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“She did?” I asked, tossing him the massive wrench I’d had to use to fix the wheel. “I didn’t notice.”
“I’m sure you never got past her ass,” Hammer teased.
He was right. Kind of.
At first, I’d glanced at her face, but I’d quickly caught sight of her ass, and then I’d forgotten what I was supposed to be doing.
“Anyway,” Hammer continued. “Thank you so much for coming down here and teaching that class. I really appreciate it.”
I’d come down to teach a weapons class for an instructor that was sick. I’d had the time off, so what the hell did it matter what I did with it?
I’d needed a goddamn break from Kilgore, Texas. I’d also needed to leave before I wrung that woman’s neck.
Sadly, all good things must come to an end. Hence why I was seconds away from boarding a military transport back to the states.
Hammer, my one-time CO and now a very close friend, had gotten me a ride here, housed me for the week, and was sending me home all on his dime. Or, well, mostly the military’s dime.
Then again, in a roundabout way, I was doing the US government a favor by teaching newly minted soldiers what to do and what not to do when it came to firepower.
So it was the least they could do—give me a ride home.
I just wished I could get the US government to rehire me.
However, after one too many knocks to the head, I was what they called a ‘volatile’ situation.
Meaning that my brain was on the verge of being fucked up if I received any more head injuries.
It was kind of like when professional football players got one too many knocks to the head. At one point, it was safe. At another, it was no longer worth the risk.
At least, that risk was no longer worth it to the military.
Sadly.
Gathering what was left of the part I replaced, I tucked it all into the box that was sitting next to it, reached out for the fuckin’ baby wipe that Hammer was holding out to me, and raised a brow at him.
“Shirt?” I repeated.
He looked behind him to see a little pimple-faced recruit hauling ass in our direction.
The kid tripped halfway across the tarmac and went down hard. Luckily, he kept the shirt out of the snow.
Thank God for small miracles.
“Jesus Christ, save me,” Hammer muttered.
I grinned at the man that had once likely thought the same thing about me.
“Did you say the same thing when you trained me?” I asked.
Hammer’s eyes came to me, and something hard and unyielding crossed his features.
“Jonah,” he said. “When you came to me, you weren’t normal. You were already hard. You were already grown up. I’m fairly sure that you never even went through that stage.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the kid who was once again back on his feet and heading our way, this time at a much slower clip.
“Probably not,” I admitted.
I’d grown up fast out of necessity, and it was a long time later that I finally realized that it was okay to let loose a little.
By that point, I was an adult and couldn’t get away with things like I would’ve been able to if I’d done them when I was a kid.
“Right,” Hammer said when the kid finally arrived with the shirt. “Thanks again for helping.”
Hammer took the shirt without saying a word, and I shrugged it on, wishing that I’d specified that it be a shirt that actually fit—oh, and was a solid color.
Hammer started to laugh when he read what was printed on it.
“Who the fuck did you get this from?” I asked the kid.
The kid swallowed.
After having spent quite a bit of time with him this week in the weapons class, I knew that with his stuttering, it might take him a bit of time to get the words out.
But he surprised me by blurting it all out in one sentence, not one hitch to be heard.
“There was only one man here today that is your size,” he apologized. “You’re freakishly large, and it’s hard to find someone that had something that’d fit. That was in the man’s car. It’s his workout shirt.”
I looked down at the shirt, then back at the kid.
“You’re secretly laughing your ass off inside right now, aren’t you?” I accused.
The kid swallowed hard, scared shitless of me.
“No, sir. Of course not.”
My lips twitched.
“He so is,” Hammer said as the large motors of the plane started to power up. “Get out of here, motherfucker.”
The kid took off, and I turned to Hammer.
“Were you talking to him or me?” I asked curiously.
Hammer’s mouth twitched. “You. The kid’s not got all his brain cells working. We did the gas chamber this morning.”
I laughed and offered Hammer my hand. “Thanks for noticing I needed a few days.”
