Despite It All by Reese Knightley
Greene
The quiet of the night was only broken by the soft murmur of voices. The fire pit blazed, lighting up the darkened sky, and the ocean lapped at the shore. The smell of sea, sand, and soot filled the night air.
The food had been delicious, the conversation light and funny, until Forest changed. It was a subtle change, but one minute he was smiling and having a good time and the next, he was not.
He should have just played it off and said that ribs sounded good for next time, but the lies were stacking up. Time was running out, so when the night started winding down after dessert and after Mason left for the evening, he set about restoring Forest’s good humor.
Hefting Forest over his shoulder, he’d ran with the laughing man to the water’s edge.
“No! Joshua!”
With a chuckle, he sat Forest on his feet and snagged a few kisses. It worked. And when relief swept through those bright eyes, he let out a relieved breath of his own.
Back on the patio, he settled into his chair, content to watch the flicker of flame reflecting in Forest’s and his mom’s hair. His eyes snagged on Forest, who flashed him a quick smile, dimples popping.
He soaked it in.
Every drop for as long as he could.
Forest’s pocket must have buzzed, because the man tugged out his cell phone. He glanced at the phone, then up at him, the shocked look on Forest’s face would have knocked him off his feet if he hadn’t been sitting.
Forest jerked his head toward the beach and started walking.
“I’ll give you two some privacy,” Forest’s mom said and stood, taking her cup into the house.
He shoved from the chair and followed barefoot out onto the sandy beach.
Forest had his cell phone on speaker.
“Brat? Did you hear me? Come get me,” a woman’s voice came over the phone.
Forest was breathing as if he’d been running, taking huge gulps of air.
He figured it had to be who he hoped it was and took charge. Stepping closer, he spoke at the phone.
“Summer?”
“Yes, who’s this?”
“US Army Sergeant Greene, I’m a friend of Forest’s.”
“Where are you?” Forest blurted, cutting off any response Summer may have made to him.
“In some alley next to a shitty warehouse.” She coughed long and hard.
“Streets, Summer, we need street names,” he said gruffly.
“You want me to walk to a street?” she grumbled and he fought a smile, liking her already.
“What phone number are you calling from?” He took over the conversation when Forest appeared to be in shock.
“A homeless guy let me use his phone.” She rattled off the number and he was yanking out his phone and giving thanks to the homeless at the same time.
“Greene?” Liam answered on the first ring.
“Summer called him, trace this number.”
“I can have Jerry do it.” Forest snapped out of his funk.
“Stay on the phone with Summer.” He shook his head. “Liam can have Colin check.”
“Stay on the phone, Summer.” Forest said.
“I will as long as I can.” She coughed.
“Tell your mom we’re leaving. I have an emergency.” He ushered Forest back through the house, shoved into his shoes, and slipped on his jacket.
Forest was calm, even with the fisted phone in his hand. He kissed his mother and they hurried from the house, promising to call her soon.
He guided the SUV through the dark, racing down streets, following the address Colin had been able to get on the homeless person’s cell phone. Forest kept the line open with Summer.
He whipped the vehicle around the corner and barreled down the alley. Half way down, he saw a woman sitting with her ass on the ground, long hair in tangles, torn shirt, and bare feet. He slammed on the brakes. The tires skidded with a squeal and Forest was out and running.
“Summer!” Forest yelled, and fell to his knees next to the woman.
He jumped out of the SUV and jogged up to the small group.
“Hey, Four.” Summer coughed.
“I got her.” He stepped up and gently lifted Summer into his arms.
Forest picked up the phone and handed it to the man sitting on the cardboard box.
“Thank you,” Forest said.
“No problemo,” the man said.
“I don’t have cash, but I can come back.”
“Don’t worry about it. Love those shoes, though.”
Forest sat on the dirty ground and tore off his red sneakers and the guy took them with a smile.
He placed Summer gently in the back seat of his SUV.
“You’re handsome.”
“Thank you.” He smiled and clipped the seat belt around her. “Any internal injuries?”
