Page 94 of Seal of Honor
Humbled, flattered, Gabe pushed to his feet and returned their salute. “It’s good to be back. At ease, gentlemen.” When they didn’t lower their hands or sit down, he smiled. “Relax, guys. Hit up the bar in the back. You deserve it. You did good. We did good.”
“No, Sir,” Marcus said.
“Our mission isn’t over,” Ian said. “With your permission, we’d like to finish it.”
The warehouse, Gabe realized. After everything, they still wanted to get rid of that damn warehouse. Well, why the hell not?
“You up for it?”
“Yes, Sir,” they said in resounding unison.
He studied them. Bruised, battered, but not beaten. Never beaten. Pride swelled in his chest. All this time, he had wished for his former SEAL teammates when he had a group of men who were just as good, just as loyal, and just as honorable at his command. Maybe even more so.
“All right.” Grabbing his cane, he limped toward the plane’s door. “Then let’s give the EPC a giant FU and blow that building from the map, gentlemen.”
CHAPTER 34
WASHINGTON, D.C.
It should be raining. Hell, it should be storming with how miserable Gabe felt, but Mother Nature had blessed the Capital with a gorgeous start to summer. The nice weather served as a stark contrast to his mood and, honestly, kinda pissed him off.
Yet here he stood, barefoot and shirtless, on his balcony, watching the sun drop below the city’s horizon, exactly as he had every other night for the past month. Reds, golds, and purples splashed across a sky so pale blue it was almost white—so hopeful, bright, and a little wild like one of Audrey’s paintings.
Like Audrey herself.
Gabe squeezed the balcony’s railing so hard his knuckles cracked. Called himself a thousand kinds of fool. He had to stop thinking about her. Had to stop standing out here every night, watching the sunset and pining for what could never be. Had to put her out of his mind and focus on what was important: the team and their training.
Yet, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t escape her. The scent of her seemed to linger on his skin like she’d branded herself in him. Her laughter echoed in the silence of his apartment. And God, her eyes—those bright green eyes were all he saw when he closed his own.
Every late-night meeting, every grueling training session with the team, even every quiet moment of solitude was overshadowed by thoughts of her. Of Audrey. Of the light she had brought into his life and the emptiness that had followed in her absence.
Jesus, leaving her had been his choice. The right choice. One he still stood by.
Chewing back a frustrated growl, he raked a hand through his short-cropped hair. He wanted to punch something, to unleash this tangled mess of emotions in the most visceral way. Instead, he stormed back into his apartment, snatched up an old shirt, and pulled it over his head. Grabbing a bottle of bourbon from the sideboard, he slammed down onto his worn-out couch and poured himself a generous serving.
He grimaced at the burn that failed to numb the raw ache in his chest. He was mad at Audrey for infiltrating his thoughts, mad at himself for letting her in. Above all else, he was mad that he was not with her.
Just as the sharpness of the bourbon began to dull his frustrations, his door vibrated with a series of rapid knocks. He made it halfway off his couch before a key rattled in the lock, and Quinn stepped inside.
“Hey,” Quinn said and held up a grocery bag. “Brought some Natty Boh.”
Gabe shook his head and dropped back into his seat as Quinn headed toward the kitchen with the beer. For a second there as the doorknob turned, he had this stupid notion that Audrey had come to Washington and…
Yeah. Completely stupid. He’d known Quinn was coming over, so why was he so damn disappointed to see him?
“I don’t feel like drinking,” Gabe said.
At the kitchen counter, Quinn paused halfway through opening a second bottle. “Is that not bourbon you’ve got there?” He nodded at the bottle on the coffee table.
Gabe grunted. “I don’t feel like sharing,” he clarified, scowling into his drink.
“Well, good thing I brought my own.” Quinn lifted his bottle in a mock salute before taking a hearty gulp. He popped the cap on the second bottle and tossed the cap and the bottle opener in the overflowing sink, then brought the two beers back to the living room. He held the second bottle out.
“And you look like you could use more than one drink. Have you slept since we left Colombia?”
“Of course I have.” Gabe snatched the bottle since Quinn was just stubborn enough to stand there, holding it out to him forever.
“Uh huh,” Quinn said and wandered around the room. “This place smells like a gym locker.”
