Chapter Three

Stryker

The table weighed more than he'd anticipated as he and Brick carried it into the warehouse. It was all hand on deck again today when the second container filled with items arrived. Stryker huffed and strained to get the intricately designed table inside.

The machinery used to create these handmade designs would arrive later that evening.

Shaw and Gunner were out of town on a job but should be returning by the weekend to lend a hand. That left the rest of the team as designated moving men. Julia had taken it upon herself to organize the new shop and directed them to where each piece must go. He had to admit she had an eye for interior design because the shop was coming together nicely so far.

"Over there, guys." Julia pointed to the opposite end of the store space. "Set it in the corner for now."

Stryker and Brick did as they were told and carefully set the furniture piece in its new home. There'd been a lot of noise around town about this new shop, and there was eager anticipation for its opening day. More than a few onlookers had gathered outside the storefront to catch a look at what was being unloaded—and of course spy out the shop's owners to make curious conversation. People here seemed very friendly.

Stryker had noticed several occasions where Jason would stop and chat amiably while John would say few words, then smile and slowly slip away. The man wasn't comfortable talking with people. Stryker could respect that because he was much the same. He guessed that made him a good Navy SEAL: no talk, all action.

When they went outside again, he found John inspecting a piece of furniture in the back of one of the shipping containers. His face said it all. Something was up. Stryker jumped up into the container and joined him.

"What's wrong?" Stryker asked.

"This piece has a crack running straight through it. It wasn't there when I packed everything to be shipped; now the table is worthless. I worked for weeks to get it just right. It sucks."

Stryker shrugged. "Don't worry. I'm sure the trucking company has insurance that should cover the cost; even if it doesn't cover all the work you put into it, at least it's something." Stryker was beginning to understand how much love and attention John and Jason put into their work.

"That's it," John muttered. "I wouldn't mind near as much if I knew at least we'd be getting some money back for it. But the shipping company claims it was already broken before they touched it. So we get nothing. All that work for nothing."

There was dejection in John's voice and Stryker didn't like it one bit. "Did you take pictures of all the furniture before loading?"

"Yes, of course, I did, and I told the company that, and they still refuse to consider it their fault. His exact words were, ‘Fuck you, pipsqueak.'"

Stryker's blood began to boil. "Who were you talking to?"

"One of the men who delivered this container. The dark-haired one named Fred, at least that's what his shirt said. The two of them are over in the diner, probably laughing it off." John's voice trembled with anger as he ran the palm of his hand across the crack as if it were an injured person. "But I don't want to cause any grief because we have a few more containers outstanding, and they could mess with them. I guess I'll have to suck it up."

"Do you have that picture on you?"

John reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone to show Stryker the picture of the piece undamaged and wrapped for shipping. Stryker took his cell phone out and snapped a picture.

"I'll be back."

Stryker jumped out of the container, motioned for Brick to follow him, and headed for the diner. Stryker knew John wasn't the type of guy to argue a point, and he was right; the assholes could take it out on them in the next deliveries, but that wasn't going to happen, not on his watch.

"Follow my lead," he said to Brick, who nodded.

That was the thing about the team; his brothers were there to back each other up no matter what.

He entered the diner and saw the two men sitting at the counter shoveling eggs into their mouths. Stryker motioned for Brick to sit on the opposite side of them while he went to sit on the other beside the dark-haired man. The waitress came over with a big smile to take their order.

"Hey, guys. What'll you have?"

"Two black coffees, please, Marie," Brick said with a smile.

The two men from the trucking company glanced at either of them before continuing to eat their breakfast. Stryker calmly set his phone down on the counter close enough to the one man with the name Fred stitched to his shirt so he could see what was on the screen. The guy glanced over but didn't say anything. Acting stupid didn't matter to Stryker one bit.

"I think we have a problem here at the new store," Stryker stated.

Marie returned and set the two coffees down in front of them.

"Thank you, Marie," Stryker said, and she smiled widely.

Fred looked up at Stryker, sneered, and said, "Fu—"

Wrong move. Before the guy could even get the rest of the words out of his mouth, Stryker took hold of his wrist and turned it ever so slightly, pinching the nerve as he'd been taught all those years ago, putting the asshole in a painful hold. Thanks to their position with backs to the rest of the restaurant's patrons, no one was the wiser.

"Now, if you make a scene, I'll leave you flattened on the ground. So I would consider your next words very carefully."

