“It will be in your best interest to lay there until the MPs get here,” Zane told Brewster, hand squeezing the man’s throat.
Brewster didn’t move a muscle.
“You hear me?” Zane’s voice was dark, black, and lethal.
“Yes, Master Sergeant,” Brewster wheezed.
Shoving away from the prone man, Zane turned to him and drew him away from Brewster.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” He blinked down at the barbell. “I’m okay.”
“He could have killed you.” Zane’s voice was so deadly quiet, he feared the man was going to kill Brewster. He gripped Zane’s forearm and hung on.
Several Military police barreled into the room, forcing him and Zane further away as they took Brewster into custody.
Because Zane was Master Sergeant and had been in the room, the MPs needed him to write up the report. Zane hesitated, slanting him a worried look.
“I’m okay,” he assured Zane, wishing like hell he could kiss him.
“I’ll call you.” Zane’s gaze swept over him before he turned and walked out of the room, taking some of the light with him.
“What the fuck was that all about?” Joshua Greene and Archer Hall made their way over to him.
“Just a disagreement.” He shrugged, his stomach swirling from Zane’s look.
“I heard Brewster put one in Miller’s vest during training and Zane gave him a beat down,” Archer said.
“Yeah, me too.” He nodded. “Maybe he thought he’d get back at Zane by attacking me.”
“You put Brewster down earlier,” Greene grunted, his tattoos flashed on massive guns and veins popped along the side of the guy’s neck. He was a fucking massive mountain of a man.
“It was impressive,” Greene continued.
“Not as impressive as your fucking beard.” He grinned.
Archer barked out a laugh and Greene scowled at him before a small, almost there smirk quirked the corner of lips he could barely see through the hair.
“Smart ass,” Greene grumbled.
“So, Zane tells me,” he grinned.
“I like you, Thorne.” Archer slapped him on the back.
Greene snorted and pulled his hand over his bushy beard.
Noise from the door drew his attention.
“I can take care of myself, you know,” Beckett was saying as he came limping back in the room ahead of Holden, Link, and Eagle. Lance was nowhere to be seen, probably picked up by Zane and the MPs.
“I know.” Holden shrugged.
“Then why’d you run to my rescue?” The skin around Beckett’s eyes crinkled.
“Call me crazy?” Holden grumbled.
“If you think I’m going to be nice to you, think again.”
“Give it a rest, Beckett,” Link told his cousin. “He’s hurt.”
“Hurt?” Beckett’s eyes flew wide. “Where?” He limped up to Holden with a scowl and started running his hands over the bigger man’s torso.
“I thought you weren’t going to be nice to me?” Holden held his hands out at his side.
“Don’t think this is me being nice!”
“Lower.”
“What?” Beckett blinked up at Holden.
“Go lower.”
Beckett realized his hands were at the top of Holden’s jeans and he yanked his hands away.
“You, you, you…”
Isaac barked out a laugh along with the rest of the room.
Beckett turned on his cousin. “Why’d you say he was hurt?”
“To see your reaction,” Link said, all smug.
“You asshole!” Beckett snapped and sent them all a slicing glare before stalking slowly toward the door.
“Ice that ankle,” Holden called after Beckett.
“Bite me!”
“Fuck,” Holden mumbled. “Now he’ll never forgive me.”
“Oh,” Isaac assured the guy. “He’ll forgive you.”
“Yeah?” Holden eyes brightened.
“Yeah, try a little caveman on him,” he snickered.
“Hey, that’s my cousin you’re talking about,” Link spoke up.
“He’s a grown man,” Eagle told Link, who gave Eagle the finger.
“So, training’s over?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’ll text you when the assignment comes up,” Spencer said.
Isaac
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out with a smile.
“I was going to leave you a message,” Zane’s sexy, deep voice washed over him.
“Want me to hang up?” he teased.
“No!”
He laughed and sank onto the locker room bench. “What are you wearing?”
“Old, Thorne, so old,” Zane laughed. “Where are you?”
“In the locker room.”
There was a moment of silence over the line.
“Okay, so what are you wearing?” Zane chuckled.
“Nice try, Gannon. I’m fully clothed.”
“I want to get you out of those clothes.”
“Me too,” he whispered. “Where are you?”
“I just left the base,” Zane replied. “When do you leave?”
“Still waiting on final orders,” he sighed.
“So, you don’t know for how long?”
“Hopefully, we’ll be back by the time you get home.”
“I hope so.”
He kept Zane on the phone longer than he should have and only ended the conversation when he saw a call coming in from dispatch.
“I have to go,” he sighed. “Love you.” His heart lurched and then pounded in his chest. Shit, shit, shit.
“Hey Isaac?” Zane replied hurriedly before any silence could grow.
“Yeah?” He couldn’t keep the lilting hope from the one word. He strained to hear Zane’s breathing over the phone for another moment.
“Be safe.”
“I will,” he said over the lump in his throat. Hanging up was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
He knew Zane loved him; it was only a matter of time before he told him so.
Right?
He ended the call and accepted the other.
“What’s up, Sam?”
“Hey Isaac,” Sam said. “I have a woman to patch through to you. She’s your mom’s nurse.”
His breath stuttered. “Did you try Dillon?”
“I did. It went to voicemail.”
He walked out of the building and into the sunshine toward his SUV.
“Go ahead, put her through.”
A few klicks later and silence.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Isaac Thorne?”
“This is him.”
“I’m your mother’s nurse and I got into a slight car accident this morning. I can’t make it over. Can you run by and tell your mother I’ll be late?”
His heart slammed against his ribs. Could shit get any worse?
“My brother is your contact.”
“I know.” The woman’s voice wobbled. “But I can’t get ahold of him.”
Same as Sam. Why the fuck wasn’t Dillon answering his fucking phone?
“I’ll find him. Don’t worry,” he said tightly.
“Thank you.”
The call ended and with shaking fingers, he punched in Dillon’s number. It went straight to
