Ah. Ignoring the big gay elephant, then.
“Uh, goodnight.”
I lift my chin to him and take a long sip of my drink as he walks away, but I sense him hovering. When I turn back, he’s standing by his tent with a determined look on his face.
“Just so you know, I never looked at you with disgust. It was pure jealousy. I wished I could be as open as you about it all, but I couldn’t. Not back then. I used to look at you with admiration and mild annoyance that this screwup of a soldier had everything I wanted.”
“Really?”
He nods. “And I’m not going to say that you pulling me out of Udoola and saving my ass didn’t throw me. I know I’m here because of you.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t let me.
“And now you’re going to say something smartassy, but that’s fine. I’ll pretend I never said any of this tomorrow, but I thought you should know that I’m well aware of who saved me.”
He disappears into his tent, while I remain stunned for a moment.
When I finally find my voice, he’s right. It is smartassy. “That almost sounded like a thank-you.”
His muffled laughter is the only response I get.
Chapter Six
Saint
The desert sun beats down on my back as I lie on my stomach, a position I’ve been in many times before. Dust flies around my face, and I find myself blowing raspberries to spit it out.
Beside me, Angel laughs. “If we were in the actual field right now, you’d be dead. Do you know how to be covert?”
We’re on a hill overlooking a training field below in a small, dry canyon. Trav wants to see how good a marksman I am, so we’re waiting for the rest of the team to infiltrate the area and take up hiding places among the obstacles and targets spread throughout. We have no idea when they’ll turn up, and we’ve been out here waiting for at least half an hour.
We’re in full gear, helmet and goggles included, and it’s fucking hot.
“Did Trav dump a truckload of extra sand up here?” I complain.
Angel finds me highly entertaining. I’m a big ol’ riot. “How long has it been since you’ve done something like this?”
“Training or specifically sniper training? I got my qualification with GenNex but rarely needed my skills after that. So … so long ago I can’t even count that high?”
“Let’s see if you’ve still got it. Here they come.”
Trav’s Humvee appears around the corner of the rock canyon and pulls to a stop, but they don’t get out.
“Do we take them out as they appear or—”
“It’s cute you think they’re not already situated around the place.” She pulls her trigger and hits a big round target board. Paint explodes everywhere, and then a gloved hand appears from the side of the target, giving us the finger.
She side-eyes me. “You were too busy watching the car to see them infiltrate the grounds from a different angle.”
A few months ago, I wouldn’t have made that mistake. Or would I? Not remembering how everything went wrong on my op means I’m questioning everything I do now. Did I do the same back then? Is it my fault we were found out? Did we blow our cover before we even arrived?
I look through my scope and find someone crawling under a wooden deck near an old shack. “Target at two o’clock,” I say.
“Nice spotting. Take him out.”
I only need one shot.
They climb out of their hole and put their hands up. I can’t tell for sure who it is until he takes his helmet off.
Fuck, I took out Iris. “Oops.”
“No one takes out Iris first,” Angel warns.
“Looks like I just did.”
“You might want to check your bed for rattlesnakes.”
“It’s cute you think I don’t already do that around Iris.”
I spot someone hiding behind the shack. I take aim but don’t fire because the only thing I can see of them is their boot. I wait patiently for them to make their move. My target, Atlas by his physique, peeks around the corner the tiniest bit, and I don’t hesitate. Bam, straight shot to the helmet.
“Nice,” Angel says.
“Thanks.” I line up my next target, Zeus by my guess, as he makes a run from the Humvee to duck behind a crate. My finger gets ready to take him out—
“So, did you and Iris ever fuck?” Angel asks.
I flinch so hard, my finger squeezes the trigger, and the paintball explodes nowhere near the large crate. “You did that on purpose.”
“Maybe. But I still want to know.”
“No, we never … no. I was closeted back then and kept to myself. I didn’t think it was possible to be out and in the military and happy, whether Don’t Ask Don’t Tell had been repealed or not.”