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“Sailors?” Ty asked. “They were there for Doc?”


Nick shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought they were. I went back upstairs, found his doctor, and . . .” Nick pushed at the back of his teeth with his tongue, trying to work up the nerve to finish. “I bribed him to say Kelly was no longer fit for service.”


Ty sat up straighter, eyes wide. “You what?”


Nick rubbed at his chin, lowering his head.


“Jesus Christ, Nick,” Ty whispered he glanced over his shoulder. “Does he know?”


Nick shook his head.


“He can barely walk; there’s no way he’d have been called back, regardless,” Zane pointed out. “Right?”


“I have to tell him,” Nick said.


Ty put his hand on Nick’s knee to draw his attention back. “You can’t do that, man.”


“You didn’t see the way he reacted when they came for me and not him. I can’t leave him behind thinking he wasn’t good enough to come with us.”


“That is your guilt talking and making you sound like an idiot,” Ty hissed. “He’s not physically able to go back. We know that. He knows that. He’s not stupid. No matter what you did, Doc wouldn’t be coming with us. Nothing you can tell him is going to make him feel better about that.”


Nick closed his eyes. Damn Ty and his unscrupulous ability to make sense out of lying. When he glanced up again, he saw Kelly working his way across the crowded terminal with Owen in tow.


Ty tapped Nick’s knee. “Do you really want him left behind knowing you did this? It can wait until we get back.”


“Just stop talking, Beaumont,” Nick grunted. “You’re like the Bermuda Triangle of morals.”


Zane snorted and covered it with a cough.


“Fine, be that way,” Ty said. “Go be a goddamn white knight.”


“Will he even be angry at all?” Zane asked quietly. “Is Kelly capable of being angry?”


Nick was silent, watching Kelly. He really only had two options. He could man the fuck up and tell Kelly what he’d done, risking his anger here at the eleventh hour. Or he could keep it to himself, working on the logic that Kelly legitimately wouldn’t have been recalled anyway. Nick’s actions probably had nothing to do with it. But he’d go off to war with the nagging feeling that he was a coward and a horrible friend.


He pushed to his feet before he could talk himself out of it, striding to meet Kelly and Owen as they approached the lounge area. Owen greeted him with a sedate hug. Nick took Kelly’s arm and held on as Owen headed for Ty and Zane.


“You okay?” Kelly asked when Nick didn’t let go of him.


“I have something I need to tell you.”


Kelly glanced at the others and Nick did the same. Owen shook Zane’s hand before settling onto the floor beside Ty. Nick found it harder to breathe, but he took Kelly by both shoulders and turned him to face him to make him focus.


“Just be quiet until I finish saying this.”


“If this is your way of professing your undying love for me, you need some work on your technique,” Kelly drawled.


“I’m the reason you didn’t get recalled with us,” Nick said in a quiet rush.


Kelly’s smile fell and he straightened. “What?”


Nick told him what he’d done in New Orleans, and why he’d done it. “I saw a chance to keep one of us from going back over there, and I took it. I was trying to . . . save you.”


Kelly gaped, finally tearing his eyes away from Nick to glance at the others, who were now watching them. He took a step back, jerking out of Nick’s grasp.


“Kels, I—”


“How the hell could you do this?” Kelly shouted. He shoved at Nick’s shoulder and almost immediately grabbed for his chest, hunching with the pain he’d obviously forgotten would come.


Nick reached to steady him. Kelly swatted at his hand again but Nick gripped his elbow hard and held on, refusing to be pushed away. “I’m sorry,” he said, repeating it again and again as Kelly tried to shove him away.


A hand landed on Nick’s shoulder, and Owen and Ty were there with them, pulling them apart. Ty gripped Nick’s elbows, restraining him. Owen held Kelly’s waist to keep him upright, thinking he’d overworked himself and was about to collapse. But Kelly growled and lashed out, catching Nick’s chin with his fist before Owen could pull him away.


Nick and Ty both tumbled to the ground.


“Jesus Christ,” Ty grunted. He released Nick immediately, giving him the chance to defend himself. Nick didn’t move, though.


