again when I can walk a straight line, Officer.”
“That would be Lieutenant Hunter, not me.”
“So it would be, Captain Maverick.” She saluted me sharply . . . and then bent over the table, completely fucking naked, to pile up dishes.
“Good thing he’s married now, or I’d have to take him out.”
“Men. Macho. Typical.”
“I’ll give you typical.”
“I think you already did.” She sassed back.
“You call getting fucked hard in my kitchen typical, woman?”
I marched toward her, but my phone rang on the counter. It jitterbugged across the flour dusted surface.
“Going to answer that?” V asked.
Picking up the cell, I scanned the incoming and shut it down.
Her fingers joined with mine around the phone. “Was that your parents?”
The dangers of dating a shrink.
I nodded.
“You haven’t contacted them yet.”
I shook my head.
“You should.” She drifted away, picked my shirt up off the floor, and pulled it on. The broad shoulders swamped her and the tails fell to her upper thighs. “I know what it’s like to go without family.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, feeling cornered. “How so?” I tried to turn the tables on her.
“You’re not the only one running from your past, you know?”
“Actually, I don’t know, V. I don’t know very much about you at all.”
She brushed past me and turned to storm out of the room. I grasped the back of the shirt and pulled it down her spine. Her ink visible, she halted.
“Fuck you, Bo,” she tossed back.
“Nice. From the woman who wants me to give it all up but isn’t one bit honest herself.” My emotions switched gears in an instant, and it was crash and burn time. I ranged closer to her. “You’re hiding something, and I think it has something to do with this tat.”
V whirled on me. “You have no idea, Marine. No fucking clue.” Her finger pointed at my chest. “Don’t try to psych me out because I am years ahead of you, interrogation training or not. There’s a reason I don’t get involved.” She shoved me away. “Call your damn mother already and be thankful you can.”
She strode down the hall, slamming the bedroom door.
My jaw locked, I yanked on my discarded sweats. I kept one eye on the closed door as I pressed the callback button on my phone. If Veronica thought she could make a run for it while I was otherwise occupied she was dead wrong and she didn’t know who she was dealing with.
I gripped the cell in my hand, listening to the other end ring.
“Hello?”
“It’s Bo here.”
“Bo?” My mom’s voice sounded suddenly teary, and I clamped my eyes shut.
“Hey, Ma.”
“Oh my! Oh! Renny! Bo’s on the phone!” Mom shouted to my dad.
“Jesus, Ma. Do you think I could talk to you for a second before you put me in front of the drill sergeant?”
“Boy, you better watch that cussin’. I don’t care how long it’s been since I laid eyes on ya. Don’t you Jesus, Ma me. Hear?”
Damn. In trouble before I hardly even say hello.
A lifer in the Marines, my dad’s voice carried across the line with all the force of fired up artillery. “You safe, son?”
“I’m in Charleston.”
“Wouldn’t call that safe.”
I snuffed out a laugh.
“How long you been stateside?”
“I . . .” I pressed the heel of my hand against my eyes.
My mom commandeered the phone. “Bo. You get yourself home right this instant. I don’t know where ya been or what you’ve been through, but—”
“You heard your momma. You’re one of her babies, soldier or not. Damn you for goin’ off the grid all these months.”
“I haven’t been right in the head, Dad.” I pushed a fist against the wall, wanting to punch clean through it.
“I don’t give a good daggone damn. We didn’t know where you were or how to contact you.” He chomped out the words like they were rusty bullets lodged in his throat, like the big lump lodged in mine.
“I’m sorry, Pop.”
“Sorry’s just words. We need to see
Amanda Quick
Ric Nero
Catty Diva
Dandi Daley Mackall
Bruce Wagner
David Gerrold
Kevin Collins
Christine Bell
Rosanna Chiofalo
A. M. Madden