expression shuttered, just shut down. “No. I could’ve kept playing. Probably should’ve.” He twisted the leather of the steering wheel. “I felt the call to serve my country, that’s what happened.”
“You left the NFL to join the Army?”
He glanced at me. “Hell the fuck no. I left the NFL to join the goddamn Marine Corps. Shit was going on in Iraq, and I was having drinks after a game in the hotel bar with this guy. He was Recon. Real deal badass, hard as fuck, and made it seem cool. Told some sick stories, and got me thinking. He didn’t make it seem all honor and glory, you know? He told it like it was.”
A moment of silence.
“Never told anyone this. You got one hell of a bedside manner, Doc, if you’re getting me to talk about this bullshit. He told me I wasting my potential playing football. ‘Sure, you’re a monster,’ he said. ‘Sure, you’re fast and tough and can sack QBs like nobody’s business,’ he told me. ‘But is that what you really want to use your size and strength and toughness on? Football? A goddamned game?’ And the shit of it was, I realized he was right. So I finished the season, joined the Marines at twenty-one. I played for FSU my freshman, sophomore, and junior years. Got recruited to play for Carolina my junior year, played with them the next season. Joined the Marines. Made Recon by the time I was twenty-three. Never looked back.”
“So you were a Recon for…what, fifteen years?”
He laughed. “You’re really fishing, Doc. No. I was Recon for four, five years? Then I got recruited onto a black ops team. Real hush-hush sort of shit. Did that for a while, and then—” He let out a slow, pensive breath. “Then I got out. Some shit happened that made it obvious it was past time to get out. I’d done a few missions with my current boss, Harris. He’d gotten out before I did, worked private security for Valentine Roth. Ended up starting his own security firm, and hired me the second I turned civvie.”
“Civvie?”
“Civilian.”
“Oh.”
I watched him, watched the way his brow tightened, the way his fist clenched the wheel. “I’ve upset you, haven’t I?”
He made a visible effort to shake it off. “No, Doc. You just…brought up memories I usually keep in the box, is all.”
I huffed. “Yeah, well, then that’s two of us.” I shot him a grin. “So have you met Valentine Roth?”
He tipped his head side to side. “Yeah, a few times. He’s cool. Richer than all fuck, but he’s cool about it.”
“I’ve read a few articles about him. He seems like an interesting person.”
He laughed. “Interesting is one word for it. Honestly, there’s not many people like him. He’s a real one-of-a-kind. He’s no pussy rich-boy who’s inherited his daddy’s money even though, from what I understand, he did come from serious money.”
“Tell me about the rest of your team.”
“All right. But you gotta answer some questions in return.”
I swallowed hard. “Fair enough. But…don’t lead with the hard stuff, okay?”
“Now would I do that to you?”
I scowled at him. “Yeah, I think you might.”
He laughed. “Actually, you’re right. But I’ll be nice.” He reached out, tugged the end of my braid; and no, I didn’t like it, not one bit. “How about family, is that a safe enough opening topic?”
I sighed. “Not really, but then, I’m not sure what would be, so we’ll go with it.” I took a moment to gather myself, and my thoughts. “My mom died when I was sixteen. She was in a car accident, and she should’ve recovered, but she got an infection and…she never left the hospital. Dad always swore it was negligence on the part of the hospital, and talked about suing, but he was just too lost without her. So that’s when he turned into a hermit.”
“Jesus, Lola, I’m sorry. That’s rough.”
I nodded. “It was. She suffered for two weeks before she finally passed and,
“You left the NFL to join the Army?”
He glanced at me. “Hell the fuck no. I left the NFL to join the goddamn Marine Corps. Shit was going on in Iraq, and I was having drinks after a game in the hotel bar with this guy. He was Recon. Real deal badass, hard as fuck, and made it seem cool. Told some sick stories, and got me thinking. He didn’t make it seem all honor and glory, you know? He told it like it was.”
A moment of silence.
“Never told anyone this. You got one hell of a bedside manner, Doc, if you’re getting me to talk about this bullshit. He told me I wasting my potential playing football. ‘Sure, you’re a monster,’ he said. ‘Sure, you’re fast and tough and can sack QBs like nobody’s business,’ he told me. ‘But is that what you really want to use your size and strength and toughness on? Football? A goddamned game?’ And the shit of it was, I realized he was right. So I finished the season, joined the Marines at twenty-one. I played for FSU my freshman, sophomore, and junior years. Got recruited to play for Carolina my junior year, played with them the next season. Joined the Marines. Made Recon by the time I was twenty-three. Never looked back.”
“So you were a Recon for…what, fifteen years?”
He laughed. “You’re really fishing, Doc. No. I was Recon for four, five years? Then I got recruited onto a black ops team. Real hush-hush sort of shit. Did that for a while, and then—” He let out a slow, pensive breath. “Then I got out. Some shit happened that made it obvious it was past time to get out. I’d done a few missions with my current boss, Harris. He’d gotten out before I did, worked private security for Valentine Roth. Ended up starting his own security firm, and hired me the second I turned civvie.”
“Civvie?”
“Civilian.”
“Oh.”
I watched him, watched the way his brow tightened, the way his fist clenched the wheel. “I’ve upset you, haven’t I?”
He made a visible effort to shake it off. “No, Doc. You just…brought up memories I usually keep in the box, is all.”
I huffed. “Yeah, well, then that’s two of us.” I shot him a grin. “So have you met Valentine Roth?”
He tipped his head side to side. “Yeah, a few times. He’s cool. Richer than all fuck, but he’s cool about it.”
“I’ve read a few articles about him. He seems like an interesting person.”
He laughed. “Interesting is one word for it. Honestly, there’s not many people like him. He’s a real one-of-a-kind. He’s no pussy rich-boy who’s inherited his daddy’s money even though, from what I understand, he did come from serious money.”
“Tell me about the rest of your team.”
“All right. But you gotta answer some questions in return.”
I swallowed hard. “Fair enough. But…don’t lead with the hard stuff, okay?”
“Now would I do that to you?”
I scowled at him. “Yeah, I think you might.”
He laughed. “Actually, you’re right. But I’ll be nice.” He reached out, tugged the end of my braid; and no, I didn’t like it, not one bit. “How about family, is that a safe enough opening topic?”
I sighed. “Not really, but then, I’m not sure what would be, so we’ll go with it.” I took a moment to gather myself, and my thoughts. “My mom died when I was sixteen. She was in a car accident, and she should’ve recovered, but she got an infection and…she never left the hospital. Dad always swore it was negligence on the part of the hospital, and talked about suing, but he was just too lost without her. So that’s when he turned into a hermit.”
“Jesus, Lola, I’m sorry. That’s rough.”
I nodded. “It was. She suffered for two weeks before she finally passed and,
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