“I don’t think so. Are you Joshua Greene?”
“I am.”
“He’s been crushing on you for a long time.” She coughed and wrapped arms around her stomach. The far door of the SUV opened and Forest crowded in, pulling Summer into his arms.
He closed the door and broke all kinds of traffic laws on the way to the hospital.
“Oh, Summer.”
Through the rearview mirror, he watched Forest cradle Summer close, his hand holding her head to his chest, rocking her.
The hospital was overrun by agents. He sat in the corner watching them coming and going. A commotion in the emergency room brought his gaze around and Liam entered.
He didn’t need to move, the man’s sharp gaze raced around the room until he spotted him and the colonel stalked closer. Filing in behind Liam was the rest of the unit.
“How’s she doing?”
“Forest came out a few minutes ago. She’s got a few broken ribs, some minor cuts and bruises, but she’s going to make it.”
“That’s great.” Liam settled his big frame into the chair across from him.
“Aren’t you supposed to be watching the safe house?”
“Robert Shawl showed up about the time you got the call from Summer.”
“And?”
Liam shook his head. “He was ready for war. He went out in a hail of bullets. The FBI is closing the loop on the terrorist as we speak.”
“So, it’s over?” Forest’s soft voice drew his gaze and he stood.
“Yeah.” He smiled.
Forest took a step toward him and then stopped.
“Okay.” Liam took a deep breath and stood. “We’ll wait for you in the SUV, Greene.”
Forest’s eyes widened and locked with his.
“I’ll meet you back at the motel,” he said gruffly.
Liam didn’t argue. He stepped forward and offered his hand to Forest. “Congratulations, Agent Taylor. Job well done.”
“Thank you for your help, Colonel.” Forest shook the man’s hand.
The men filed out, but he couldn’t move. His gut churned. Forest licked at his bottom lip and then jerked his head at the emergency room doors.
He followed Forest outside.
“So, you’re leaving?” Forest looked bewildered.
“Yes.”
“Just like that?” Forest’s voice sounded hollow.
Forest had to know this was temporary. His gut soured.
“This,” he waved a hand between them, “won’t work.”
“We were working just fine.”
“For the short term.”
“Short term?” Forest gaped, then his mouth closed and his lips trembled.
He squeezed his hands into fists.
“I’m falling for you,” Forest whispered.
His throat closed and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans to keep from reaching out. Don’t say it, he silently pleaded. Don’t make this any harder than it already was.
“Nothing to say?”
“I said it already.” The words scraped his throat, coming out raw.
“I know you feel something for me.” Forest reached out and fisted his jacket.
God help him, he cupped Forest’s face and brushed a thumb over his bottom lip.
“Goodbye, Forest.” He dropped his hands and backed away. Then turned and walked away.
It was better to leave Forest thinking him an asshole rather than a drunk.
“Greene!”
He didn’t look back.
He couldn’t.
What the hell did Forest want from him? Those baby blues washed with tears haunted him. He squeezed the steering wheel and then punched the dashboard, driving to the motel without registering the drive. He pulled into the cracked and cratered parking lot, and parked crookedly.
Stepping out of the SUV, he lit up a cigarette and sucked it in deep. He’d almost made it another twenty-four hours. Now it didn’t matter if he quit.
Nothing mattered.
The air felt good against his heated face and a slight drizzle had kicked up again. January weather was far from over.
He shut off everything. All his memories, all the perfect visions, and all the hope.
Across the street, a flashing sign caught his attention of the local store and he jogged across the wet asphalt. Tossing his cigarette to the gutter, he pushed at the metal bar and stepped inside.
The bell chimed over the door when it swung shut, and the dark-haired man behind the plexiglass glanced up. The scent of hot coffee, fried food, and bleach filled the small space of the convenient store.
“Pack of reds.” He nodded at a popular brand behind the counter over the guy’s shoulder.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, hang on.”
The back wall was lined with glass doors and he numbly made his way to the end where the sodas were shelved.
