Page 101 of Trusting a Warrior

You bastard. You left such a fucking mess behind, you know that?

Ari was looking at him anxiously, so he strove for calm. “It’s not a kid’s job to be strong,” he said evenly. “It’s a kid’s job to be sad if you want, to cry if you want, to scream into your pillow if you want, and know your mom’s gonna come hug you, take care of you.”

She didn’t reply, her lips still tight, and suddenly, Geo couldn’t help but chuckle. “You look so much like your dad right now, you don’t even know.”

Her eyes flew to his. “Really?”

“Yep. And you’re stubborn like him, smart like him. He also played soccer like a badass.” Before he knew it, Geo was telling her about a game that’d sprung up on their outpost one night, SEALs against the Army. “Your dad was goalie, and he made all these awesome saves.” He pantomimed diving and twisting as best he could in a seated position.

“Did he win?”

“Yep. The Army guys had to give him a box of homemade cookies this one dude’s wife had sent him. That was the bet.”

Bet.

A pang went through him, but it was softer, muted, more nostalgia than sorrow. The realization loosened the knots in his chest a little.

“You remind me a lot of him, in all the best ways,” he finished softly. “And, kiddo, he was so proud of you. So proud.”

Ari’s shoulders slumped and she sighed, like a balloon letting out all its air. He waited, until at last she looked over at him. “Will you come watch me play sometime?”

A huge lump in his throat, Geo reached out and tugged on her ponytail. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

After he’d helped her down the ladder, he leaned against the side of the house and watched her tuck her soccer ball under her arm and head for the porch. On the way, a couple of younger kids ran up and, with excited gestures and animated faces, asked if she wanted to play.

Ari shrugged. “Sure.”

Soon there was a small group of them kicking the ball about. She proved to be a patient and knowledgeable coach, and finally he turned away to climb to the roof once again, a cautious satisfaction swirling through him.

Of course she still had a lifetime of grief work ahead of her, but Geo would always remember that first pressure-valve release of emotion that came from simply talking about it with someone who understood, who cared.

And if what he’d gone through as a child would help her...

Helplessly, his eyes sought out Lani, who was sitting in the sun laughing with Devon and Renae. She’d learned to take the things that hurt the most and use them to light the way for others walking in her shoes. What an amazing tribute to Tyler.

He moved his gaze to Ari, who gave him a tiny smile when she saw him looking.

And you’ve helped me give some much-needed relief to a devastated little girl.

“How am I going to leave you, Lani?” he whispered.

How the fuck was he ever gonna leave?

“Hey, can I say something real quick?”

Someone turned the music down and all eyes settled on Renae, who’d stood and was nervously twisting her fingers together.

Geo slung his arm along the back of Lani’s chair and kicked his legs out in front of him before doing a quick scan of the assembled group on the deck. Night had fallen, and full of beer and steak—courtesy of some of the SEALs’ wives who’d showed up—everyone was mellow, chill and enjoying each other’s company.

Most of the kids were in the living room watching a movie, but since their talk on the roof, Ari had stuck close to Geo’s side. She’d been peppering him with questions about Bosch when Renae tapped her steak knife on a nearby beer bottle.

“I just wanted to thank you all for coming,” she said. “Of course the yard looks absolutely beautiful, but more than that, it’s been so nice to feel a part of things again.” She hesitated. “Did any of you know Cade?”

A few hands went up, and to Geo’s surprise, Rhys said, “I remember him from a few years ago when his platoon rotated through our outpost.” He grinned. “We were bored, and frustrated from planning missions only for the head shed not to approve them.”

The SEALs grunted their understanding—they’d all been there. Most people pictured spec ops units as mavericks who got to do whatever they wanted, when in reality, missions were carefully planned based on gathered intelligence and then sent up the chain of command for approval.

Most were denied, and even the approved ones tended to spin up and then spin right back down.