Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Three weeks later…

“Nice shot.” Beckett used the scope mounted on his rifle to study Digger’s target. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“You’re up.”

He nearly smiled at his teammate’s short, grumbled response. A man of few words, Dig was quite the enigma. The former SEAL hardly ever showed any emotion, and on the rare occasions that he did, it was almost always because he was pissed.

Beckett brought his own target into view. With the center of the paper silhouette balanced within his crosshairs, he released a slow and steady exhale. He pulled the trigger halfway through and…

Shit.

“That’s three you’ve missed today,” Digger was quick to point out. “Something going on?”

His gut tightened as he glanced over at his teammate, whose focus was on reloading the M4A1 Carbine assault rifle held securely in his hands.

“Like what?” Beckett asked, sounding far too innocent even to himself.

“You tell me.”

“Nothin’ to tell.” He tried swallowing down the lie.

What was he supposed to do…tell Dig the truth? Admit that he was so completely and totally hung up on a woman he hadn’t seen since their team had rescued her weeks earlier?

He couldn’t do that. Because the truth was, he was distracted in a huge fucking way.

Of all his teammates, Digger would most likely be the least understanding in this particular situation. Hell, the man never even dated as far as Beckett knew.

How the hell could a guy like that get what it was like to be so overwhelmingly distracted by a woman he’d lost the ability to hit a damn target? The answer was, he couldn’t.

So, no. Beckett would not tell Dig that his aim was off because he couldn’t stop thinking about a woman he had no right to obsess over. There’d be no point.

Can’t expect anyone else to understand this shit if you can’t figure it out for yourself.

As if by design, Evie’s smiling face invaded Beckett’s mind. Just as it had since he first saw her picture during the team’s initial briefing. Like it did every time he closed his damn eyes.

It had been three weeks since he’d left her on that ship, and he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since. He even caught himself checking his phone multiple times a day in hopes that she’d finally sent him a text. Every time the thing rang, his heart filled with hope that it would be her on the other end of the line.

And with each new day that passed, he wondered if that would finally be the day he figured out how to let go of the fantasy world he’d created. One where Evie showed up on his doorstep to reveal she was just as obsessed with him.

“Christ, man. Why don’t you just call her already?”

Beckett was pulled back to reality by the deep timbre of Digger’s voice, but it took a few additional seconds for the grumbled words to fully sink in.

“Call who?” he asked flippantly, shrugging one shoulder for good measure.

There. That sounded casual enough. Right?

His answer came when Digger carefully laid his rifle on the shooting platform before him and turned his steely gray-blue gaze Beckett’s way.

“Really?” The other man groused.

“What?”

Almost as if in disgust, Digger huffed out a breath and gave a curt shake of his head. “Just know, my ass gets shot up on an op because you can’t hit your fucking target, I’m going to return the favor…tenfold.”

If his ass gets shot up…

“Dude.” Beckett lifted his hands in defense. “Not sure what the hell you’re goin’ on about, but the only asses gettin’ shot up on one of our ops are those belongin’ to the bad guys.”

Digger ran a hand over his face, muttering something that sounded an awful lot like, “Swear to Christ” before his chiseled face twisted into a deep scowl. “Would you please, for one second, drop the innocent, southern-boy bullshit charm and just admit you’re still hung up on Evelynn Mitchell?”

What the…

Beckett’s brows turned inward, his denial automatic. “I haven’t talked to Evie since we were flown from that ship.” And it’s fucking killing me. “And that was like, what…three weeks ago?”

But who was counting, right?

“That’s my whole point.” Digger’s expression remained as apathetic as ever.

“There’s a point to all this?” He chuckled. “’Cause I sure ain’t seein’ it.”

“You need it spelled out for you, fine. Here it is.” The former SEAL’s gaze intensified, becoming locked with Beckett’s as he growled out, “Call. Her.”

Beckett blinked, taking a few seconds to appreciate the moment.

“Holy shit. Are you…” He rolled his lips inward and gave a slight tilt of his head. “Are you actually giving me advice on my love life?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Digger snarled. “I’m trying to tell you to do whatever it is you’ve got to do to get your head out of your ass and back in the game.”

“The hell you talkin’ about, back in the game?”

“You haven’t been one hundred percent in since we got back from the HR op in Afghanistan. Your head’s so lost in the clouds half the time that you’re about two seconds behind the rest of us. And in our line of work, every fucking second counts.”

“Bullshit, I’ve been in the clouds.”

“I’m not the one shoveling bullshit here, Bones.” Digger seethed. “Brother, I’ve seen it. So have Falcon and Apollo.”

