Lethal Game (GhostWalkers 16)

“Go to work,” Malichai ordered gruffly. He bent his head, kissed her upturned mouth and then gave her a little push in the direction of the bed-and-breakfast.

Laughing, Amaryllis waved at the two men and sauntered off, her hips swaying. Malichai sighed. “That woman.”

“She’s beautiful. And nice. I don’t leave my house that much. I work from home on a computer and most of the time, my friends do as well. She’s easy to talk to.”

That explained the awkward stares Craig gave Burnell and Jay. He probably had no idea how to talk to real human beings, face-to-face.

“Amaryllis is very easy to talk to,” Malichai conceded. He began to inch toward the edge of the sidewalk. To his consternation, Craig moved with him. “I’m going to have to get this swim done.” He kept walking, determinedly stepping onto the sand.

Craig followed him. “I don’t swim. I don’t even know how.”

Malichai picked up the pace. He was fairly certain Craig was going to follow him right down to the water’s edge so he could see Malichai’s “wound.” If that was the case, he might as well get it over with. He had to strip off his track pants. He wore board shorts under them, but he wasn’t walking around that way, revealing to the world the raw, shiny wounds in his leg.

He didn’t answer but found a lounge chair up closer to the water and casually tugged down the track pants. He heard Craig’s swift inhale and caught sight of the very real horror on the man’s face.

“Wow. You really did get shot. More than once.”

“Yeah. I did,” Malichai said.

“Looks recent.”

“A few weeks ago. Had a couple of operations.” Make that several. Lots of blood transfusions. He’d nearly died on the helicopter ride, but he’d been lucky that Rubin had been with him. If not, no one could have saved him. Then Ezekiel and the rest of the team refused to give up on him once he was taken off the helicopter and brought to their makeshift hospital before being transferred to Germany. It was a long road back and he was still traveling it.

“So, they think swimming will strengthen the leg? It’s pretty weak?” Craig persisted. He took out his cell phone. “Do you mind if I take a picture for my friends to see? They aren’t going to believe this.”

“Yeah, I do mind,” Malichai said. He didn’t care if anyone thought he was rude. Craig might not have any idea how to interact with real human beings, but it was time he learned. “I would prefer that we don’t talk about it again. In fact, I would prefer that you don’t mention it at the B and B.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course not.” Craig hastily put his phone away. “I’m sorry. I just got carried away. That’s just cool. Well. I’m sorry.” He turned toward the street, still muttering apologies as he hurried away.

You okay, bro? Mordichai asked.

Malichai took a deep breath and let it out. Was he? He hadn’t expected to have such a visceral reaction. He should have found the entire thing humorous. He knew there were a lot of men like Craig who rarely left their homes. They lived virtual lives, playing games, having online friends, working on their computers and really living on them. They seemed to lose touch with reality. He really should give the man kudos for actually taking the step to leave his house and meet a few of the people he had talked to, probably for years, face-to-face.

Malichai had been shot more than once. This wasn’t his first time. He’d gone on countless missions. None of them had been easy or pretty. This time the wounds had been different. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t want to look too closely at it. He was alive. His leg was intact. He’d found Amaryllis. That was all in the plus column. He wasn’t going to look at the negative side.

He tossed his track pants on the lounge chair and made his way to the water’s edge. The water was cool, maybe mid to high sixties. It didn’t matter to him, but he wondered if it would be unusual for a man to go swimming in deeper water without a wet suit. None of the surfers wore them.

Going in now, Mordichai.

We’re on you. Take your time heading out, Malichai. It was Ezekiel who answered him.

Ezekiel had been hovering ever since that first notice he got from Rubin that Malichai had been shot and was slipping away. Zeke had been fierce in his fight to save his brother. Once Malichai had been brought out of Afghanistan, Ezekiel hadn’t left his brother’s side for days. Then operation after operation, he had insisted on being in the operating room, double-checking everything, making the surgeons and anesthesiologists crazy. He pretty much could make Malichai crazy as well, but he was used to his older brother hovering when they were sick. He’d been doing it all their lives.