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6
MONTY
The shout came out of nowhere, distracting me from the conversation I was having with the guys. We were catching up. Santiago was telling me about his newly wedded bliss and Vinny about his newborn and upcoming nuptials. It was almost sickening how happy they both were. They practically radiated with happiness, and while I was genuinely pleased that my best friends had found peace and happiness out of the military, I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.
Probably because I knew I would never have something like that.
At some point during our conversation, I looked behind Vinny to see Kayla talking to Lucia, Vinny’s sister. Kayla was smiling, a stark contrast from the pinched or tense expression she usually gave me. Although, on the way here, she did not have that expression at all. Instead, she had looked faintly concerned. She kept shooting me glances the entire way as if afraid I would morph into a monster or something. I understood, in a sense. My nightmares turned me into an ugly bastard sometimes, and this morning had been no different. The only consolation was that I’d managed to lock myself in the bathroom before giving in to the beast. Usually, I dealt with it myself, so it sucked that she had been there for some of it—the one person I never wanted to see me like that.
Well, lucky for you, you’ll probably never see her again after today.She had pretty much made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted nothing to do with me.
I tried not to let the thought depress me.
“So, how are you?” I shifted my gaze back to Santiago, who was asking the question while running an assessing gaze over me. “You don’t look any worse for wear.”
“Well, I do clean up nice if I do say so myself.” Even at 45 years old, I often still get complimented on how good I looked for my age, although I knew the military had aged me. I started getting my first set of grays at only 30 years old.
“Cleaning up nice would have been getting a haircut once every few years,” Santiago replied sardonically. “Literally, man, you look like some kind of barbarian.”
I shrugged. “Ladies dig it.” Or at least they had, back when I still indulged. “And that’s all that matters.”
“Sure, if you want to be a shaggy miscreant, who am I to stop you?”
“Miscreant?” I snickered. “Nice word, Mr. Mayor. Did you get a thesaurus while I was away, or is that wife of yours doing you some good?”
“Shut up, asshole,” Santiago said, but he was smiling as he said it. He then proceeded to look back at his wife, who was still on the couch with Kayla. A sappy look filled his face, and he seemed to forget all about us standing where we were as he stood for a few seconds just staring at her.
“Oh, come on.” I glanced at Vinny, expecting to share an expression of disgust with him, but I found him to be watching me closely instead.
“How are you, really?” he asked in a quieter tone, and it sobered me up.
I knew why he was asking. Vinny was the only one on the team who knew something about my PTSD, having caught me having a panic attack once before he got discharged. At the time, he’d encouraged me to quit the Marines and get therapy, but I had refused. The Marines were all I had known for most of my life. Quitting seemed unthinkable.
Until I had gotten let go anyway after failing a psych assessment. They had recommended therapy after that, but the shit had never worked, no matter how many times I tried. Vinny also knew about the subsequent drinking and womanizing that followed, but I had quit all that shit already.
“I’m good, buddy,” I said, giving him a cheery smile.
He didn’t look like he believed me. He opened his mouth, probably about to keep harping on it, but fortunately, he was interrupted by a shout.
Unfortunately, it came from Kayla.
Instinct had me pushing past Vinny, rushing to the living room, and glancing around for attackers that weren’t there before I realized she was on the phone. She bounced off the couch, and her face held a tense, angry expression filled with so much fear that it was palpable.
“What do you mean he’s missing?” she screeched into the phone, panic making her voice high.
I walked toward her, trying to assess the situation, but she barely seemed to notice my approach. Her entire focus was on the phone, and she said, “I don’t care about that, Ella. Where is my son?”
I froze in my step. The entire room was really quiet, as if the air itself was holding its breath. I glanced at the rest of them to see if they had heard the same thing I heard, and they looked just as stunned. Vinny’s wife, Faith, had gotten up and was also in the process of going to Kayla, but she stopped when I did and now looked between the two of us. She must have seen something on my face because she nodded and sat down while I remained standing.
Kayla had a son.
She had a child.
It was a stunning thought, dragging along a lot of confusing feelings. Questions poured out into my thoughts. How old was the child? Who was the father? Why the hell hadn’t she told me about him? But I shut that thought down immediately, logic dissipating the hurt. To be fair, we had only known each other one night before she took off for whatever reason. It had been an incredible night, but we were still virtual strangers. She was under no obligation to tell me anything about her child.
It was surprising that the information had not come up in any of the reports or eyewitness accounts I gathered, though, but then again, she was exceptionally good at hiding, especially for an amateur. I had tracked down drug lords that were easier to find than her. It made sense that she kept her child even better shielded.
Either way, it looked like her son was in trouble now, so this was not the time to figure out how I felt about it. I strode toward her, and she didn’t even look up at me even when I was right in front of her. She was still pressing the phone tightly to her ear.
