A thundering growl sniped from inside the house. “Sienna? Where the hell you at? Late for work, aren’t you?”
She cringed, then pasted on a phony smile. “Our new neighbors brought pie,” she said as he slammed the front door open and stepped onto the porch.
Clearly, the guy used to be quite the athlete, with a tall, muscular build that had become soft with beer and inactivity. Nodding, he smirked appreciatively at Zane’s truck. “Wasn’t that nice of them,” he was suddenly all politeness. Passing right by Freya, he extended his hand to Zane, “Toby. Which place is yours?”
Nodding toward the house, Zane didn’t bother clarifying he was just renting the place over the garage until he figured out what the hell he wanted, “Zane.” He accepted the handshake, resisting the urge to roll the asshole’s knuckles, but squeezed just shy of causing injury.
“Whoa, firm shake there,” he pulled his hand back and shook his fingers dramatically, a charming smile on his face.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Zane added an extra flex with the movement for a number of reasons, none friendly. Backing up a few steps, he said, “We’ll get out of your hair.”
Once Freya was in the truck, he climbed in the driver’s seat, never turning his back on the neighbors. He flipped on the engine and got the hell out of there. Fists clenched tight on the steering wheel, he forced his breath in and out.
Glancing over, he saw Freya wasn’t any calmer. Her eyes were glazed over, cheeks pulled tight. Her dimple no longer the exclamation point to her vivid smile, but instead the hyphen that said she wasn’t finished yet. “Thanks for coming with me.”
He nodded, “I just hope she gets help before it’s too late.”
“Me too. You weren’t exactly subtle,” her lips turned up in a feisty smile. Shit, she was downright bloodthirsty when she wanted to be.
“Can’t believe that asshole. The money he spent on that truck could have fixed up the house and bought her a decent car.”
Freya raised an eyebrow, “How do you know it’s not her truck?”
“Just a guess.”
She sighed and leaned her seat back a click. “I’ve never been able to imagine how a person ends up in such an awful situation.”
“You don’t always know what you’re getting into when you say I do.”
“That’s why a long engagement is a good thing. Gives you plenty of time to back out of it.”
“You sound like you speak from experience.”
“So do you.” She rotated in her seat to face him.
Back on the main road, he took the next turn toward their place. “Married the first girl I slept with.”
“High school sweetheart? Sounds romantic.”
He snorted, “Late bloomer. College sweetheart. Not as romantic as it sounds. Huge wedding after our second year. We rented this incredible apartment she and my parents had picked out, an architect’s dream, so I worked full time and paid on the overpriced high rise with my student loans.”
“What about her student loans? Didn’t she work?”
“She was trying to pull a double major, so she didn’t have time to work. And with my income and loans, she didn’t need to borrow more than tuition.”
“You’re an architect? How did you end up in the Navy?”
“By the time we graduated, I was so deep in debt, realized that I didn’t give a shit about architecture, and my marriage was not everything I’d hoped. Blaire was out late partying every night, claiming she was networking and that I should do the same. So, I said fuck it, I was done living somebody else’s dream, and decided to do what I always wanted.”
“And you wanted to be a Navy SEAL?”
“All my life. Was one of those kids that played too many video games, decided I wanted to be a genuine badass, so I took up swimming and football and track, kept my grades up.”
“What happened that you didn’t do it right away?”
“I knew I needed a degree anyway, so I played the game and majored in architecture to make my parents happy. Chances were slim of making the cut anyway, so at some point I realized joining the SEALs was probably a pipedream anyway. And then I met Blaire, and she hated anything military. She wasn’t thrilled when I came home one day and let her know I’d signed on to join the Navy.”
“Without asking?”
“Not going to say I wasn’t looking for her to bail, and I didn’t have the balls to say it out loud.”
“I know this isn’t a happy ever after.”
“Things were pretty tense, and I’d start looking forward to getting shot at. Safer anyway. About a year in, I was called away on an op. Last minute, deep cover, no contact with home. By the time I got back, she’d already packed. Decided she didn’t fit the patiently-waiting-at-home role. Needed a man to have her back, not the other way around, this isn’t the 1950s.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, me too. No way some woman’s dragging me down another damn aisle for some superficial vows that don’t mean shit.”
And the sympathy was wiped out by that fury again. She scoffed and sat up in her seat. “Some woman? Blaire didn’t understand you, that’s pretty clear. But because one woman refused to share in your dreams, all women are selfish and out to dig their claws into you and not support you?”
Slowing, he pulled into the carport, his jaw clenching tight as he shut off the engine. Holding steady, he climbed out and closed the door with a click so he wouldn’t slam it and show just how easy it would be to let his temper take over. “Not what I meant,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“No? What did you mean?”
“Dammit, Freya. I’ve got two friends in this world. Your cousin, who’s seen