He paused in front of the bottles and then walked along the doors until he spotted a decadent amber liquid. Not only amber, but dark browns and greens, bottles and cans of every size and shape with eye catching labels.
The smiling eyes of Jimmy, Scott, and Dean were reflected in the glass doors. As if his buddies were really there ready to party and not six feet under. The teasing light in their eyes, egging him on. Or were they telling him to call it quits? He didn’t know. He couldn’t be sure. His eyes burned and he blinked up at the ceiling, squeezing his hands, his nails cutting into his palms.
He blew out a hard breath and rubbed a hand over his mouth. Fucking Jimmy. He’d made life bearable on the battlefield, keeping them rolling with jokes. And Scott and Dean, too, with tales of their childhood. Those two had grown up together.
When he looked again, they were gone. Their faces faded and replaced with Forest’s blue eyes and lush lips. Only this time, the eyes he loved so fiercely were filled with a hurt he could never fix. Hell yes, he loved Forest. He’d fallen hard. But Forest was a forever kind of man and he, well, he wasn’t worthy.
The doorbell chimed, ripping him back into the sounds and bleach smells of the store.
“Greene?” It was Holden.
“Yeah, back here.” He moved over two doors and grabbed a Dr. Pepper, the bottle wet and cold in his hand.
“Wondered where you got to.”
“Needed smokes.” He stepped past the other man and placed the soda on the counter.
Flipping out a twenty, he collected his change, tucked away the cigarettes, and followed Holden out the door.
On the sidewalk stood Liam.
Holden jogged across the street to Zane and Isaac.
“You good?” Liam asked.
He gazed down at the soda in his hand. “No.”
“Talk to me.” Liam fisted his jacket and pulled him to the side of the store.
“I love him.”
“I can see that.”
“I don’t…” He sucked in a deep breath.
“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“He was hit by a drunk driver!” He dashed at his eyes.
“He was,” Liam said slowly.
“I’m a fucking drunk.” He half laughed, but it came out all choked up and shit. “How ironic is that?”
“You didn’t tell him you’re recovering?”
“No.” He wiped a hand at his mouth.
“Why not?”
“Because he’ll hate me. Hell, I hate me.”
“Greene, I’m going to give you an order and I hope to god you take it. You find that man and you tell him that you love him and you tell him the truth.”
“What if he turns away?”
“Then you’ve done your best.”
“Sir!” Beckett shouted from across the street.
“What is it?”
“It’s the Secretary of Defense. He says we’ve got a problem.”
“What problem?” Liam growled, but didn’t look away from him.
“We didn’t get the head of the mole.”
“Fucking shit,” Liam snapped and ran back across the street.
He was on the guy’s heels. His mind racing. Who the fuck was the mole?
“Liam?” Dave said over the speaker phone.
“I’m here.”
“Forest left me a goddamned voicemail!” Dave snarled. “The mole called him again and arranged to meet.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Ping Forest’s phone. That’s where he’ll be.”
“We’re on it.”
“I’ve already got it pinged.” Colin stepped up, holding his phone.
“At the hospital still?” He stepped closer and looked at the screen.
“No.” Colin shook his head.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Liam’s mouth dropped open. “Forest is at the goddamned office,” Liam said.
Fucking hell.
“He couldn’t call us?” he growled.
“Apparently not.” Liam squinted at him.
Fuck! He racked his fingers hard through his hair and squeezed his hands into fists.
“Let’s find him and get his ass back here. We can plan and take on the mole together,” Liam barked.
They all raced for the SUV, but he took the wheel.
“Maybe he went to the office for backup,” Beckett said from the back seat.
“Maybe,” he said, clenching his teeth.
Backup, my ass. Oh, he’d find Forest, alright, and when he did, he was going to beat the man. It was official, the minute he got his hands on Forest Taylor he was…he was…
Bitter and sour bile lodged in his throat, and he squeezed the wheel, punching the gas.
The silence in the vehicle was deafening as they plunged through the darkened streets.
Please, God, let me get there in time.