bridge and all that. Start from scratch." I watched him carefully. His face twitched for a moment, and then he leaned back in the booth, crossing his arms.
"Fine. We start over," he said. The bartender set two fresh glasses on the table. I waited for Dean to reach for his before I picked mine up. He sipped on his drink, and then, changing his mind, downed the rest of it in one go. I drank mine slowly, feeling the liquid burn down my throat and my body relax. I had needed a drink after today.
"It's all different now," Dean said. His voice was quiet, barely carrying over the noise of the jukebox. He stared at the empty glass in his hands, twirling it and letting it catch the dim bar light. "I went by Frontera's place. It isn't there anymore. It's a huge hotel now."
I sipped at my drink. Dean stared at his empty glass as though he could will it to fill, but he made no attempt to refill it.
"What are you doing here, Dean?" I asked again. He set the glass carefully on the table.
"It was my fault." His eyes never left the glass, lost in his own world. I sat quietly, wondering what exactly he meant. "It was my fault Frontera died."
The admission was kind of a shock to me, but he couldn't have been responsible. "What do you mean, it was your fault?"
He looked up at me, his blue eyes cold. "I had to choose between the mission and my friend. I chose the mission."
I swirled the last few drops in my glass. Dean looked up at me, as though asking forgiveness.
"We were supposed to guard a Kuwaiti VIP. Shit went down. I had to decide between protecting the VIP and completing the mission or saving Frontera... I completed the mission." Dean's voice cracked, and he took the glass from my hand and finished my drink. I let him.
I now understood why he was here, in this bar and drinking like a fish. Today he had to choose between his client and someone else. He chose the client. This time it had cost him nothing, but last time it had cost him his friend. This bar was where he and Frontera had been happiest before Frontera's death. That it happened to be a place significant to me as well was just an unlucky item of misery to add to his guilt.
I got out of my seat and slid into his. He didn't fight as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him to me. His body shook with silent sobs. It was twenty years, but he hadn't forgiven himself yet.
I remembered Tony's shy smile. I remembered the way he and Kimberly whispered in the corners, wrapped up in a serendipitous love. It broke my heart.
Dean quieted, his body no longer shaking. "I was shot during that mission. So was Grinswald. I told them it hurt to hold a rifle because of the wound, and they let me out. Truth was, I couldn't stand to be in the military anymore. I lost one of my best friends, and another one nearly died for nothing."
We sat there, silent. He was broken in a way that I would never understand, a way I never wanted to understand, but I didn't want him to be alone.
He glanced over at me, and I recognized the look well. Those eyes were undressing me, and I couldn't say that I didn't like it. "You know, I kinda want to check out that hotel where Frontera's place used to be. Do you want to come with me?"
I knew exactly what we'd be doing if we went to check out that hotel, and even with just the couple of drinks that I had, I was sorely tempted. I looked down at his muscular arms, wondering how well he had kept in shape...
I shook my head. "No, Dean. There's a flight that leaves the airport near here in an hour. We should be on that flight."
He turned to face me. "Come on, I just want to have a peek."
A peek at the rooms, or a peek at me? "Dean, I'll close out your tab, and we can go."
He sighed, then staggered over to the bar. I blew out a whole lungful of air. It had been close, but I had resisted. I knew that if we did something, we would both regret it in the morning and we both had enough regrets to last a lifetime. We didn't need any more.
I walked Dean
"Fine. We start over," he said. The bartender set two fresh glasses on the table. I waited for Dean to reach for his before I picked mine up. He sipped on his drink, and then, changing his mind, downed the rest of it in one go. I drank mine slowly, feeling the liquid burn down my throat and my body relax. I had needed a drink after today.
"It's all different now," Dean said. His voice was quiet, barely carrying over the noise of the jukebox. He stared at the empty glass in his hands, twirling it and letting it catch the dim bar light. "I went by Frontera's place. It isn't there anymore. It's a huge hotel now."
I sipped at my drink. Dean stared at his empty glass as though he could will it to fill, but he made no attempt to refill it.
"What are you doing here, Dean?" I asked again. He set the glass carefully on the table.
"It was my fault." His eyes never left the glass, lost in his own world. I sat quietly, wondering what exactly he meant. "It was my fault Frontera died."
The admission was kind of a shock to me, but he couldn't have been responsible. "What do you mean, it was your fault?"
He looked up at me, his blue eyes cold. "I had to choose between the mission and my friend. I chose the mission."
I swirled the last few drops in my glass. Dean looked up at me, as though asking forgiveness.
"We were supposed to guard a Kuwaiti VIP. Shit went down. I had to decide between protecting the VIP and completing the mission or saving Frontera... I completed the mission." Dean's voice cracked, and he took the glass from my hand and finished my drink. I let him.
I now understood why he was here, in this bar and drinking like a fish. Today he had to choose between his client and someone else. He chose the client. This time it had cost him nothing, but last time it had cost him his friend. This bar was where he and Frontera had been happiest before Frontera's death. That it happened to be a place significant to me as well was just an unlucky item of misery to add to his guilt.
I got out of my seat and slid into his. He didn't fight as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him to me. His body shook with silent sobs. It was twenty years, but he hadn't forgiven himself yet.
I remembered Tony's shy smile. I remembered the way he and Kimberly whispered in the corners, wrapped up in a serendipitous love. It broke my heart.
Dean quieted, his body no longer shaking. "I was shot during that mission. So was Grinswald. I told them it hurt to hold a rifle because of the wound, and they let me out. Truth was, I couldn't stand to be in the military anymore. I lost one of my best friends, and another one nearly died for nothing."
We sat there, silent. He was broken in a way that I would never understand, a way I never wanted to understand, but I didn't want him to be alone.
He glanced over at me, and I recognized the look well. Those eyes were undressing me, and I couldn't say that I didn't like it. "You know, I kinda want to check out that hotel where Frontera's place used to be. Do you want to come with me?"
I knew exactly what we'd be doing if we went to check out that hotel, and even with just the couple of drinks that I had, I was sorely tempted. I looked down at his muscular arms, wondering how well he had kept in shape...
I shook my head. "No, Dean. There's a flight that leaves the airport near here in an hour. We should be on that flight."
He turned to face me. "Come on, I just want to have a peek."
A peek at the rooms, or a peek at me? "Dean, I'll close out your tab, and we can go."
He sighed, then staggered over to the bar. I blew out a whole lungful of air. It had been close, but I had resisted. I knew that if we did something, we would both regret it in the morning and we both had enough regrets to last a lifetime. We didn't need any more.
I walked Dean
Similar Books
