Risk Yarbrough pulled his laptop close and shifted to get comfortable on the hospital bed. The staff here was friendly and proficient, especially considering he was an American in Pakistan. One nurse was particularly friendly. He smiled, then frowned because she’d caught hell for it. Well, technically, it was the fact that she was giving him head—which, hey, is about as friendly as one can get—that got her into boo-coops of trouble.
His torn-up leg was mending fast, and soon he’d be out of there. Where next? He Googled BASE jumping locales, looking for the next radical location. Trango Towers had been hell on him here. He’d had an off-heading canopy opening that had rammed him into the face of the rock. Which meant that he’d landed in a stunned and injured state, unable to fully get his balance. Not the best damned way to land.
The doctors and nurses all thought he was crazy, jumping off a stationary object and pulling his parachute so low to the ground. They had seen injuries and fatalities from other jumpers, regaling him with the gory details in their lyrical accents. Like he didn’t already know, though he appreciated their warnings. He certainly couldn’t explain that jacking up his adrenaline had kept him sane when he was a kid. After his mother died and his father worked him to death and beat him to expend his own grief and anger, Risk had numbed himself. Jumping off the barn roof or taking the horse they called Insanity for a ride was the only way he ever felt anything. It still was, for the most part.
Except his fingers weren’t typing anything about the jumping locations of buildings, antennas, spans (bridges), and earth (cliffs). They typed Justiss Alliance Miami. True to Chase’s word, there wasn’t much about it or him. In the world of transparency, one man and one company had eluded capture. Risk reached into his duffel bag, which he kept within a foot at all times, and pulled out the business card. It was bent and worn from the times when he’d been camping and the card had sort of ended up in his hand.
His gaze fell on the bandages, slated to come off in the next day or so. The thought of heading off to some other location to sneak onto private property or violate a park rule wasn’t all that exciting at the moment. Injuries and near-death experiences had never deterred him. In fact, just the opposite. Figure out what went wrong and do it right the next time.
Suddenly, risking his life for fun seemed … well, stupid. Nothing like raiding a compound in the desert or rescuing a hostage. Doing something meaningful rather than getting a rush that was over about an hour after his feet touched the ground. This was where he’d been a year out of high school, freezing his ass off in Yosemite Park, waiting for dawn to break so he could pull his first jump of the day. A need for purpose hit him harder than any mountain. He’d signed on to the SEALs that time.
And this time? He flipped the card over, eyeing the names and numbers on the back. Returning to Merica, as Rath called it, was sounding better and better. The thought of seeing the boys, catching up beyond the occasional e-mail or text message, actually made his throat tighten. They were his second family, as important to him as his real brothers. He reached into his bag again and retrieved his cell phone.
He called Saxby, smiling at the sound of his voice when he answered with “Hey, bro. Whazzup?”
Risk flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Taking in a little downtime in Pakistan. I’m heading home in a couple of days, a week at the most. Call the boys and schedule a meet-up somewhere on Julian and Rath’s route. I’m going to fly to Illinois and take my truck down from there.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll get back to you when I’ve got something worked out.”
Risk disconnected, feeling the heaviness in his chest lift at the thought of getting together with the boys. And finding a direction. He’d heard an earful from his most responsible brother, Will, when he’d gone home right after the defuckle.
Will had always lectured Risk on his “recklessness” and had about freaked when Risk announced he was signing on with the SEALs. Being the oldest brother, Will had taken a fatherly role where Risk was concerned. He’d insisted that Risk spend his senior year of high school with him and his wife after their father had broken his nose in a drunken rage.
Risk had been grateful for that year of normalcy even as he’d been unable to fathom living such a boring life. Matt, his younger brother, was a perpetual student, remaining in the safe, steady academic environment. Also boring.
Risk flipped his finger against the bent corner of the card. He was going to make two more calls to the United States, talk to these references, and find out what it was like to work for Chase Justiss. Then he was going to get the hell home.
The boys met at a roadside diner in Shamrock, Texas, coordinating with Salsa and Rath’s return trip on what was left of Route 66.
Risk propped his leg on the table and hitched up his pant leg. The waitress, who had the unfortunate timing of appearing just then, gasped at the jagged scar, roughly one foot long and an inch wide in places.
Sue, as her name tag indicated, continued to approach despite the horror on her long, pretty face. “Why, bless your heart. Is that a shrapnel wound? My cousin’s got one like that, only it’s smaller.”
“No, ma’am, a mountain got me.” He could show her plenty of war wounds. If he were less than a gentleman, he could offer to show her the one that had gotten him the most ribbing.
She tsked and handed each of the guys a plastic menu. “Damn things. Turn your back on ’em for a second, and they’ll take a bite right out of you.”
Risk grinned. He liked this woman. “Yeah, at least it didn’t have rabies.”
The moment she’d taken their drink orders and retreated, Rath said, “Who-ee, look at Risk, working the lady even faster than Sooch.”
Sax settled back in the blue vinyl booth with his trademark half-grin. “She already took my order, know what I mean?”
“Did not,” Salsa said, his gaze hungrily scanning the menu. “You’ve only been here for five minutes.”
