Page 62 of The Captain
“Truth.”
He rode quiet after that. A ready quiet. The kind that sayspoint me and I’ll go.
When we arrived at the bungalow, the porch looked a little like it had been waiting. My heart did the small soft jump it does when a place remembers you.
“Give me a few minutes,” I said. “Make yourself at home.”
He lifted his duffel like it weighed nothing and followed me to the bedroom. He hesitated in the doorway as if asking permission to cross some line I hadn’t drawn.
“Right-hand dresser,” I said, surprising myself. “Middle drawer. Leave a shirt. Toothbrush. Whatever you want here.”
He didn’t say anything showy. He just opened the drawer, set a folded black tee inside, and laid a toothbrush in the corner like a promise. Then he tucked a spare phone charger behind my nightstand and looked up at me like he’d put a brick into a foundation no one else could see.
It felt like a key turned in a lock.
I yanked my braid loose and raked my fingers through my hair. The closet yawned, unhelpful. Dresses in blues and whites. Linen pants that had behaved for donors. A navy wrap dress with a neckline that could forgive anything and sleeves that said I’m not here to be decorative. I held it up.
“Too much?”
“You’ll look like a verdict in that,” he said, leaning a shoulder on the doorframe. “Wear it.”
“Boots or heels?”
“Heels that make noise,” he said. “So they hear you coming.”
The stubborn knot in my chest eased. Fury loves a costume.
“Talk to me,” I said, dropping the dress on the bed to hunt for my good bra. “About the Navy. About your people. Help me draw the line between righteous and reckless.”
He took a breath and came in, not touching yet. “The Marine in me doesn’t like watching you load a cannon for a broadside on our mother service. Sailors are like us grunts, they do the unglamorous work that keeps civilians safe.”
“I know,” I said. “I’m angry at systems, not deckhands.”
“Good. Because I won’t let you smear kids in uniform to make a point at the top.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But if the Navy is cutting corners or using something they shouldn’t or hiding a test under a benign label, I want that ripped into daylight. You know why?”
“Because truth saves lives.”
“Because I don’t owe anyone blind loyalty,” he said, voice flat. “I owe loyalty to the mission, to my team, to the country. If the Navy’s clean, I’ll help you say so loud enough to shake the internet. If they’re not, I’ll help you fix what’s broken. Either way, we aim at the right target.” He tipped his chin. “Your lieutenant—McGuire—feels like the right kind of officer. Let her be a bridge, not your burn pile.”
I exhaled. Some of the heat in me sat down and turned into focus. “That’s the line. I can live there.”
“Good.” His mouth curved. “Now, go put on your battle dress.”
I turned to the mirror. Navy wrap. Pressed it to my hips and shoulder to shoulder. Holy hell, he wasn’t wrong. It looked like an argument they could not win.
He came up behind me. Close enough that I felt heat without being trapped. His hands hovered at my waist like he was checking both of us for sparks.
“You’re vibrating,” he said into my hair.
“I’m furious.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Those are not mutually exclusive.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s why I’m having trouble not touching you.”
I met his eyes in the mirror. The look there was the opposite of confusion. “We have a meeting in less than an hour,” I said. “I need to be a woman who can saynarrow-bandlike it’s a knife.”
