Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Saint mostly keeps to himself the rest of the night. He joins in on a game of poker but is stoic the whole time, and everyone tells him he has a great poker face.
I think it’s more than that, but I don’t want to call him out on it.
All night, I casually sip my beer and watch him out the corner of my eye, and even when the guys drag my attention elsewhere, my gaze always goes back to Saint.
He’s the first one to turn in for the night, and as tempted as I am to follow him out to our tents, I don’t have a legitimate reason to. It’s obvious from today’s training that he has some work to do. He needs to build his physical body as well as his mind, and if I was in his situation, I wouldn’t want someone hovering over me constantly. After our conversation last night, I hope he knows I can be serious if I need to be and that he can come to me if he needs help, but I’m not going to push it.
I’ve seen guys go through this before, and the most you can do is let them know you’re there for them if they need it. Pushing them to face it or deal with it can make it worse for them. And those outcomes aren’t pretty.
Any op, any war zone, any trauma we face has the ability to take us out in more ways than one.
I’m thankful for Mike Bravo because I know no matter what, Trav’s priority is his team. If one of us is down, the rest will lift us up.
It’s probably too early for Saint to trust in that, and it’s not something he’ll believe simply because I say it to be true. He’ll find out in his own time.
I continue to stare at the door where Saint disappeared through about twenty minutes ago now, trying to decide what an appropriate amount of time would be before I go check to see if he’s okay.
A beer appears in front of my face, and I turn to see Atlas next to me.
“Thanks,” I murmur and take the drink.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I snort because while I’m worried about Saint, he’s worried about me. “I’ve been too quiet for you all, huh?”
Atlas smiles. “You’ve been standing by the fireplace for fifteen minutes and checking the door every two seconds.”
I take a sip from the bottle. “It’s nothing.”
“You’re not thinking about doing what I think you’re thinking about doing, are you?”
“That’s a lot of thinks. Why don’t you tell me what you think I’m doing?”
“You’re thinking about hooking up with the newbie,” Atlas accuses.
“Fuck no. I know Trav’s rules. I may suck at sticking to them sometimes, but that one is a big no-no.”
“Mm,” Atlas hums. “I notice you didn’t say you don’t want to. Just that you can’t. You two have a history.”
“Barely. I knew him for ten weeks and pretty much hated him for nine and a half of them. He was too much of a do-gooder for me.” And okay, maybe the idea of Saint on his knees for me, the idea of turning a good boy bad, does things to my body it shouldn’t, but I’m not stupid.
I might act aloof. I might have fun. But I know there’s always a line, and I do my best not to cross it.
“You know why Trav has those rules, don’t you?” Atlas asks.
“The no-fraternizing ones? Because it clouds judgment on missions. It’s a straightforward concept.”
“Right. But like when Brix fell for a client, Trav allowed it to happen. Why do you think that is?”
“Uh, you do know Brix no longer works for us, right? Unless he suddenly gained the power to be invisible.” I swat at the air as if trying to find our old teammate.
Atlas huffs. “Yeah, but Trav didn’t get in the way because he could see how serious Brix was. It wasn’t a fling. They were in love.”
I shake my head. “I am so confused. Why are you telling me all this?”
“I’m saying if you have feelings for the new guy, I’m sure Trav could make exceptions. If you tell him first. It’s rare all of us are on a single mission together. Trav could work out a schedule where you go on separate missions.”
“Again, I’m going to ask why you’re telling me all this. Because I’m not into Saint—I mean he’s Saint. He’s … he’s …”
“What?”
I don’t want to tell Atlas about what I know. That’s a breach of trust. It would be worse than outing someone. “I know what Saint used to be like. He’s always been the best at everything, so I know today has to be hitting him hard. That’s all. If I were the reassuring type, I’d go after him and tell him everything is going to be all right, but I’m not. So I won’t.”