Home to Stay by Maryann Jordan

10

John walked into Moose’s Bar again, only this time the nerves snaking through him were tinged with eager excitement. His eyes adjusted to the dark interior quickly, and he spotted Mace sitting with a large group at two tables pushed together. A grin stretched his lips as he shot his gaze over the others. Fit, muscular bodies. Sharp, intelligent eyes that were clocking him as soon as he entered. Even if he hadn’t been told they were Special Ops, it was evident to him that they were more than your average soldiers. For an instant, it was like walking into a bar near the base in North Carolina where his team was stationed between missions.

Mace stood as he approached, his hand out in greeting. “John, good to see you, again.”

“Mace, thanks for inviting me here.”

Mace turned to the others sitting at the table. “I’ve got a few of my friends here for you to meet as well. Starting to my left are Walker, Drew, Babs, and Rank. Across the table are Tate, Cobb, Blake, Josh, and Bray.”

At the last introduction, he did a double-take, his eyes widening in recognition at the man grinning up at him. “Allan Bray? Holy shit, man.” Bray laughed as he stood up, wrapping him in a bear hug, both men slapping each other on the back.

Separating, he glanced over to see the others grinning and Mace’s eyes pinned on the two men. “Bray and I never served on the same team, but we ran a few joint missions. If shit went down, he was a well-known medic.”

Bray laughed, offering a shrug toward Mace. “I didn’t recognize the name John Roster when you mentioned it. I just knew him as Wrecker. Best demolition sergeant.”

After that surprise, John settled next to Mace and ordered a beer. Bray looked over, his smile still firmly in place before turning to the other Keepers. “This guy destroyed a fuckin’ munitions compound on a mission. Did it faster than anyone on either team thought possible. The rest of his team had to hustle to get the recovery out of there. My team’s eighteen-C was one of the best, but he was fuckin’ green with envy over that job you completed.”

Tension eased as John relaxed, thrilled that with that one endorsement from Bray the others smiled, their gazes less assessing than he’d recognized when he walked in.

The conversation amongst the gathering was light considering they were in public, focusing mostly on their military careers. To an observer, it would appear as members of the local American Legion having a few beers after a meeting. It was easy to spot the teasing, competitive camaraderie between the former Navy SEALs and the Army Rangers, Deltas, and Special Forces. He discovered that Drew was their pilot and Bray continued to function as a medic. After an hour, he was completely at ease and impressed as hell with what Mace had brought together for his business.

As Mace signaled to the server for another round, he shifted toward John. “If you’re interested, I’d like to offer you a chance to come to visit our headquarters. There would be an NDA for you to sign, and if we come to an agreement after that, a probationary employment status would take effect.”

He forced his breathing to remain steady, glancing down the table to see the smiles on the others’ faces before turning back to the boss. “Mace, I don’t have to think about it more than what I already have. I’m honored to have this opportunity.”

Mace’s stone expression cracked slightly as his lips curved upward. He held out his hand and the two men clasped palms together. “I’ll have Sylvie, my wife as well as our office manager, call you with the details.”

The server brought more pitchers, and the conversations once again became easy. The crowd in Moose’s Bar was small, making it easy to observe the other patrons, all seeming to know Mace, occasionally tossing up a hand or chin lift in greeting. The comfortable vibe made it evident that when the door opened and a few bikers walked and headed to the back, the group he was with stiffened, their eyes sharp once again. John spied the same insignia on their patches as the ones that had been there the other night—the same ones Paula had been hanging with.

Tuning in to the others’ reactions, he looked to Mace. “What do you know about them?”

Mace’s granite expression gave no emotion other than the glitter in his eyes. “Idle curiosity?”

“Not at all. A… friend was in here the other night with someone who was hanging around guys with the same patches. Gave me a bad feeling. Lucy wants nothing to do with them, but I’m not sure about her friend.”

“Lucy?” Babs asked, her brow quirked upward.

He glanced down at the table. “Lucy Carrington. Local teacher. Her class project was me.” Seeing the questioning stares peering at him, he shook his head. “They wrote to a local soldier. I was the lucky bastard who got a piece of home sent to him each month. Met the teacher and the class when I got back.” Turning back to Mace, he said, “She’s solid, but I’ve got a bad feeling about her friend who was cozying up to one of them.”

“Minotaurs.”

The one word growled from Mace had no meaning to John so he remained silent, waiting for more.

“Outlaw biker gang, mostly in Canada. Work with Hell’s Angels here as part of their pipeline. Run drugs, guns, women, and if our intel is correct, possibly more.” He leaned closer, his voice cold with conviction. “You tell Lucy to stay the hell away from them at all costs. Her friend doesn’t follow suit? Then Lucy should not engage, not challenge. She disengages, even from the friendship.”

