Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) (13 page)

“I was … I am, by my own admission, one fucked-up unit. After the ambush when I got shot, they assigned me to a new unit. Everything was cool for a while and then one day my former superiors called me back for one final head fucking. While I was gone, some shit went down in my personal life and …

Brody closed his eyes and willed the tension to back off. This was hard for him; it didn’t matter how much time went by. “Anyway, by the time my boots were back on U.S. soil, the life I left behind was gone.” He shrugged and looked away after deciding not to reveal everything about the past. For now, he’d leave out the missing daughter and the involvement of the Justice Agency in trying to track her down.

“Not imploded or destroyed. Just … gone. So the struggle was real.”

“Understood,” she murmured.

“The first year was awful. Got the college gig, which was cool and everything, but the rest, well … it fucked me up. Someone at the VA used his connections and brought me to the attention of a bunch of guys with a security company that hires veterans.”

“This is where the Arizona connection comes in, isn’t it?”

“Yep, yep. The Justice Agency. Saved my life. Or my sanity. Maybe both.”

“So what? You lead a double life? College instructor half a year and then what happens?”

“Well …” He chuckled. “Just for shits and grins, how ‘bout you tell me what you think happens.”

“Oh, my god.” She laughed. “Are you trying to use my own shtick against me?”

“Ha-ha … and yes, there’s always that. But for real, what do you imagine goes on in Arizona? I’m honestly curious.”

“Hmm.” She sipped and looked him over with a critical eye.

Aw, man. This ought to be good.

“Security company, you said?”

He nodded. “Think global, though.”

“Ah. Good to know. Good to know.”

Maybe a minute of silence ticked by and then she surprised him with an amazingly astute response.

“While I can’t imagine exactly what you’d personally be doing, I think whatever it is … takes place on the periphery. You’re a key member of the team, but you aren’t after glory and recognition. And I’m guessing what you do doesn’t involve weapons.”

His derisive snort was pure reflex. Heather knew quite a bit about his complicated relationship with guns. One time at a therapy meet-up, a bunch of people were discussing some big-name sniper movie and she’d given them all a stern talking-to. Watching her put a couple of grizzled old-timers on blast, and the
aw-shucks
reaction she got, made him feel real good. Was the first time it occurred to Brody that Heather had feelings for him. No matter how hard she pretended otherwise.

“Would I be right in assuming you do what you do with a great deal of autonomy, yet somehow manage to be part of the inner circle without actually being part of it?
Shit.
Did that even make sense?”

Good lord. She had no idea. “You’re good, lady,” he lauded with a laugh. “They teach you how to do that in psych school or are you just naturally perceptive?”

“Little of both, I imagine. You’re not easy to read, Brody. Keeping half your life a secret probably has a lot to do with that.”

“Or the fact you’ve never asked. About anything.”

She didn’t react. Not really. “Wouldn’t you figure what we share in group is enough?”

She was trying to dodge the real question. “We both know that’s not true. Everyone holds back. It’s human nature. You’ve said so yourself. And I’m talking about the basics. Not therapy stuff.”

“Fair point,” she acceded with relative ease. “Guess I’m not good at this.”

“At being a friend?” The rapid, direct way he fired the question made her draw away. He didn’t mean it to sound like an attack.

She answered truthfully and earned a permanent spot in his heart with the openness of her reply. “Friends scare me. One minute, they can be your most ardent supporter, and the next …”

“Your worst nightmare.”

She nodded, but he admired how she consciously straightened. Body language was an interesting thing. Something he’d studied extensively as a marksman. The trauma of Heather’s ordeal damaged her. Pretending otherwise was fucking stupid. But despite the damage, the lady was unbowed. She refused to be a pigeonholed victim. Life conspired to fuck her up the ass, repeatedly … but her fierce determination not to be defined by her troubles was what made her the magnificent woman she was.

“I’m asking now.” She replied in such a small voice that he strained to hear. “As a … friend.”

Wow. Right then and there, he wanted to tell her everything. Like … every damn thing. Wanting to unburden his soul and place it in her hands for safe keeping was huge. Was Heather the sanctuary he yearned for from the demons and sadness clinging to him?

“You’re amazingly on point with your observations. Autonomy is my north star, you know? I’m done with taking orders. When others are calling the shots, it’s way too fucking easy to play fast and loose with someone’s moral compass.”

“I like that about you. It’s kind of badass.” Her quivering smirk fought to become a full grin.

“Badass, huh? Well, at Justice, I’m a baby badass in a huge pond of serious badassery.”

Her eyes gleaming with approval, she remarked, “You like these guys out in Arizona, I take it?”

“They don’t come better than the Justice Brothers. Alex, he’s the head guy. Think Papa Bear with a chest full of medals and a terminal case of absentminded professor. He took me on when I was a full-on head case. Changed my life.”

“Alex? You’ve never mentioned him.”

Brody chuckled. “Ever hear me mention the major? Yeah, well … that’s him. Major Alexander Valleja-Marquez. You’d like him, Heather. He’s smart as fuck and has manners out the ass.”

She rolled her eyes. “Manners out the ass. Nice.”

Talking about Justice felt awesome. He really wanted her to be a part of his whole life, so seeing her shy smile and hearing her admit to being friends was giving him a case of motormouth.

“And then there’s Cam. Actually, he goes by Cameron Justice. You’d like him too. Cameron is his legal last name, but he has some complicated issues around his birth name. Hmph.” He chortled. “All these guys are vets, so the
issues
,” a word he emphasized with air quotes, “are yesterday’s news. Anyway, Cam is brilliant. So is Draegyn.”

