Page 9 of Maverick

“Yeah,” she said, looking up at him. “Yeah. It’s just, well, it’s just that I’m hearing all those voices of your family. That’s all I was ever trying to do was create that for myself. You guys have an identity. Maverick Stanton, Paxton and Braxton Pechkin, Saint Humphreys. I’m just Katelyn.”

“You don’t have a last name?” frowned Mav.

“I used Smith. That’s what I have on all my documentation, but it’s not my real name, or I don’t think it is. It’s just one that the school gave me, and I kept it because I couldn’t find anything better.”

“You can pick any name you like, honey,” said Ivan. “We’ll make sure it’s all legal. Find something that sings to you, that makes you feel good about yourself. Let me tell you this. Katelyn Smith is a lovely name. But your name doesn’t define who you are. It’s an identity, but it doesn’t change you.”

“Tell that to the kids named Adolph, Fidel, and Benito,” frowned Katelyn. The entire room laughed, nodding their heads.

“Fair point,” smiled Ivan. “Just get to us. You’ll feel better once you’re here. We guarantee it.”

“Yes, sir.” The screen went dark, and everyone sat quietly, looking at one another. “Don’t you guys have to pack your things?”

“We’ll come back for everything,” said Brax. “We all have emergency bags in the SUV, so we’ll be fine for now. The priority is getting you someplace where you’ll be safe.”

She opened her mouth to speak, and then there was a hard knock on the door of the apartment. Mav gripped her arm, giving a soft shake of his head, pulling her behind him as he positioned himself with his weapon.

Brax took the door while Saint and Pax stood ready. Brax nodded, looking into the peephole. He muttered a curse and then opened the door.

“Oh. It’s you,” frowned Brax. Mav stared at the face of Melissa, his ex, and wanted to slam the door in her face.

“Well, hello to you too. I just came by to talk to Mav, but as usual, the entire puppet crew is here,” she sneered.

“We have nothing to talk about, Melissa. It’s been over a month since we broke up. We want different things in life.”

Katelyn looked up at Maverick, then back at the beautiful, willowy blonde standing in the doorway. She must have been five-feet-nine compared to Katelyn’s five-feet-two. Although she had dark circles beneath her eyes, she was definitely model-worthy.

“Who is that?” she said with a curled nose.

“None of your business,” said Saint. “Leave, Melissa.”

“Look, if you don’t want to go out every night, that’s fine. I’ll give you another chance, and we can talk about our lifestyle together. I’m sure we’ll find mutual ground,” she said smugly.

“Lifestyle? Woman, your lifestyle is party until you drop, barely make it to work, and then do it all over again. You drink so many energy drinks your heart is going to explode one day. Your lifestyle is not something I want any part of.”

“What the hell is it you want? A woman-child?” she scoffed, pointing at Katelyn.

“A woman-child.” The voice repeated itself, and Melissa stared at the men, wondering who was recording her. “A woman-child who understands positive lifestyle.”

“Who said that? Who’s recording me?” she demanded. Saint realized what was happening, grinning at the spoiled woman.

“What are you talking about? Is this the energy drinks screwing with your mind? The only voice was yours,” he said, looking at her.

“You guys are ridiculous! You and your war games, your guns and knives, your precious uniforms that have to be just perfect. Just because you’re Navy SEALs doesn’t make you special or better than anyone else. You all make me sick, and if you’d rather have her than me, then go for it.”

“First of all, actually, it does make us better than everyone else. At least everyone else in the Navy. And second of all, believe me,” smiled Maverick, “I’d much rather her than you. At least she has a brain.”

Melissa turned on her heels and went back down the steps and to her car, no doubt late for work and still needing to stop for her precious triple shot, almond milk, half-caf, non-sugar, vanilla latte.

“How did you do that?” laughed Brax. Katelyn held up her phone, waving it at them.

“I have a prototype on my phone. I can record someone’s conversations and then just tap a few keys, and it will repeat for me in any manner I want. See. Humor. Disgust. Anger. Curiosity. All kinds of emotions. There are more than a hundred inferences I can place on the conversation.”

“Pretty clever,” smiled Mav.

“I’m sorry about being here while she was here,” said Katelyn.

“Why? Didn’t you hear me? I want nothing to do with her. She’s not the woman for me at all. I need someone who behaves like an adult, Katelyn, and someone who respects my work and life choices. That woman wasn’t anything close to what I need or want.”

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