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When Matt and I decided we wouldn’t re-up, we spent hours talking about where we wanted to go when we returned to the States. We tried to include John in the decision, but he wouldn’t commit to anything. Hell, I don’t even know where John’s been living the last four years. As far as I can tell, he’s never stayed in one place for more than a few days at a time.
“Have you talked to Mary?” I ask Matt.
He groans. “I swear, my twin is gonna be the death of me. I called her before we boarded, and after yelling at me for calling her by the wrong name, she hung up.”
“She’s still insisting we call her Jezebel?”
“I don’t get it,” he laments. “Just because her little online friends know her as Jezebel, why do we have to call her that? It’s not her fucking name.”
“You do know she’s the same age as us, right?” I smirk. “You’re twins, man. Fucking twins.”
Matt rolls his eyes but before he can argue, the plane bounces on the runway as we land. He’s always been protective of Mary—fuck… Jezebel—despite her proving over and over again that she doesn’t need it. I get it but one of these days, he’s gonna push too far. I just hope I’m there to see it because watching her beat the ever-loving shit out of Matt will be hilarious.
As we exit the plane, my nerves jangle. I don’t know if it’s the memory of what we did the last time we were on American soil or what, but it pisses me off. In the Army, I was known for being able to face any situation like I have ice in my veins so being jittery now is beyond irritating.
“Who the fuck is that?” Matt snarls when we reach the end of the jet bridge and officially step foot in the airport.
I follow his gaze, and my heart hammers faster against my ribs. Jezebel is standing near the wall, amidst other people waiting on their friends or family to deplane, and she has her head resting on the chest of a very large man with long hair. He has his head lowered, so I can’t make out his face, but the way she seems very comfortable with him tells me we’re about to have a major issue.
“Matt, dude, calm down,” I say as I try to keep up with my friend, who’s stalking toward his sister like he’s hunting down an enemy in combat.
“Like hell I’ll calm down,” he seethes.
When he gets within a few feet of Jezebel and the man, he pulls his arm back, ready to strike. What happens next only takes a few seconds, but it might as well have been an hour for how slow it all goes down.
Jezebel straightens, the man lifts his head, and Matt swings his fist into the bastard's jaw. Unfortunately for Matt, said jaw is hard as granite… and connected to our best friend’s face.
“What the hell, Matt?” Jezebel screeches.
She turns and lifts her arm to inspect John’s chin, but the big man only pushes her hand away. He glares at Matt, his eyes sparking with a rage I’ve missed.
“That’s the one and only time you’ll get away with that.” John’s fingers are flying, his hands giving into the fury I know is burning him from the inside out.
Matt flexes his fists at his sides and narrows his eyes. Motherfucker is usually the calm one, but there is nothing calm about him now.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?” Matt demands of his sister.
She glances from John to Matt to me and then back to Matt. “I wasn’t aware I had to warn you that your best friend would be here,” she snaps. “Jesus, Matt. Why would you hit him?”
“He thought I was here with you,” John signs. When she appears confused, he continues. “Like,with youwith you, Jez.”
“That’s ridiculous. Me and John?” She shakes her head. “I mean, we’ve shared a bed or two, but nothing has ever happened. He’s practically my brother.”
“Shared a bed or…” Matt steps closer to John, who only crosses his arms over his chest as if to dare Matt to hit him again. “What the hell does that mean, shared a bed or two?”
Jezebel waves her hand dismissively. “Get your mind outta the gutter. John is always the perfect gentleman.”
“Still didn’t answer my question.”
John steps in front of Jezebel as if to protect her from Matt. “Unlike you, she stuck around. We’ve worked on some things together while you two were out chasing down terrorists, and sometimes our work means staying in whatever motels we can find. Nothing happened. End of story.”
“John, you know why we couldn’t stick around.” I don’t speak out loud, instead relying on sign language to help keep our secrets.
John narrows his eyes on me and for a moment, I think he’s going to argue, but he shocks me when he gives a curt nod. “I do. Doesn’t mean I like it.”
“Can we get outta here?” Jezebel asks as she glances around the airport at our surroundings. “Too many people.”
I take in the crowds around us and have to agree. For the middle of the night, this place is hopping. And we don’t need the attention Matt’s temper is garnering.