“Say again?”

“I know, right?” he mocked. “Draegyn St. John. Drae for short. What a fucking name! Trust fund baby with a James Bond complex. But don’t be fooled by the tuxedo. The guy can kick anyone’s ass and not break a sweat. Plus, he’s the poster boy for all things involving a mind like a steel trap. Shoulda’ been a government lawyer, that one.”

Heather leaned forward and put her glass on the coffee table. “So there’s a major with manners, a brilliant guy with name issues, and an ass-kicking narcissist. Where do you fit into all this?”

“I would be the dog trainer.”

“The
what
?”

So that was what incredulous sounded like!
Brody laughed. “That’s right. I train the agency’s dogs. Run the whole canine program. Started it, in fact.”

Her jaw was almost on the floor.

“Have never brought this up in group, but getting shot in the fucking head finished my days as a sniper. To be honest, when I was recovering, I don’t even remember how the whole dog thing got started, but before I knew what was happening, I was working in the canine unit. We literally strapped dogs onto someone’s chest and parachuted them out of planes. People don’t realize how crucial dogs are to the military.”

Heather glanced sideways and looked at George. He could see the pieces falling into place in her head.

“So, in a nutshell, when I’m not here in Maryland, I’m in Arizona training security dogs.”

When his phone rang, they both jumped. He’d left it on the table earlier after snapping their selfie with the dog, and frankly, forgot it even existed. One quick look at the screen and he knew he’d have to answer.

Smiling broadly, he picked it up and showed her. “My, uh, nephew,” he proudly announced. Dylan’s smiling, goofy face filled the phone’s screen. “Sorry. Do you mind?”

She quickly shook her head. “Oh, heavens. Go right ahead.”

“Hey there, big guy,” he drawled as the FaceTime session connected. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

Lacey’s sweet smile appeared next to Dylan. “Time change, Uncle Bro,” she quipped. “We’re finishing dinner and about to take a bath but wanted to wish you a Happy New Year. Are we the first to call?”

“Yeah. Drae texted way earlier. Mostly shit about the many ways he could find for me to blow him and suggesting Hello Kitty barrettes for my hair.”

Lacey gurgled with laughter and Dylan followed along. “Ah well, grade him on a curve, okay? He isn’t getting much sleep these days. Daniel’s quite a handful.”

“Everyone’s good, though?” he asked. “Tori? How’s she doing?”

Kissing Dylan on the side of his face, Lacey snuggled him close. “She’s been through a rough time … all things considered.”

God. What an understatement. Victoria St. John struggled almost from day one of her pregnancy. Wanting to be there when the baby came, he’d hung around Arizona way longer than he normally would have, flying into Baltimore at Christmas just days before classes started. All in all, the last couple of weeks had been a fast-paced blur.

“But Draegyn … oh, my word, Brody! He’s been amazing. Fatherhood really brought out the best in him.”

The comment shouldn’t have sent an arrow through his heart, but it did. Lacey would freak out if she knew anything she’d said caused him pain, so he schooled his expression to remain neutral.

“Did I catch you getting ready to go out?” With a cute snicker, she teased, “Better put a shirt on if Meghan calls. You know who wouldn’t like having your manly attributes on display.”

Oh, shit. That was right. He was practically in his birthday suit. He hadn’t thought it through before answering. Damn technology. FaceTime could be dangerous.

One quick glance at Heather, and he made up his mind about what to say next. Though she was right next to him on the sofa, she was trying to appear as though she wasn’t actively following every word.

“Actually, Mrs. Cameron, your timing is borderline shitty. I’m already out. I mean it’s after nine in the East, and you’ve interrupted a game of strip poker.”

Heather gasped, looked at him, and immediately choked on some laughter. He’d winked and smirked when she reacted … something Lacey would clearly see.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Not waiting for an answer, a clearly flustered Lacey Cameron giggled then used her hand to make Dylan wave. “On that note, big kisses, Uncle Bro, and a Happy New Year. Hurry home, okay? We miss you.”

“Miss you too.” Holding his fist up, he growled, “Fist bump me, dude!” Nodding his thanks, he ended the call, saying, “Happy New Year. I’ll see you soon.”

“The wedding! Squee!” she trilled. Then a quick wave, a blown kiss, and the call ended.

When he looked over at Heather, she had the oddest expression on her face.

“Wedding?”

T
HEY WERE STANDING
at the small kitchen island wearing party hats and munching on the double order of chicken satay they hadn’t devoured earlier. Their appreciative moans filled the air.

“Don’t bogart the peanut sauce,” he teased.

“Hey,” Heather growled. “It’s not my fault you’re so wishy-washy. Dip away. Jam in the whole piece and cover it with sauce. Like this.” And then she proceeded to annihilate an entire slab in three bites after covering it with the sticky sauce. “
Unf.
So damn good. Food of the gods.”

She eyed his naked torso as their foodie banter took place and wondered how his chest would taste covered with some of the yummy peanut sauce.

Asking any more questions about Arizona after his call seemed fruitless. There wasn’t any need. His infinitesimal hesitation before saying
nephew
told her loud and clear that the kid on the phone wasn’t a blood relative. And that whoever was calling was a personal friend. Someone close.

Hearing the stranger tell Brody that he was missed and to hurry home saddened her even though the reaction was ridiculous. There were people in his life who cared about him. She should be happy about it instead of letting a bit of melancholy get her down because she wanted to be one of those people. Who cared.