Page 9 of Keeping a Warrior

“Don’t be sorry, just get a clue.” In spite of the harsh words, Aaron’s tone was gentle. “You’re not one of Lani’s girlfriends. You’re not her confidante. You’re now her ex. And we hate seeing the two of you hurting like this.”

Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes burning along with the throb in his foot. “What am I supposed to do? It’s that time of year again—” He broke off. “Of course she’s going to come to me.”

“Ah, man. I get it. You two have been through a lot together.” Aaron paused. “But sex isn’t therapy, and if you keep doing this, you’re always gonna be stuck in the past.”

“You’re right.” Rhys cleared his throat. And with me around, the past is always right there in front of her, which is why we both agreed we needed a change.

“I wouldn’t be a friend if I didn’t say something,” Aaron said softly. “You guys wanted to get out there and experience life, man. So do it. If you and Lani are meant to be, you will be.”

Rhys couldn’t help scoffing at the platitude, but Aaron was unfazed. “Fuck you, a cliché becomes a cliché for a reason. Hear what I’m sayin’?”

“Yeah, I hear you.” Straightening from his slouch, Rhys took a long, deliberate sip of his lukewarm coffee. “And we just agreed not to talk at all during this month I’ll be gone.”

“Good. You’ll be busy and she’ll be fine. She has Sarah, plenty of support.” Aaron yawned so big Rhys could hear his jaw crack. “Speaking of work, how’s it going?”

“Great. Platoon’s down a few dudes, though. Two got picked up for sniper training, another dumbass popped positive.”

Aaron caught his breath. “Weed?”

“No. Cocaine.”

With a whistle, Aaron said, “Flushing your damn career down the toilet for a cheap high. Well, that sucks. You guys’re next in the hopper for deployment, right? Sounds like you might need a few straphangers.”

“Yeah, keep your ears open. I’d love the chance to work with you.”

“Sarah will kill me, but you know I’ll be putting my name out there. My platoon’s having some of the same issues, sorry to say. There are lots of rumors floating around.”

Rhys winced, wondering where the hell this sudden explosion of drug use in the SEAL community had come from. Was it the slowdown in combat operations that left some hard-charging guys looking for a different kind of high after years of constant war?

Whatever the reason, it was sad.

Talk about ending your career on a low note.

“Well, if I hear anything on my end, I’ll put in a good word for you, man.”

“Thanks, Rhys.”

They said their goodbyes, and then Rhys stripped the bed before checking that all the lights were off, the appliances unplugged. His bags were already packed, ready and waiting by the door.

Before he determinedly powered his phone off and stuck it in his pocket, he sent one last text to Aaron.

Thanks for the tough love, I guess.

You’re welcome. Catch ya on the flip side.

It was a short drive from Rhys’s apartment in Imperial Beach to the SEAL training detachment headquarters on the nearby amphibious base. He parked on the outer edge of the huge lot, not far from where some hapless BUD/S students were jogging along the road on their way to chow, inflatable boats held high above their heads. Although it was only seven a.m., they were already soaking wet and covered head to toe in sand and grit.

Poor bastards.

Turning away from the students’ misery, Rhys gazed up at the building for a moment, unable to deny the trepidation quivering in his gut. When he’d announced the end of his engagement, every asshole he worked with offered an opinion, which Rhys had managed to listen to more or less politely until someone said, “Eh, go fuck someone else, dude. She probably is.”

The ensuing brawl had trashed both the bar and a few noses. Of course, seeing other people was the whole goddamn point, but that didn’t mean Rhys needed to hear drunken relationship advice from some idiot who had a wife and a secret girlfriend on the side.

After the troop chief had bailed the entire platoon out of jail, he told-slash-ordered Rhys to take some leave in order to get his shit together. Wisely, Rhys hadn’t argued, but now it was time to go back.

Despite everything, a frisson of excitement zinged through him. His personal life might be in tatters, but his professional one was really starting to heat up. Oh, yeah. But first, damage control. He’d busted some chops and the team guys would be looking for revenge.

Rhys buzzed in through the entrance at the back of the building and made his way up to the second deck where his platoon had their space. He pushed inside the door, bracing for whatever came next. SEALs weren’t exactly hug-it-out, forgive-and-forget kinds of dudes. In the next few seconds, he could very well find himself crammed in a janitor’s closet somewhere with his hands and feet duct taped together.