TWENTY-THREE

It had been two weeks, and the loss of Olivia made the air around him feel stale and thick with loss. Zane pushed himself up, ran his hand over his scarred cheek, and let out a feral howl as the memory of one of Olivia's suffocating hugs filled his mind. The window rattled in its casing, and he immediately flipped off the family ghosts. "Too damn bad. If you don't like it, move on."

Linc pushed the door open. "You ready to move on to phase two?"

"Didn't know there'd been a phase one."

"The trash cans rattling with glass bottles should've given you a clue." He hitched his shoulder. "But then again, Army guys aren't all that bright, so it's not surprising."

Zane bounded out of bed and was ready to pummel his cousin. The rage that filled his belly was welcome, and he guessed, if appropriately stoked, it could last the day.

He cocked his arm back and was about to throw a right hook when he noticed that Linc looked bored. "Put your damn hands up."

"Nope. Not gonna do it." He scratched his chin. "I can't be fighting because I've got a date with my woman tonight. Got to keep this pretty face of mine bruise-free."

"A what?"

"Date. You know that thing men and women do when they like each other."

"But she's still pissed about the snafu from last week."

Linc chuckled loudly. "I've just about mended all the fences I crashed through, and things are looking up."

Adrenaline drained out of his limbs, and he watched Linc saunter toward the stairs. "Son of a bitch. Won't even go one round with me."

"Call Hoyt Doherty," Linc called out. "The situation isn't working out with Betsy, and he's about as frustrated as you. You two can beat the hell out of each other because that's sure to fix the trouble y'all created for yourselves."

"I didn't…" Unable to finish the sentence, he walked across the hall into the bathroom. He couldn't use the one attached to his room anymore because it was filled with memories of Liv. Stupid claw foot tub. It taunted him every time he entered and acted like a neon sign reminding him of what he'd lost.

Maybe he should rip the thing out and install a shower with sixteen showerheads. That would surely fix what ailed him and ensure that he would be able to take a full breath at some point in the future.

Zane walked into the kitchen, ignored his cousin, and strode to the coffee pot to fill his cup. As usual, Killer was hot on his heel and parked his doggy behind at his feet. It turns out the little white ball of fluff excelled at standing sentry.

"Lucy reminded me that she would take Killer whenever you're ready. She and Olivia don't want the dog to end up at the pound or anywhere else."

"What kind of ogre do they think I am?"

"That's a rhetorical question, right?"

Zane strode over to the table and dropped into a seat. "Have you seen me without this dog for more than ten minutes since you arrived?"

"This isn't the right time to discuss that misunderstanding with Betsy and Hoyt, right?"

He lifted the dog into his lap. "I never said that he could give the dog to Betsy. It was a desperate man making a desperate mistake."

"And we'll stick to that story no matter what."

"What are you still doing here, anyway?" Zane gulped his coffee. "You're usually at the bookstore by now."

"Lucy is going in a little later today, so I'm hanging back until she's ready to go."

"And she can't drive herself into town?"

"A question like that tells me exactly why you've been crying into your Cheerios and not loved up with your girl."

"My therapist would say that's projection."

"The fact that you've got a damn therapist is thanks to me, so I don't care what kind of psycho-babble you throw my way."

Zane stroked Killer's head. "I do appreciate you hooking me up with the guy. I never woulda thought of doing the phone sessions if you hadn't suggested it."

"Glad you're sticking with it," Linc replied.

"Losing the one person who makes the world feel okay kinda motivates a person to buckle down and face the stuff that made it possible."

"All the same. Not everyone takes the opportunity to do the work."

Unable to unjumble the emotions churning, he knocked fists with Linc and then drank more coffee.

"You know you're lucky."

"How's that?" Zane asked.

"A terrific girl came along and gave you all the good reasons to leave the past where it belongs."

"Too bad I wasn't ready for it."

"I doubt many people are, even if they haven't been in war."

"Guess that's possible."