“Seen what?”

The pissed off man began reciting his list.

“You’re quiet, for one. Only talking when you’re spoken to. You don’t smile or even try to act like you’re enjoying yourself anymore. I mean, Jesus, man. You’ve even quit with those annoying as fuck jokes of yours.”

The longer he spoke, the angrier Digger sounded. By the time his rant was over, the guy’s face had taken on a light shade of red.

Beckett didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, staring back at his friend.

They’d worked side-by-side during some dangerous as fuck situations. Had witnessed cold-blooded murder, devastation, and heartbreaking loss.

And in all that time, no matter how dark things had seemed, Beckett couldn’t ever remember seeing this man express his emotions with any of the team. About anything.

At. All.

Between his years of service with the United States Marines, and his time spent working for Tac-Ops, there wasn’t a lot left in this world that took Beckett by surprise. But that right there…

That shocked the hell out of him.

“I’m not sure what to do with that, to be honest.” Beckett blinked a few times. “Unless…” One corner of his lip curled slightly. “Dig…is this your way of saying you miss my jokes?”

Dig didn’t smile. He didn’t laugh. And like he’d recently pointed out, he wasn’t one to shovel out bullshit.

Without a word, Digger turned away and began gathering up his things. Beckett waited for the other man to grumble the remainder of his big-brotheresque speech. Or, at the very least, call him some sort of well-deserved expletive.

But what he didn’t expect, what Beckett could never see coming, was the look of vulnerability on the guy’s face when he turned to him once again.

“Call her. Don’t call her. Doesn’t change my life in any fucking way. Just know, when the day comes that you realize you’ve lost the one thing you want but can never have…I will look you square in the eyes, just like I am right now, and I will remind you of this moment.”

“You mean the moment when you lectured me like I’m some damn kid?”

“No, Beckett.” Dig’s expression fell flat. “I’m going to remind you of the time I fucking told you so.”

The other man turned away once again. And this time, he didn’t look back.

Beckett didn’t move. He didn’t utter a single word. He just stood there, watching his teammate cross the graveled stretch toward where he’d parked his truck.

A full minute later, he was still standing there like an idiot, wondering what the ever-lovin’ hell had just happened, when he remembered…Digger was his ride.

Well, fuck.

“Hey!” He kicked his own ass in gear and started grabbing his guns and ammo. “Wait up!”

In a rush of hurried movements, Beckett went to his designated shooting platform, holstered his pistol, and slung his rifle over his shoulder. With both hands filled with matching ammo boxes, he spun on his heels and walk-jogged to where Digger sat waiting.

A short stretch later, they were leaving what their boss referred to as his “farm”. In reality, the expansive property bolstered 400 acres of secured land purchased exclusively for company use.

Well, almost exclusively.

Between the state-of-the-art fencing, home security systems, the outdoor shooting range, an impressive indoor range—complete with a simulator marksmanship training room, and an enormous underground shelter that could withstand a nuclear war—the place seriously had it all.

Through the passenger sideview mirror, Beckett watched the property’s massive plantation-style home grow smaller with every turn of Digger’s tires. He nearly smiled to himself as he thought of their boss’s choice to refurbish the place rather than tear it down.

Impressive in size, the centuries-old home was a classic white, showcasing several tall, thick pillars along the length of a wrap-around porch. About a billion windows could be seen throughout, each one framed with the traditional black shutters.

As they passed through the security gate at the end of the drive, Beckett imagined what the house had been like in the past. Whether it had been filled with love and laughter…or loneliness and pain.

Square footage doesn’t make a place lonely, Beck. It’s the lack of company within its walls.

The first ten minutes of the drive back to Charlotte were filled with a thick, awkward-as-hell silence. As he stared out the window at the rural scenery blurring past, Beckett realized he’d all but lost the torturous inner fight to keep his mouth shut until he was home.

With the proverbial white flag waving high in the air, he turned his attention to the man behind the wheel and begrudgingly admitted, “You’re right, okay? Are you happy?”

“Do I look fucking happy?”

A quick glance showed Digger’s fists were both white knuckled as he kept his shaded gaze locked on the road ahead.

Definitely not happy.

“I can’t call her, Dig,” Beckett muttered low. “Evie, I mean. I never…” He shook his head and turned away, pissed as hell at himself. “I never got her new number. I only gave her mine.”

During the team’s after-action debriefing upon returning to the States, he’d read over Evie’s classified statement. In it, she mentioned how the men who’d taken her had destroyed her phone. According to the transcript, the agent questioning her at the time suggested she change her service provider and number, just as an added precaution.