“Fuck,” John cursed as he exhaled heavily. “Lucy and this friend are going to Sherbrooke in Quebec this weekend to a music concert. Her friend has already promised that it’s music only and nothing to do with the bikers.”

“Fuck. Minotaurs and Hell’s Angels’ territory,” Clay murmured. “Dealt with them before.”

The cold fingers of fear for her threatened to overtake the good time he was having, and he pulled out his phone, tapping out a text.

Worried about you. Paula’s new friends are trouble. Take care and remember to call me if you have any problems.

He sighed and shoved his phone back into his pocket, uncertain when she would get the message or how she’d react. He’d stupidly walked away from her, forcing them into the friend-only zone. At least, I hope we’re friends. He wasn’t sure about that status, but it seemed after his visit yesterday to her class, she’d warmed up to him again. He reached up and squeezed the back of his neck, swallowing his grimace so as not to draw attention to himself.

The gathering soon broke up, the others taking off in their vehicles after he shook their hands, accepting their enthusiasm for his visit to the Lighthouse headquarters. When it was just him, Bray, and Mace left in the parking lot, he turned to the iconic leader of the Keepers. “Mace, I can’t thank you enough for the opportunity.”

“I’m a good judge of character, John, but have to admit that you having Bray’s commendation goes a long way as well. I’ll have my Sylvie get in touch and send the paperwork you’ll need to complete before a meeting on our turf.” With a final wave, Mace turned and climbed into his large SUV.

He looked at Bray and shook his hand. “Thanks, man. This means the world to me.”

“It’s you, Wrecker. Mace won’t take just anyone who served in Special Operations. Just being a former military elite isn’t nearly enough to make a Keeper. But you impressed him, and what I know of you, you’ll be an asset.” Bray chuckled, clapping John on the shoulder. “Hell, man, I’m thrilled. It’ll be great to finally work on the same team with you.”

With final handshakes, he walked toward his SUV, glancing to the side at the bikes parked nearby. Minotaurs. Drugs. Guns. Women. And Paula’s got Lucy on their radar. Fuckin’ hell.

For the drive to Gramps’, he thought of how to convince Lucy that she was better off not going on her trip but came up empty. Parking outside, he smiled as Gramps waved from the porch. Walking toward him, Gramps grinned.

“You look like it went well, boy.”

Nodding, he opened the front door, allowing his grandfather to enter before him. “It did. Turns out I knew one of the men who works for Mace. We’d met in the service.”

Gramps turned a sharp eye to him. “Good. Always helps to have someone on the inside to put in a good word.”

“You hungry, Gramps?” he asked as they walked into the kitchen. “I can rustle up some chops.”

“Wouldn’t turn ‘em down if they came at me.”

Grinning, he moved about the small kitchen, starting to work on dinner.

“So… you gettin’ the job?” Gramps pressed, settling into a kitchen chair.

“Probationary status. Got some forms to fill out, and I’ll make a trip there to check out their headquarters, see what they do, and make sure it’ll be a fit for me.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll be a fit.” Placing the chops into the cast iron frying pan, he twisted around to look over his shoulder. “You know, it’s kind of weird, but I met a fellow serviceman at the airport when I was coming here. He talked to me about the security business. I’d just never made a backup plan, so I hadn’t given it any thought. But,” he shrugged and turned back to the stove, “it feels right”

“Sometimes that’s all we can go on, boy. Make a decision based on what our brain tells us makes sense and our gut tells us is right.”

An image of Lucy flashed through his mind. He’d spent eight months thinking she was an older, grandmotherly woman, just getting to know her as a caring person and teacher. Meeting her in person put his admiration squarely in sync with his overwhelming, newfound attraction to her. My gut told me she was right. Why the hell didn’t I listen to it instead of my insecurities?

By the time he climbed into bed, his excitement over his new career path with Lighthouse Security was overshadowed by thoughts of Lucy. He wished he had a do-over of their date a week ago. A chance to tell her he was getting a job. He had a future. How life had changed so quickly, and unlike when he was injured, this time it was for the better.

He tried to read for an hour, but after turning the pages realized he hadn’t actually read the words. Finally, his phone vibrated and he grabbed it off the nightstand. Dropping his chin, he read the message.

Thanks for the heads up. I’ll be fine. Just going for the music. Have a nice weekend.

While her message wasn’t dismissive, it sure as fuck wasn’t encouraging, either.