Linc folded his napkin. "You know it is since you've seen every single man in this family struggle with transitioning from life in the military to one at home. We've all spent years at the tip of the spear and brought darkness home like some horrible souvenir we should've left behind. Our souls tell us we don't deserve happiness because we lost brothers on the battlefield. And then our guts shout that it wouldn't be right to make something of the life we've been spared if they can't. Which is all total BS. Make no mistake about it."

Zane took a breath and watched his little dog press his head into his hand. "I mistakenly thought if I stayed buried under the layers of pain and guilt, it would do my fallen brothers some good."

"Same, cousin. I tried to tell myself that rolling around in my misery would show them their sacrifice was worth something."

"How do so many of us get it all wrong?" Zane asked.

"Because we're not taught differently. There's no post-war training we can attend that gives us the tools to navigate the new normal."

"Amen to that."

"And let's face it, this thing between men and women is a whole kinda battlespace of its own. If you catch real feelings for a chick, then strap up because you are about to face the greatest test of your life."

"I failed that challenge spectacularly and lost the battle."

"You just had a lousy first round. The trick is to stay in. Fight for Olivia while she still gives a fuck because one day, you'll be too late."

"I might already be."

"Nah, a woman who looks at you the way Liv did needs a lot more than two weeks to fall out of love."

"Here's to hoping she's got some previous undetected well of patience because I've got a lot of work ahead of me before I'm worthy."

"Women don't want perfect. At least, that's what Lucy alluded to the other day. They just want to know there's light at the end of the tunnel."

Was that possible? He sure hoped so because he wanted nothing more than another chance with his neighbor.

Even if he wasn't ready.

Linc heaved himself to his feet. "I'm gonna head out. Catch ya later."

"Yeah, later." The moment his cousin cleared the doorway, his phone buzzed, and he glanced at the display. "What the hell?" He answered the call immediately. "Birch, you son of bitch. I hope this call doesn't mean I have to rescue you out of some hell hole."

"Brother, I would call the team boys if that were the case, not some pansy-ass Green Beret."

"Good to know," he snorted.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, you know, just out here shaking shit up," Birch answered with a laugh.

"When are you coming home?"

"Soon, brother."

Knowing Birch wouldn't call without a real good reason, he waited, hoping that whatever it was wouldn't require him to stand at another grave.

"Got some intel, and I wanted to pass it on."

"Oh, yeah…"

"Seems your girl is on her way home. My source suggested that you get your act together and do something called a grand gesture. I'm not sure what that means, but I was assured you would understand."

Flummoxed, Zane sat back. Birch lived deep in the black ops community, and he was reasonably confident that few people knew that he was A, alive or B, how to get in touch. Since Olivia was with her baby sister, he couldn't see how those worlds bisected. "Any chance you'll reveal your source?"

"Nah. But when I get home, I expect to meet this lucky lady and get a full download on why my contact is so invested in the outcome."

"Don't think Olivia considers herself lucky, but that's a tale for another day."

"Hence the grand gesture, I'm assuming."

"Whatever the hell that is."

"Get on it, Z. Nobody is better than making something out of nothing than you." Birch chuckled into the phone. "I still remember how you got the toaster to shoot the bread far enough so we wouldn't have to get up from the table."

"That was some of my finer work."

"Not even close."

Zane heard his brother mumble something. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I gotta go do a thing."

"Stay frosty, Birch."

"Always."

The call ended, and he studied his phone and tried to puzzle out how his brother had come to dispense advice from across the globe. At least, he assumed that's where he was. For all he knew, he was in Miami Beach sipping mojitos.

Grand gesture. What the hell was that?

Did it involve explosives or a bunch of flowers? He had no idea.

One thing he knew for certain was that it needed to include chips, chocolate ice cream, and wine. Olivia liked him best when she had all three available, so he'd be a fool not to have plenty on hand.

He glanced down at Killer. "Feel free to jump in with any ideas. I'm totally open." The dog dropped his head and let out a sigh of resignation. "Not the kind of support I was looking for."

No matter; he wasn't going to be put off. He'd been one of the better tacticians in his unit, and coming up with something grand was undoubtedly in his wheelhouse.

It couldn't be any more complicated than squashing an insurrection, could it?