Having picked up Evie’s penchant for following directions, she’d presumably changed the number weeks earlier.

“I thought we were past the bullshit,” Digger grumbled. “You know all you’d have to do is ask, and Shadow would have the woman’s number for you in a handful of seconds.”

“Okay, fine.” He blew out a breath. “You want the truth? Here it is. I gave Evie my number three weeks ago, and she hasn’t texted or tried to call even once.”

“So?”

Beckett frowned. “ So …if she wanted to talk to me, she would’ve reached out by now.”

And damn if that annoying little fact didn’t burn his ass far more than it should.

“Maybe she’s been waiting for you to make the first move.”

“Kind of hard to do if I don’t have her number.”

“Call Shadow right now and ask for it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“She was a hostage, Dig,” Beckett practically yelled. “The woman was held captive in that fucking cave by those sadistic assholes who thought it was perfectly acceptable to beat her, starve her, and treat her and those little girls worse than fucking dogs. I’m sure the last thing she wants is to talk to a guy who’s a constant reminder of the worst experience of her life.”

The truck’s interior grew quiet as they covered another half mile of pavement. When Digger decided to resume speaking, the former SEAL surprised the hell out of Beckett yet again.

“Do you like this woman, yes or no?”

“I barely know her.”

“Not what I asked.”

The man was like a dog with a freaking bone. “Sure. Yes. I like her.”

“Then you should tell her.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Actually, it is.” Digger waited a beat. “The phone number, the fact that she was a hostage, or even that it was our team who rescued her…those are all just a bunch of excuses. The truth is, you’re scared of being rejected, so you’re choosing to reject the notion altogether. But I’m telling you, if you don’t at least try, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

Beckett studied his friend closely. There was an unmoving expression spread across Dig’s masculine, scruff-covered face. His taut, sinewy forearms shifted with the slight twists and turns of the wheel. And the man’s gray-blue eyes stared through the lenses of his tactical shades.

From the outside, the guy looked like the same crabby-assed Digger he and the others knew and loved. But for the first time since knowing the surly bastard, Beckett began to realize there was much more beneath his friend’s cold and calculated exterior.

There’s a story there, somewhere. And one of these days, I’m going to pry it free.

“You don’t think Owens will be pissed if he finds out I used company resources for personal business?”

“Another excuse.” Digger turned his disappointed stare Beckett’s way. “Seriously, Bones. Do you not remember Falcon and Apollo both going apeshit and doing whatever they could to find their women when they were in trouble?”

“Well, yeah, but that was different. Both Avery and Nicki had gotten snatched up again. Of course, Boss is going to let us use whatever means necessary to rescue the innocent. I mean, it’s kind of what we do. But Evie hasn’t been kidnapped again, so this would purely be me wanting to contact her for my own personal interest.”

“Don’t be a smartass, and who the fuck cares? So you want to check up on a woman you rescued. Make sure she’s doing okay after having the shit scared straight out of her. You really think Owens will have a problem with that?”

The man had a point. And the more he talked, the more Beckett began to really listen.

“So it’d just be like a follow-up call,” he mused. “Good customer service.”

“Exactly. Besides…” Digger flipped his blinker, checked the rearview, and quickly changed lanes to take the next exit. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Uh…she could start laughing hysterically before telling me to kick rocks.

Or Dig could be on to something.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I’m right.”

“And so modest, too.” Beckett joked. “But just out of curiosity, what’s your take in all this?”

“My take?”

“Yeah, you know. Why the hell do you even care?”

“I don’t,” Digger growled.

His lips curved as he stared across the truck’s broad center console at the former SEAL. With a semi-serious tone, Beckett asked his friend, “Now, who’s shovelin’ bullshit?”

The same thinly veiled vulnerability seemed to fall over Dig as he said, “I’d just hate to see you always wishing you’d tried, that’s all.” A beat later, that same veil lifted, and the old Digger returned with a gruffly added, “And I’m getting damn tired of worrying about getting a bullet in my ass because you’re off somewhere thinking of her.”

Well, shit. What he thought would be a day of shooting targets and talking guns had turned into a bizarre—yet surprisingly encouraging—dose of romantic advice from the last man on the team Beckett ever would’ve expected.

And now he had a choice. Continue pining away for a woman who may have already forgotten all about him or…

Call her.

Maybe Digger really was right on this front. And maybe, just maybe , when Evie hears his voice again…she’ll be happy to hear it.