Stinger - Sheridan Mia - Страница 41

• Предыдущая
• 41/79
• Следующая

Julia went next, opening her box. "Well, I said two years ago that I thought he'd follow in Dad's footsteps and go to the police academy after graduation. I think this year, he'd have gotten his first award for bravery in the line of duty." She grinned and so did we. She hung her ornament, a gold medal with the word, 'Congratulations' above it.

We both looked at Audrey, and she took her ornament out and held it up, a couple in wedding attire. "I think there would have been two weddings for our family this year," she said, tears in her eyes. We all hugged each other and shed a few tears and after a few minutes, we lay back down under the tree and continued whispering until our eyes were heavy and we dragged ourselves back up to bed.

Carson

It was Christmas day, the shortest day of the year in Afghanistan. It was six o'clock in the evening and already pitch black outside, the sounds of the winter night desert picking up all around us. Four other SEAL's and I were sitting on the dirt floor of an abandoned cave in the mountains outside Kabul.

Noah Dean, my buddy since SEAL training, and the quietest of us all, had been assigned to the same platoon. When Noah spoke up, we all listened, knowing that if he took the time to say something, it was gonna be important. And there was Josh Garner from Dallas, a cocky shit-talker on the outside, but a man you could trust with your life if it became necessary. I knew that, because on several occasions, it had become necessary. Also, Leland McManus, our lieutenant, the son of a casino tycoon from Las Vegas, and Eli Williams who we nicknamed, "Preacher," because he was always saying some profound shit, even though he liked to talk smack as much as the rest of us.

We had just opened our MRE's and were "enjoying" what was our Christmas feast. Josh held up a spoonful of what looked like beef stew and stuck it in his mouth. "Cheers, assholes, Merry Fucking Christmas," he said through his mouthful.

We all snickered and then raised our instant coffee up to each other. "Merry Christmas," was mumbled all around.

"God!" Eli moaned out, leaning his head back, "This is better than my mama's turkey and gravy!"

"Your mama must cook like shit then," Leland offered up.

Eli nodded over at him. "Yeah, I gave that one to ya, didn't I, asswipe? Merry Christmas. Consider that your gift."

Noah and I both shook our heads, me chuckling softly and Noah smiling.

"First thing I'm gonna do when I get back to the US of A is get myself the biggest, juiciest cheeseburger–maybe two," I said, looking suspiciously at the fruit dish.

"First thing I'm gonna do is get myself the biggest, juiciest pussy–maybe two," Josh said, spooning some rice into his mouth.

Eli made a disgusted sound.

Josh looked over at him. "What? Don't tell me that just because you're married, you're looking forward to getting home to your wife so you can engage her in a good game of checkers?"

Eli chuckled. "No, but I don't talk about making love to my wife in vulgar terms. You'll see, intimacy with a woman you're in love with is the ultimate experience. You have no idea, you sorry fucker."

Josh was silent for a beat, a horrified expression on his face. "Man. That's… that's beautiful. You know, when we get back home, there's this play that would probably pay big bucks for that speech. It's called 'The Vagina Monologues.' You might wanna look into that."

We all laughed, even Eli, but he finished it with a "Fuck you, bro."

"I just might… pretty mouth on you, all that 'making love' talk. We could put on some Sade, talk about our feelings–"

BOOM! We all startled and went silent, looking around at each other and starting to gesture with our hands and eyes about what moves to make.

Gunfire erupted not too far away and we all dropped our meals and went for our weapons. It was on.

One year, seven months later, July

Grace

"Crap!" I swore, as the bottom dropped out of the box of books I was carrying down the hallway to my new office, as books landed on the carpeted floor with a loud thud.

I put the now empty cardboard down on the floor, squatted down and started piling the books up so that I could carry them to my desk.

I couldn't believe I was here–in Las Vegas, Nevada again, starting my new job.

When it had become clear that moving out of the juvenile court in D.C. was going to be a long time coming, I had started half-heartedly applying to jobs in other cities. I didn't necessarily expect anything to come of it, but I had been surprised when I had heard back from the D.A. in Clark County almost immediately. After a lengthy interview process, I was offered the job of a prosecutor in the Clark County Criminal Division, serving Las Vegas. My dream job. Taking a job in Vegas felt… strange. I wasn't sure how being back in the city where I had spent a life-changing weekend was going to affect me. But I reminded myself that it wasn't like Carson lived here–he lived in Los Angeles, at least as far as I knew, he still did. But just driving past the Bellagio when I had flown in for my in-person interview caused a swarm of butterflies to take up flight in my belly. I had to believe that that reaction would fade over time, as, after all, it had been almost five years since that weekend. It was just because it was the first time I had been back and it dredged up the distant memory. That was all. Pretty soon, seeing it enough, it would just be another hotel on the strip.

It was funny being here again too because in part, this job, back in this city, was a direct reflection of that weekend with Carson–he had encouraged me to follow my own dreams, to do what made me happy. And look where I had ended up. Life was wild.

"Can I help?" a male voice asked and I looked up into a smiling pair of the bluest eyes I'd ever seen.

I smiled back and picked up one of the two piles of books I had already made, and stood up. "Thanks, that would be great," I said.

He bent down and picked up the other pile and followed me to my office, less than fifty feet down the hall. I set my pile of books on my cluttered desk and he did the same with his pile.

I turned to him and rubbed my hands on my jean-clad thighs and held one out. "Grace Hamilton," I said, smiling again.

"Ah! I've heard great things about you, Grace. Welcome aboard," he said, his handsome face breaking into a warm smile and his hand reaching out to shake mine. "I'm Alex Klein. I'm a prosecutor here too."

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I'm happy to be here." I smiled again. There was a lot of smiling going on between Alex and me. I moved a box over on my desk and looked at him. He was smiling again and I laughed and shook my head. He laughed too.

"Well, Grace, I'll leave you to the unpacking. I'm working late and was going to order a pizza in a little bit if you have time to join me for a slice or two?" He gestured down the hall to where I assumed his office was.

I turned around fully as he backed out my door. "Oh, um–"

"I could brief you on who you'll be working with around here," he smiled again, "who to get in good with and all that." He grinned.

"Okay, sure, Alex. Thank you."

"Okay, great, I'll come get you when the pizza's here." And with that, he turned around and walked back to his office. I watched him walk away, smiling slightly to myself. When he got halfway down the hall, he looked back and smiled. I laughed and turned around, grinning now as I started unpacking.

• Предыдущая
• 41/79
• Следующая