The second guy tried to move in to help his buddy, but Brick easily stopped him with just one look. Stryker had seen that particular look before from his friend, and the second guy was smart to sit his ass back down.

"Now, as you can see here, from the photo, that piece of furniture did not have a large crack before your company moved it, so this is what will happen. You're going to get on the phone, tell your boss the truth about what happened to this piece of furniture, and you're going to accept responsibility for the damage. Then your insurance is going to cover the cost of replacement. Do we understand each other?" Stryker asked while giving the man's wrist more pressure, making the man wince.

"What makes you think we just won't go to the sheriff and have your ass arrested?" the second guy growled.

Brick started laughing and pulled out his phone. "Here, I have him on speed dial. See what happens next, 'cause he doesn't like assholes coming into his town and taking advantage of his fine upstanding citizens. You want to try your luck?"

When neither made a move for their phones, Stryker asked, "Do we have a deal?"

"Fine, we broke it. We'll cover the damages," Fred huffed.

Stryker released his wrist, and the guy began rubbing it. Without missing a beat, Stryker reached into Fred's front pocket, took out the wallet, then used his phone to snap a picture of his ID.

"What'd you do that for?" Fred asked.

"My insurance the remaining deliveries will be coming promptly and without any further damage. If they do, I know where to look for answers."

Stryker threw the guy's wallet onto his eggs, dropped a couple of bills down on the counter to cover their coffees and tip, and got up.

"Remember to tip your waitress," he said before walking back out of the diner without glancing back.

"Assholes will always be assholes, and sharks will always be sharks," he murmured to Brick. "They see a perceived weakness, they pounce. That isn't happening any longer."

"What was that all about?" Brick asked.

"They tried to screw our friends over."

"Oh, I see that, but that's not what I'm talking about."

"What?"

"You wanna tell me what's happening between you and John?"

"No. Why the fuck is everyone asking me that?"

Brick's chuckles had Stryker growling even deeper, but the bastard wasn't afraid of him and only laughed louder.With friends like him, who needs enemies?Stryker shook his head and continued walking, trying to ignore his best friend, who was now smiling from ear to ear.

"I guess this means you'll be sticking around a bit longer," Brick said.

"Asshole."

Brick began laughing all over again.

Damnit.

***

John

When Stryker and Brick returned from the diner, neither said anything and the move carried on. It wasn't until John received a phone call from the moving company that afternoon, indicating their insurance would cover the damage, that John figured it out.

He didn't know whether to be angry or happy about what they'd done. On the one hand, he was happy they'd not have to take a loss on the broken piece of furniture. On the other, he wasn't some dude in distress and he didn't want to be treated like one.

Especially not by Stryker. John may be smaller than the rest of the guys, and not some super-soldier, but he could handle himself.

The more he thought about it the more worked up he got, until he found himself searching out Stryker to have a little conversation. He found the man unwrapping a buffet in the back of the store.

"We need to talk," he said.

Stryker turned and looked at him, but if he knew what this was about, he wasn't giving it away. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

"Did you force those men to admit to the truth about damaging the table so that it would be covered by insurance?"

"Yep." Stryker stole a small cheese block from the food tray and popped it into his mouth.

"I don't need anyone to stick up for me," John said.

"Everybody needs somebody one time or another," Stryker said, his dark eyes watching John's every move now.

"I'm not some weakling that needs to be defended."

"I never thought you were."

"Then why did you go and say something to those men?"

"Because assholes need to be dealt with, or they'll keep taking advantage of people. Maybe next time, they'll think twice."

"I don't need a hero."

"Good, because I ain't no hero. I'm about as far as you can get from a hero."

That statement confused John. "But you're a Navy SEAL."

"Yeah, that was my job."

"You saved people."

"Correction, I went on missions I was assigned to."

"You protect people."

"I protect people I'm ordered to protect."

John was becoming even more confused as the conversation continued. Did Stryker honestly not view himself as a hero?

Stryker sighed. "Look, I simply did what needed to be done. They damaged your property, and they needed to take responsibility. That's all, nothing more. Is there anything else?"

John stood there dumbfounded but shook his head. With a nod, Stryker walked away, leaving him even more confused. How could a man who spent his entire life protecting other people view himself as anything less than a hero? How could a man who'd endured pain and suffering to do what was right not see his true worth?

John wasn't sure, but he'd make damn sure Stryker knew his worth before he was done.