Kelly stood with his hands on his knees, breathing hard and hanging his head. Owen hovered beside him, a hand on Kelly’s back, looking supremely confused.


“What the fuck is going on?” Digger shouted. He stood a few feet away, his seabag on his shoulder.


“Jesus Christ, that really hurt,” Kelly gasped. He straightened carefully, holding his chest. “I feel better now.”


Digger dropped his bag and helped Ty and Nick to their feet.


“Did that hurt?” Kelly asked Nick.


Nick rubbed his jaw, nodding. “Little bit, yeah.”


“Good,” Kelly huffed.


He grabbed for Nick’s shoulder, catching the material of his shirt and pulling him closer with it. Relief washed through Nick as Kelly hugged him. He rested his chin on Kelly’s shoulder and held him tight.


“You did it out of love,” Kelly whispered. He patted Nick’s shoulder. “And I’d still be stuck here no matter what you did, so . . . you did it out of love. It’s okay.”


“What the hell happened?” Digger asked again. “And what happened to Doc’s neck?”


Kelly snorted in Nick’s ear and they both began to laugh.


“You two have spent too much time in Doc’s weed,” Owen said, walking away now that the drama had passed. The others trailed after him, leaving Nick and Kelly to their embrace.


They sat in a sedate group as the minutes ticked down. Their flight to Jacksonville, North Carolina, was leaving soon, and the last hours felt too heavy to fill with anything meaningful. Nothing would be special enough, so they spent the time telling stories and laughing.


Kelly still hadn’t quite come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t be going with them. What the hell was he supposed to do? He kept glancing at Nick. He couldn’t even be upset by what Nick had told him. He knew Nick always acted on an almost desperate instinct to protect the people he loved.


Kelly had been joking when he’d guessed Nick was about to profess his undying love, but he hadn’t been too far off the mark. Nick’s technique was pretty damn good, if not subtle as hell.


They were listening to the story of how Ty had pulled a Rhett Butler on Zane in the middle of the Baltimore FBI field office when they heard the boarding announcement for the flight that would take the boys away.


Kelly’s heart jumped into his throat.


Everyone was silent and stoic as they gathered their seabags and walked as a group toward the nearby gate. They gathered at the boarding lanes, trying to figure out how to say good-bye, trying to decide which gestures would last for a lifetime of memories if someone didn’t come home.


Ty wrapped Zane up in a hug, his murmured words too low to overhear. They stood that way, grasping each other for dear life.


Kelly took Owen’s hand and shook it, pulling him into a hug. “Be safe, bud,” he whispered.


“You know what to do, right?” Owen asked.


Kelly nodded and released him. Both Nick and Owen had put Kelly in charge of their affairs. Nick because he had no one else he trusted, and Owen because his parents didn’t have the security clearance.


Owen backed away and let Digger move in for a hug. He bypassed the handshake entirely and picked Kelly up, squeezing him to the point that it hurt. Kelly laughed breathlessly and patted his back until Digger set him down again. Digger turned away without a word, sniffing audibly.


Kelly forced himself to meet Nick’s eyes. Nick moved close and hugged him gently, pressing their cheeks together, his warm hands splayed against Kelly’s back. “I don’t have the words,” he whispered.


“You don’t need them,” Kelly said shakily. “Just watch your damn six out there.”


Nick nodded jerkily and moved away, his head down and his shoulders slumped. Kelly fought back tears as he looked at the three of them. His boys.


Ty grabbed Kelly’s face and kissed his forehead, patting his cheek. “Be good,” he said gruffly before moving away. He joined the others, all of them turning to face Kelly and Zane. They went to attention without a word, standing shoulder to shoulder. Then each of them gave a sharp salute.


Kelly finally lost control and let the tears track down his face without wiping them away. He straightened and returned their salute, holding it until the four remaining members of Force Recon Team Sidewinder turned away and headed for the gangway, walking once again into the fray.


Not one of them looked back.


“Oh God,” Zane whispered.


“They’ll be okay,” Kelly said shakily.


Zane sniffed and nodded. “Yeah. It’s us I’m worried about.”


