Page 35 of Exposing Adonis

Leo touched the edges of the door, looking for wires, or anything that was amiss, and he opened it slowly, looking at every corner before he moved it forward another inch.

“Shit.” He said in a low, annoyed tone. “There’s something. I suggest you get the hell back.”

“What is it?” I yelled to him.

“It looks homemade.”

A homemade explosive. They were often tricky, unstable. They might pop off, and be faulty, or be far bigger than what was needed for their task, depending on the bomb maker.

“Come on, Chloe,” I grabbed her arm, and she winced. “Sorry.” I put a hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her back towards the playground. There were small walls and buildings to crouch behind.

“What about him?” She asked, her brows knitted and she looked back at Leo still feeling at the door. “He doesn’t have any protection … what if …”

“He’ll be fine.” I reassured her. “He knows what he’s doing.”

I actually wasn’t sure of that. But if he needed help, or if he was unsure of what he was doing he would tell me. I hoped. No. Ibelievedbecause Lea had told me so. And I also had no choice.

I crouched behind a small wall that separated the slide and sand from the concrete.

“So how long have you two known each other?” I asked, making conversation.

“Since the camps started. He and his sister were some of the first to arrive.” She plopped a peanut from the trail mix in her mouth. “He was such a nice man. I used to like him.” There was a shred of hurt in her voice. “But I guess he was pretending to be someone else the whole time.”

“Cabbage,” I shook my head. “We all pretend to be someone else.”

“What does he do for you?” she asked, and I must have visibly winced because she deflated. “He’s a killer too?” She let a sigh out of her nose and shook her head. “I thought he was a healer.” She looked down at the trail mix, and the canteen in her hand as if those items had betrayed her. “He was always taking care of everyone, and taking care of the children. He wasn’t like the other men who … what did you call them? Dessert goggles?”

She leaned her shoulder into mine, and I immediately regretted telling her this.

“When a man is in a war zone and there’s a dearth of women,” I said, slowly, purposely, like I was explaining the birds and the bees. “A man may lower his standards and become very active in pursuit of women. Supply and demand.”

That lowering of standards were often called desert goggles, because most military deployments occurred in the desert.

I had been that man once too. Decades ago, before I realized that sex wasn’t a thing worth risking everything for. Before my blood cooled, and rose to the head on my shoulders, instead of the one between my legs.

“Well, he was never like that. But now, he’s a liar. Just like all men.” She pouted.

“Ouch,” I said, bringing my hand to my heart.

“Present company excluded,” she smiled. “Anyway, you’re engaged, you don’t cou–”

“All clear!” Leo’s voice pierced the silence, and I looked over the wall to see him with his hands on his hips, his thumbs up in the western sign for good to go.

He’d saved me from a conversation I did not want to have with Chloe. God knows, when we announced our engagement, Chloe had scooped us into her arms and squealed with delight and decided she’d plan the whole thing. We had been married, in her mind, for years. This was like telling my child that me and mummy were getting a divorce.

When we got to the door, Leo was already well inside. I saw the pieces of the homemade bomb, harmless in its five main components - the initiation, switch, main charge, power source and container - on the floor. Leo was going along, checking around corners and doors, scanning windows with the agility of a panther and the efficiency of a robot. Only Chloe’s footsteps had stopped his movements, as she hovered in a classroom door while he inspected a window.

“Don’t come in until I’ve cleared the room,” he ordered, in a voice that didn’t offer room for a rebuttal.

But rebut she would. Because Chloe was Chloe, and she never liked to be told what to do.

“Brute.” She said under her breath, but at least had the decency to obey him.

“Take care of her,” I said to Leo, as I hauled the bag with the radio onto my shoulder. “I’m heading to the roof to signal our team.”

“Yup,” he said, by way of acknowledgement.

“I’m not a child,” Chloe said to me, bitterly.

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