh on me like stones around my ankles. The things I’ve seen, the places I’ve pulled people out of—they haunt me. But I wouldn’t change this mission for anything else. I bring the lost back to their families. And if I must, I’ll cut myself to the bone to do it.

“I’m good, Mom.”

“Honey—”

“I even managed to hand out those Bibles Dad gave me.”

“Really?” Her expression lights up.

“Really. Some of the veterans I worked with and each of the girls I rescued.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “The Word of God will help them.”

“Yes,” I reply. “It will.”

“Good.” She wipes her tears. “Did Silas make it home okay?”

“He did. Bianca is still in labor, but he made it home okay.”

“Home birth. That is one brave woman,” she says, her tone laced with admiration.

“Bianca is as tough as they come,” I reply honestly. The woman walked through hell and back, managing to come out with more faith than some of the people who warm pews every Sunday.

“Very true. She’s a perfect match for our Silas.” Mom beams. “Well, I’m going to head up to the house. I’ll see you at seven?”

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