Page 137 of Pretend
Tears fall down my cheek because there’s an ache in my chest. I know there’s a hole in my heart that will remain until I see him again. The fear about loving someone who leaves constantly is that it hurts each time we say,see you soon. It doesn’t get any better with time because there’s always that dreadful reality that it can quickly turn into a goodbye when you least expect it.
I rest my forehead on the steering wheel and cry until my body physically can’t take it anymore. After all the things I’ve seen when I was in Iraq, it’s hard not to face the cruel reality of their job. With all the intel and information that would spill in, I now look at deployments and missions differently. I look at the Scarred Executioners differently.
These men are incredible, and I admire them.
59
DAEGAN
THREE MONTHS LATER
“What’s that?”
Kane asks me as we gear up for the mission I’ve been waiting for since I was captured.
We found The Surgeon. The area is hot, but the Navy wanted to send the best of the best SEAL Teams to capture him…dead or alive.
I twirl a closed thick box from my valentine. I hold it with both gloved hands, and I’m tempted to shake it. My future bride-to-be is thinking of me. I’m going to tease her about this when I see her again.
I haven’t talked to her in a few days. A few days ago, I texted her to let her know I was going out on a mission and that I would talk soon. She didn’t respond but I’m used to it by now because of our schedules. The time difference is drastic. When it’s daytime over here, she’s asleep. When she’s awake, I eitherdon’t have my phone, or I’m racked out. It’s unbalanced but that was to be expected.
I lift it up so he can get a better view.
“A box,” I reply.
He scoffs.
“Obviously, asshole,” he spits with a smirk. Kane tucks a knife into his kit.
“I don’t know. It came in yesterday. I haven’t opened it yet.”
I shrug. I tuck it back into my locker. I want to open it when I get back to the FOB. It’s more of a motivation to fight harder. I get to come home to a mysterious gift Alessia shipped to me from back home.
“I wish I had an old lady at home to send me things,” Lopez mutters under his breath while he twirls a toothpick in between his teeth.
“Maybe if you stop putting your dick in a different woman every week, you would have one.” Kane chimes in while he holds his pistol, looking down through the sights. He has it aimed at the floor, and he squints at it.
“You know…” Lopez sits down beside me. “There is someone I think about. Someone who I always pictured myself settling down with. The house, the dog, some kids, even marriage. Somewhere on a ranch in Texas.”
“Who’s the poor girl?” I ask.
He chuckles.
“I call her mi mariposa. Her name’s?—”
“Lock it the fuck up. We gotta move.” Grim cuts him off with a stern, deep voice. Grim’s massive figure comes into view. His blue eyes glow against his painted face, and he’s no longer Danny Rider. He’s Grim, like the Reaper. He looks at me, then Kane, then Lopez. Rooker walks up from behind and stands side by side with him.
We are all still, listening with wide eyes and open ears.
I take one last look at my locker. I can’t wait to open it after a mission fucking accomplished. I put any thoughts of Alessia and any other distractions locked away for the last time in the back of my mind before I transform into work mode.
It’s done.
I take a deep breath in and relax my shoulders.
I have a dreadful feeling about this one…and I can’t shake it.
Everyone has camo painted on their faces—shades of black, green, and brown disguise us.