Saxby curled his hand and blew on his fingernails. “That’s right.”
Knox elbowed him. “You’re full of shit. Stop trying to blow smoke up our asses and figure out what you want. I’m so hungry I could eat a cow.” He shook his head, his gaze on the menu. “Still acting like a couple of horny teenagers.”
Knox was the only one of the five who’d been married; Risk remembered his Skype calls, trying to convince his wife to hold off on filing for divorce until he came home on leave. With a ninety-five percent divorce rate among SEALs, it wasn’t a surprise that the marriage had crumbled. Still, it sucked for him. Risk wasn’t going to be the one to ask if they’d managed to keep it together. And he didn’t have to, once he checked Knox’s ring finger. No sign of the wedding band, not even a tan line.
“How’s the road?” Risk asked Salsa and Rath instead.
“The wind in our faces,” Rath said, his smile breaking through his dark beard. “The rumble of the engine, the freedom to do what we want. Sleeping under the stars.”
“Bugs in our teeth,” Julian added. “Exhaust fumes. Numb balls at the end of the day. Prickly scalp from wearing a helmet for hours on end. Fuckin’ awesome.” But he grinned. “Staying away from my family … priceless.”
“They still trying to get you to come back home?” Risk asked.
“About every other day. Calls and texts. First my younger brother, then the older one, then a cousin, then my father. Even my younger sister.” He imitated them in Spanish, then translated. “ ‘Come home. It’s your destiny. Your responsibility.’ They figure, since my military career—and chance to escape—crashed and burned, what else is there but the family business?” He settled his hand over his crotch. “I’ll take the numb balls, muchas gracias.”
Of course, Sue chose that moment to bring the tray of drinks. She quickly shifted her focus from Julian’s crude motion to each plastic glass.
“Excuse my ungentlemanly friend here,” Saxby said in his soothing voice, giving her a wink. “Don’t judge me by the company I keep.”
And just like that, she was snared, focused on him instead of those glasses. She gave him a smile. “There’s nothing to judge, sugar. I grew up with three brothers.”
Sometimes Risk and Saxby would make a competition of who-gets-the-girl. Sooch had earned his nickname many a time. Sue took their orders and sauntered back to the kitchen. Sax shot Risk a challenging smile. Are we on?
Some small part of him responded, as it did to any challenge. The rest of him just wasn’t into it, which seemed rather odd when he thought about it. For some reason, banging some chick and never seeing her again didn’t appeal. Like BASE jumping, it was fun in the moment but left him hollow later. He waved it off and dumped four sugar packets into his iced tea. “Any of you been thinking about Chase Justiss’s offer?”
Rath kicked back, his arms over his head. “Had enough of being at someone’s beck and call.” His dark brown eyes got even darker. “ ’Sides, I’m heading down to Mexico to find out what happened.”
“And get yourself killed,” Saxby said. “They know what we look like, and they have pictures to keep our mugs fresh in their minds. Since they think we’re assassins, they’ll be keeping an eye out for us.”
Rath had a determined gleam in his eyes, one Risk knew well. No one was going to talk him out of going. “Let us know before you go,” Risk said.
“Why, you gonna pray for me?”
“Maybe we’ll go down, too,” Risk said.
Rath hitched his thumb at Julian. “I already told JuJu here, I’m not dragging any of you into this. This is a solitary mission. My ass on the line.” Rath and Knox were loners at heart, used to being self-sufficient. Even BUD/S hadn’t worked that out of them completely. Nor had the months of training and all the deployments afterward. Yet Risk knew either man would put his life on the line to save his teammate. Their loyalty was bar none.
“Let us know anyway,” Risk ordered. “In case you go MIA.”
“Yeah, sure.” Rath narrowed his eyes at Risk. “You really thinking about joining this security company?”
“It’s more than that,” Risk said. “It’s the kind of thing we’re good at. That we live for. Not rushing into armed compounds or engaging in firefights, but it’s also not waiting around till the government decides to send us in. Or changing their mind once we’re there and ready to rock and roll. But it is about righting wrongs. Getting justice for people who can’t. I talked to the two references. One did a stint in the Marines, the other’s a former cop. They see enough action to fuel their need for adrenaline. But they like being able to make a difference without having to deal with bureaucracy. And they think a lot of Chase Justiss. I’m going down to Miami next week to talk to him. Who’s with me?”
Yeah, Risk had fantasies about bringing the team together again under Justiss’s auspices. “We could all chip in on a boat, go fishing, hit the clubs. Do you guys have any idea how hot the women are supposed to be down there?”
“And how hot and muggy the weather is,” Knox added.
“Yeah, buddy, but nothing like the deserts and jungles we’ve been in.” Risk took in his comrades. Rath was the most closed. Julian was probably reluctant to get that close to his family in Orlando. Knox was hard to read, as usual. Saxby was bending his straws about eight ways. Risk recognized the call to adventure sparking in his eyes. Or maybe it was the hot women.
“I called the references, too,” Sax admitted. “Just out of curiosity. One was a woman who’s been with the agency for a year.”
