“My contract’s up in about six weeks. I have some other irons in the fire, but this one looked sweet.” He shrugged. “Something will come along.”
He tacked on that platitude almost like he was keeping Billy from being the one to say it.
The two of them had something in common when it came to their post-service jobs—they’d both chosen things that gave them flexibility and kept their routines from being all about the same-old, same-old. After years of living right on the edge of life or death in high-adrenaline, high-stakes operations, monotony was enough to drive men like them insane.
So Billy had chosen private investigation, where he could control which cases he took or didn’t. And Mo had been doing government contract work since he’d retired five years ago. His current position with the Department of Defense had been his longest, at a year.
“You still feeling the contractor route?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I’d like to do something that feels like it makes a damn difference. You know?”
“Hell, yeah. I get that.” Billy’s favorite cases involved tracking down missing persons, because he felt like what he learned mattered. But as good as he was at investigating—and he was—he’d more fallen into it then felt called to do it.
At first, he hadn’t cared about that distinction. But lately, it was on his mind more and more. Especially since Ryan had shared the news of the death of another of their friends.
Why did I survive the trap when so many others didn’t?
Before they could say anymore, Noah Cortez came into the gym, bag of gear hanging on one muscular shoulder, big grin on his face. “Am I late to this party, or what?” he said, dropping his bag next to Mo’s.
Billy hit five miles and jumped his feet onto the rails as he powered down the machine. “Right on time,” he said, clasping Noah’s hand when he extended it.
And, Jesus, what a difference a couple of months had made in the former Marine’s life. An IED had given him a traumatic brain injury that’d damaged his left ear and eye, and when Billy had first met Noah right here at Full Contact about four months ago, the guy had been a gaunt shell battling some serious depression. Now, he’d put on a good thirty pounds of muscle. The dark circles were mostly gone from under his eyes. And he walked taller, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
“How’s your girl?” Mo asked, moving to the younger man’s good side.
The expression on Noah’s face hit Billy uncomfortably in the chest because he’d never once felt the fundamentally happy way Noah looked. He’d seen Noah and Kristina together, and it was crystal clear that they were a match of the happily-ever-after kind. Billy was happy that so many things had turned around for the younger man—Noah had fought for it and deserved it. But it was still a sucker punch to realize you might never find that for yourself.
“She’s too fucking good for me, but otherwise she’s great. Busy now that the new school year’s underway,” Noah said, pride plain in his voice.
And for some reason, that had Billy thinking about Shayna. About the excitement in her voice as she’d talked about her new job and wanting to do something meaningful. About the enthusiasm she’d demonstrated as she’d shown him her equipment.
To be that young and fresh again, your whole life stretching out in front of you full of potential and possibility. As jaded and world-weary as he was, even though he was only six years older than her, he could barely imagine it.
“When are we gonna get to hang out with her again?” Mo asked. “It’s been too long. You gotta come up for air every once in a while.”
“Oh, right. Halloween,” Noah said, not taking the bait even as Billy snickered.
Mo frowned. “That’s over a month away, son.”
Noah chuckled. “No shit, but Kristina gave me marching orders to invite you all when I saw you tonight. We’re going to throw a Halloween party at my parents’ house. So you officially all have plans or Kristina will track you down. Feel free to bring dates.” He looked at each of them expectantly.
“How about roommates?” Billy asked as he wiped down his treadmill.
Noah’s gaze suddenly felt too observant. “Your buddy’s sister? Absolutely. How’s that going?”
“She arrived yesterday, but she seems cool.” He took a long pull from his water bottle to avoid any looks they might be giving him.
“She’s cramping his style,” Mo said, smirking.
“No,” he said, almost reflexively. “She’s just…keeping me on my toes.”
Mo arched one dark eyebrow. “Is she now?” He waggled his eyebrows at Noah, who laughed.
“Not like that, assholes,” he said, wiping the sweat from his face. Even though she was fucking attractive. There was no denying that.
Noah scratched at his chin. “There’s a story there.”
“There’s definitely a story there,” Mo said.