Kelly didn’t tear his eyes away from the gangway until the last man was out of sight. Then he turned to Zane. “Nick O’Flaherty doesn’t make a promise he doesn’t intend to die trying to keep.”


“He made me a promise,” Zane said.


Kelly nodded, swallowing hard. “Me too.”


Zane was on his way up the stairs when the doorbell rang. He debated not answering it, but ultimately he headed back down, grumbling. It was Sunday, his only day off, and he didn’t want to deal with any shit today.


He peered through the peephole, and his heart stuttered when he saw the Marine on the stoop. He was wearing a green and khaki service uniform, a barracks cover on his head. A seabag was slung over his shoulder, and he stood straight and tall as he looked out on the street, his back to the door.


Zane fumbled with the lock, his fingers suddenly unable to keep up with his racing heart. Was it news? Was it good or bad news? Why the hell would a Marine be standing on his stoop if it wasn’t news?


He swung the door open, feeling stupid and clumsy as the man turned to face him.


“O’Flaherty?”


Nick gave him a wan smile and held up his hand. “No one’s hurt.”


Zane glared at him. He wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. And he wasn’t sure whether to hug him or hit him.


Nick laughed at Zane’s expression, the sound flat and tired. “Nothing’s wrong, I promise.”


Zane looked him up and down, inspecting him for injuries that would have sent him home. None were visible. “Why are you here? How are you here?”


“Forty-eight-hour special liberty.”


Zane frowned harder. He realized he was still gripping the door, and his knuckles hurt. He let go and shook his hand. “Special liberty?” he asked carefully.


“I have a cold,” Nick answered, deadpan. He waited a beat. “Can I come in?”


Zane started, nodding as he stepped out of the way. “Yeah. Shit. Sorry, I just . . .”


“Panicked, I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t have anywhere to change out of the uniform,” Nick said as he stepped inside. He set his seabag down by the door, the same spot Ty always dropped his gym bag when he was tired after a long day.


Zane stared at it for a moment, letting the pain settle in his chest before he tried to take another breath. He finally tore his eyes away and tried to smile at Nick. Nick was watching him. He seemed exhausted, but his frown was sympathetic. He had to sense Zane’s disappointment that he wasn’t Ty.


“You look good,” Zane managed to say with a wave of his hand at Nick.


Nick smirked. “I know. Marines always look good.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a leather billfold that appeared to hold his orders, then pulled a creased and battered envelope from the billfold and handed it to Zane.


Zane stared at it, licking his lips and steeling himself before he reached for it. It was warm against his fingers, and the simple scrawl of his name was familiar. It was from Ty, but it had the appearance of a letter that had seen many nights in someone’s pocket. Zane knew a lot of soldiers, sailors, and Marines left a letter with a buddy in case they didn’t make it home. If Nick had been carrying this letter around every day for that reason, Zane didn’t want to read it. “This isn’t . . .”


“He knew I was coming home,” Nick answered, voice gentle. “He wrote it before I left.”


Zane released the breath he’d been holding in a rush. He turned the letter over, fingers shaking, desperate to rip it open and read the first communication he’d received from Ty in months.


Nick cleared his throat. “Garrett. I know my way around if you want to take that upstairs and read it. You can write him a response and I’ll carry it back with me.”


Zane blinked at him, fighting to breathe. “You only have forty-eight hours. You shouldn’t waste them.”


Nick raised both eyebrows and shook his head. “I’m not.”


Zane stared at him for another breathless second, then lunged and wrapped Nick up in a hug. Nick began to laugh, patting him on the back awkwardly. “Go on,” he finally urged. “I’m going to steal some of Ty’s Cubans while you do that.”


“Deal.” Zane backed away and then turned to head up the stairs, the letter pressed to his hip so his fingers wouldn’t tremble as he held it. He heard Nick in the kitchen, probably retrieving the portable safe Ty kept hidden below the kitchen sink where he stowed his Cuban cigars. Zane didn’t even care that Nick knew it was there. He went to his bedroom and sat on the end of the bed, staring down at the letter from Ty.