“Figures you’d get the female reference,” Risk grumbled, but inside he was getting excited. If one of them signed on, eventually, they’d all sign on. He knew these guys better than anyone, even his own family. Being shot at, covering each other’s asses with gunfire, and hauling an injured comrade out of a hot zone bonded people faster than anything. “You’re intrigued. Admit it.”
Saxby narrowed his eyes. “The last time you had that look in your eyes, we assaulted a compound in Laredo, Mexico.”
Knox nodded. “Those so-called references could be Justiss’s friends, his girlfriend.” Ever the cynic.
Risk honed in on his likely cohort, Saxby. “What else you got to do? Aren’t you tired of all those women fawning over you like you’re a lap dog? Ooh, Chihuahua. Don’t forget, I’ve seen it.” Risk had gone home with Saxby on leave once. It was as sickly sweet as the delicious pecan pie and whiskey lemonade Sax’s mom had plied them with. That was one time when Risk didn’t jump into compete mode. No way was he dangling his rod over someone else’s pond. Saxby was like the freaking king of Cole, especially since the town was named for his family.
“Yeah, yeah. I worked at the grill company for a while, unfortunately getting my daddy all excited, thinking I was going to settle in. I might have stayed if he’d taken the reality-show deal. One of the networks wanted to turn us into the latest family-business reality show.” He waved his hand marquis-style. “ ‘Hot and Sultry Grillin’.’ Or maybe ‘Smokin’ Louisiana.’ What do you think?”
Julian snorted. “Better than ‘Washing Dirty Money.’ ”
“Or ‘Rifle Travesty,’ ” Rath added. “In a takeoff of Duck Dynasty. The best rifle company no one’s ever heard of.”
Sue brought a tray and set down the plates without having to ask who ordered what. “Need anything else, boys?” She was looking mostly at Sax, but she swung that smile back at Risk, too.
“I’m good,” Risk said, picking up a piece of crispy bacon.
“I’ll bet you are,” she murmured as she headed off.
“Bet you fifty,” Sax said, digging into his country-fried steak.
“She might do you both at the same time,” Knox said, a bit of humor creeping into his expression. “You could save your money.”
Risk and Saxby both made a face. “Two women,” Saxby said, “sure. With another dude … no way.”
Damn, how they’d gotten sidetracked. Risk dropped his fork on his plate, making a loud clatter. “I’m thinking about my future, not my dick. Can we focus here? I’m going down to talk to Chase so that maybe I can get some purpose back to my life. Who’s with me?”
Rath shook his head as he shoved a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.
Risk turned to Julian. “Purpose. Escape. Action. Doing the right thing. Everything we joined the SEALs for. We can have it again. You in?”
“Mountain Man and I are going down to Rod’s. Remember him? He owns a bike shop and hasn’t taken a vacation in two years. We’re going to spell him so he and his old lady can take off for a week. Go play in Justiss’s playground and let me know what happens.”
Risk could accept that. He focused on Saxby. “You’re getting soft, buddy. Spoiled.”
“Soft?” Saxby pulled up his T-shirt and thumped his knuckles against his six-pack. “You call this soft?”
“I sure don’t.” Sue had come up with a pitcher of iced tea, and she was practically drooling.
Risk was glad he hadn’t taken the bet. But honestly, his head wasn’t in that head. He needed more than a roll in the sack.
“Why, thank you, darlin’,” Sooch drawled, giving her his whole attention, just like he always did with the ladies.
She filled his glass first, then the others. “How’s dinner?”
“Hot and tasty,” Sax said in his deliberate way that always made the woman on the receiving end blush. Sue was no exception.
Damn, the boy had definitely gotten soft … in the brain, anyway. His focus would be on getting laid and not on his future, and Risk wanted to get to Miami tomorrow, now that he’d made his mind up to go.
Sax leaned back with a sigh and watched Sue sashay back to the kitchen. “She is hot. And I bet she’d be tasty.”
The guys gave a general consent, too busy filling their pieholes to comment further.
Sax blew out a long breath and turned to Risk. “I did get soft the first month I was home. Ate every kind of pie available, drank whiskey lemonade, and slept till noon. A week ago, I lost interest in it all. I found myself in the gym crunching until my abs burned like one of our grills. I ran for five hours straight. I even blew off a date, forgot all about it as I ran and ran and ran. That’s the best I’ve felt since the defuckle. And at the end, I realized I need something more than the cushy corporate life. I can’t reenlist, don’t want to go into law enforcement, so I called Chase.”
“And?”
“Told him I was thinking about it, asked some questions. I liked what he had to say. I’m in.”
Risk gave him a nod, even though he wanted to jump up and holler. He shifted his attention to Knox. “What about you, Maverick? The three of us can go down and do training and orientation together.”
Knox leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest like he was going to be a big fat no. “You can drop that bulldozer look. I talked to Justiss last week. I’m already scheduled to fly down the week you’re there.”
Risk felt as though he’d been sucker-punched. But in a good way. He traded a high five with Knox. It would be only a matter of time before Julian and Rath signed on. Then the team would be together again. And he knew they were going to kick ass.