Page 56 of Eight Years (The Trident Trilogy 1)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Mason

Virginia Beach, Virginia

2019

After we land, I see her walking out toward her car with her keys in her hand. I follow her.

“You’re not driving yourself home.” I grab her keys out of her hands before she can react.

“I feel fine now. Just a little headache, but I’m okay to drive.” She holds out her hand, expecting me to return the keys. I don’t.

“I just need to dump my gear, and then I’ll take you home.” I walk away without looking back, her keys still in my pocket.

Ty walks over to me. “Mase, she probably needs to stay at the hospital tonight. She has a pretty bad concussion. She’ll need to be monitored.”

“I’ll stay at her place tonight. I’ll do the concussion protocol.” Ty stops. I know what he’s thinking.

“Maybe not the best idea, man.” Ty’s the quietest person I’ve ever met, but man, he’s an observer. He always knows what’s going on.

“It’s not a problem.” I lock eyes with him as I pass. He shrugs. He’s not going to question me twice. Never does. None of them do. That’s what makes them great operators.

After I dump my stuff in my locker, I go back out to the parking lot to find her sitting on her car hood, hugging her knees, her head in her lap.

“Millie, you okay?” I rub her back lightly.

She bolts upright when she feels my hand on her back. Sitting up so quickly makes her dizzy, and she starts swaying.

“Easy, slugger,” I say as I steady her and help her down from the car. I put my arm around her shoulders and lead her over to my truck. She doesn’t try to shake my arm off. I’m not sure she has the energy.

When we get to her hotel, I lift her down out of the truck and follow her to her door. I still have her keys, so I unlock the door. She walks in, turns around, and looks up at me as she starts closing her door. “Thanks for driving me home, Mason. I appreciate it.”

I block the door gently with my hand. “Millie, I’m not leaving. I’m staying here tonight. You have a concussion. I need to check you a few times during the night to make sure your symptoms don’t get worse.”

I’ve already walked in, and closed the door. I look back at her. She’s still in the clothes she wore the night before. She’s dirty and blood-stained. And, she looks like she hasn’t slept in a month.

“Millie, why don’t you take a shower, and get some fresh clothes on?”

She looks down at herself, and runs her hand across the blood stain on her shirt like she’s just starting to remember what happened last night.

“You okay?” I’m half expecting her to break down, but she just nods, and heads back to her bedroom. “Yell at me if you need help. I’m going to make us something to eat.”

I walk to the kitchen as quickly as possible so I won’t be any further tempted to follow her into the shower. Not like this, man. Not when she’s this weak.

I hear the shower starting, and walk into her bedroom to find her clothes on the floor. I pick them up and open the closet to find a dirty clothes bag. Her robe is hanging on the closet door. It’s blue with white, fluffy sheep all over it. It’s perfectly her, and it makes me smile. Against my better judgment, I decide to take the robe to her. I turn the bathroom handle. Locked. That makes me smile. I breach doors for a living, Millie.

The shower turns off as I enter the bathroom. “Hey, I brought your robe in for you,” I say softly. I don’t want to scare her.

She peeks around the shower curtain looking at me confused, but not mad. I know what she’s thinking.

“I picked the lock,” I say. “The training comes in handy sometimes.”

“Well, at least you didn’t kick it down,” she says as she takes the robe. “Wait, this robe is warm. Did you put it in the dryer first?”

I’m suddenly embarrassed. I don’t really get that way much. “Umm, I mean, yeah, I thought you’d like it warm.”

She pulls open the shower curtain, now fully wrapped in the white, fluffy sheep robe. “Look at you,” she says. “All this alpha male bullshit, and you’re actually a cream puff underneath.”

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