Page 20 of Desperation

“Florida,” he replied with a scowl, and we both groaned. It was going to be one hot week, and not in a good way.

When we returned from our training mission, I had an email from Cole Security waiting in my inbox. I held my breath as I pulled it up, hoping it would be a job offer.

It was more than I could’ve hoped for.

I never imagined what it would be like to tell my commanding officer I was leaving the SEALs. In every scenario I imagined—retiring, being wounded and honorably discharged—I envisioned this passive transition into civilian life. I didn’t think I’d be walking right up to him and basically saying “I quit.” But that was exactly what I was about to do since I wouldn't be reenlisting.

When I tapped on the door frame of his office, he glanced up from the papers on his desk.

“Kingsley, how are you?”

“I’m fine, sir.”

“What can I do for you?” he asked before I could say another word. He was clearly busy, and I wouldn’t take up any more of his time than necessary.

“I’m getting out.” I said it so fast, I thought he might miss it. I almost hoped for that so I could turn around, walk out the door, and pretend I hadn’t just quit the SEALs. His hands stilled over his desk, and he raised his eyes to me again. He studied me a moment before folding his hands in front of him and squaring his shoulders to me.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m assuming you’ve thought a great deal about this. You’re not one to make hasty decisions.”

“Yes, sir, I have. I even have a job waiting on me when I get out.”

"In that case, you're time with us is almost up."

This was it. I was almost free.

And then the world went to shit.

Chapter Sixteen

Hannah

News reports were rolling in by the minute. An attack on an American embassy. I covered my mouth with my hand, a silent gasp escaping my lips. Oh no, not again. Fire and smoke filled the screen, the reporter's voice drowned out by my thundering pulse. My mind could only focus on one singular thought.

Devon.

Had he gotten out yet? Would they send him there, or was he free of the SEALs for good? He told me he was leaving but didn’t say when. I had no idea how long that process took. He could be smack dab in the middle of another conflict, fighting terrorists who were out for American blood.

Silent sobs broke out at that thought. I’d turned my back on him before he left because of something he did nearly a decade ago. And now I may never see him again. My anger and disappointment had started to dissipate shortly after he left, evaporating completely the moment those bombs exploded, and I considered the possibility of him being sent to track down the perpetrator. I hoped he wasn’t there or preparing to deploy to this unstable and dangerous location. I prayed that he was safe, that he wouldn’t have to fight this battle.

With every day that passed, I hoped to hear some news of Devon. Even Drake seemed on edge, watching the news in the evenings, his face etched with worry. He hadn’t heard from his cousin, and even though there had been tension between them the last few days he was here, it was apparent Drake was genuinely concerned.

He came into the room to find me standing in front of the TV, eyes wide with horror, and he pulled me to his chest. His hand smoothed down my hair as he held me close.

“You need to stop watching this stuff for a little bit. It can’t be good for the baby for you to be this stressed all the time.” He was probably right; ironic considering the amount of stress he’d caused me throughout the last seven months. He kept me on edge, wondering when the beast would rear its ugly head. It wasn’t a question of if. It was inevitable. I just didn’t know when he would strike again.

“Alright,” I agreed and reached for the remote, switching the channel. Alighthearted sitcom filled the screen as I turned toward the kitchen. I needed to busy myself to keep my mind off Devon. Switching on the oven, I set the temperature and began preparing dinner. My eyes drifted to the seat Devon always sat in when he ate with us. His deep rumbling laughter filled my ears, and I closed my eyes, imagining he was here with me. No matter what I did or where I was, his memory haunted me. I couldn’t escape him.

The cookie jar I’d filled just yesterday reminded me of his kiss, of the singular moment his lips pressed to mine with his arms wrapped around me. My fingers brushed against my lower lip, remembering how he felt there. Would I ever feel that again?

I pushed those thoughts back, burying them down deep. It was wrong to think about him kissing me again, to dream about it. I should have never let it get that far. We’d almost been caught. If I was smart, I wouldn’t put myself in that situation again.

Drake’s laughter floated into the kitchen, and I observed him for a moment. This was the man I’d fallen in love with three years ago. He’d been a provider, a lover, and a friend. I needed to remember that. We were about to bring a child into the world, and that was what I needed to focus on. He was already doing so much better. I’d seen the anger spark in his eyes a few times but he kept his temper under control. I knew he could do it. I needed to have faith in him, in us. Maybe he wasn’t perfect and had done a lot to damage our relationship, but if I was being honest, I hadn’t been trying real hard either here lately. I knew we could make it work. We had to. Our child deserved to be part of a happy, loving family.

That was my motivation, what kept me going on the days I wanted to give up on Drake. Over the next few weeks, when I’d think about Devon, wondering where he was, and if he was safe, I’d shift my focus to Drake and our baby boy. I found myself redirecting my thoughts often. Drake was giving me everything I needed, being the loving, caring partner I craved, so why couldn’t I stop missing Devon?

---