Page 29 of Point of Contact

“We’re trained for this. It’s our—”

Kimi held up her hand to stop Riley’s words, shaking her head. “No. Fuck. I’m sitting here listening to myself, and it’s becoming increasingly clear my journalistic objectivity is...gone. Just fucking gone. I hate this war. I hate this Valley. I—” She looked away.

Jesse stared at her averted face, feeling helpless. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her it was okay, that nobody here was afraid to die, not really. Hell, dying was easy. Being left behind, having to live with everything they were seeing—and doing—

That was the really scary part.

* * *

“Aww, fuck!”

The sound of a resounding crash from the hallway had Trevor looking up from his open suitcase, startled.

“Everything okay, babe?” he called out just as Carl appeared at the doorway to the bedroom, carry-on hanging from his shoulder.

“Knocked over that stupid, bloody plant stand. Again.” He pointed at Trevor, who fought to suppress a smile. “When we get home, I’m moving it.”

“But I like it there.”

“Too bad.”

They bickered the whole way out to the waiting cab and climbed into the back seat while the driver stowed their bags. As they headed to the airport, Trevor twisted his fingers together, a nagging sense of disquiet making his gut roil. For the umpteenth time he checked to see if his phone was on and fully charged.

Carl noticed and clucked. “You emailed Riley and said where we were going, right? He has our cell numbers and the itinerary, so you won’t miss his call, Trev, I promise.” Without missing a beat he went on, “So we’ll be meeting with the caterers and the photographer this week. After that I’ll want to check out the reception venue and hotel so we can map out the distance from one to the other. Then, as a treat, I’d love to take you down to Newport and maybe fit in a visit to Bristol, which is such a quaint little town with so much history—”

Trevor tuned him out, thinking instead of Riley’s last phone call.

“Not exactly sure when I can call again, Dad. I don’t want you to worry, but we’ll probably be out of touch for a while.”

“Don’t worry?” Trevor’s laugh was strained. “Seriously? That’s like asking a bear not to shit in the woods, son.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Trevor sighed. “So how long? I only get to talk to you once a month as it is, and aren’t you overdue for your mid-tour leave?”

“Yeah, we all are, Dad. We’re...shorthanded all of a sudden, so leaves are all getting pushed back.”

“Shorthanded? You mean some guys are—” Trevor swallowed hard.

“Dad, don’t.” Riley’s voice was achingly gentle. “I can’t talk about any of it, but just know that I’m okay. I’ll call when I can. Gotta go.”

It had hurt Trevor to hear how weary and sad Riley sounded, and he wondered if he’d recently lost a close friend. Was it one of the guys at the party? The memory of that night flashed through his mind, the young men in attendance so vibrant, so full of life. Even what’s-his-name, the homophobe with the startlingly beautiful eyes. Jason? Jesse?

“Earth to Trevor.” Carl touched his leg, and Trevor jumped. “You haven’t heard one word I’ve said, have you?” His voice was tight with annoyance.

Trevor took a deep breath, praying for patience. “I did hear. You want to take me to Newport, and Bristol, and yes, I’d love to go. I’d also like to visit Cape Cod if we have time.” He was relieved when Carl relaxed back into the seat.

“Of course. I’m sure we can pencil in a visit to Cape Cod.”

“Good.” Trevor threaded their fingers together, resolving to avoid falling into the what-if trap and determined to do his best to enjoy this mini-vacation with the man he loved. It was important to Carl, so it was important to him, a mantra he was repeating to himself more and more frequently as the date approached. God, he just wished the wedding was over so they could get back to normal.

And Carl was right, it didn’t do anyone any good to sit home worrying by the phone. Riley would call when he could.

Chapter Nine

“Estes, Byrne. Your mid-tour relief is flying in as we speak, gentlemen, so you be on that helo out. See you in about two weeks.”

Elation burned through Jesse, and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to yell out “fuck, yeah!” right in his lieutenant’s face. Instead he managed a fervent “yes, sir” as he and Riley rushed out of the command hooch to hurriedly pack their rucks for their chance to get out of Dodge.