SEAL's Promise - Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3, Book 01 (22 page)

That’s just the way they are.
He took Christy’s hand and felt the searing heat that struck him every time he touched her. Married now five years, with two children, and if she’d let him, he’d have two more and love them all just like their first, Brandon. She worked like a son of a gun, and if it weren’t for her income, they’d have a whole different lifestyle. And Christy would seriously have to alter her shopping habits.

Fredo and Mia arrived. Mia was stunning in a very low-cut bright white gown that she was practically poured into. With her bronzed skin and long black hair done up and cascading down over her shoulders, she was one of the most beautiful brides he’d ever seen. Several of the Team guys removed their dark glasses and bowed to her, clearing their throats. He’d never seen Mia blush before, but she was clearly moved by the experience.

And Fredo was in a tux. First time he’d ever seen his explosives expert dress up in anything but an ill-fitting borrowed suit. They wore their dress uniforms for funerals. His shimmery brocade vest in white was a perfect complement to his dark slacks and white shirt, but the white tie looked like it was going to garrote him. Or maybe it was just that Fredo looked nervous as hell. His man frowned and nodded to the door of the chapel, as if Kyle was in charge.

“They not letting anyone in?” he asked, his furry eyebrows tenting. Kyle chuckled to himself remembering the numerous discussions Christy had with him, along with a couple of the other wives, trying to convince Fredo to tweeze or at least thin out his unibrow. As with many things about Fredo, once he set his mind on something, there was no stopping him. Just like the way he pursued Mia, Armando’s bad girl sister and troublemaker, who rejected him for nearly three years. Fredo kept after her until she finally came to her senses.

And that was why he was one of the best go-to guys around. Why he was so deadly with his explosive charges and gadgets in the arena. He was irreverent and careful, a rare combination.

“There’s another wedding finishing up,” Christy whispered to them. “Mia, you are just—” Christy could hardly continue. “You are a complete knockout, sweetheart.”

Mia beamed. “I’m doing this all the way.”

Fredo bent, whispered something to her lips and kissed her. Kyle was happy his man got the girl of his dreams, although he’d always thought he deserved someone with less baggage. But Fredo was a rock-solid warrior hell-bent on saving people, and he was going to be the best husband Mia could have ever chosen. And that’s the role Fredo wanted to play.

Felicia Guzman, Mia and Armando’s mother, held little Ricardo. The charcoal braid woven atop her head was laced with fresh flowers enhancing her handsome, dark features and her bright brown eyes. She and Sergeant Mayfield had gotten married this last spring, and Mayfield doted on his new adopted grandson like he was raising him as his own.

“Mrs. Guzman,” Kyle nodded to Mia’s mother. He shook Mayfield’s hand. “Heard you’re retiring, really retiring now?”

“Yup. Sent in the paperwork.” He started to say something else when the doors to the chapel opened, and the crowd separated for the other bride and groom to exit the church. They were young and without family or friends. Surprise registered on the bride’s face as she made her way through the crowd of SEALs, wives, girlfriends and other family.

An attractive older woman wearing a pink suit ushered them inside to their seats. She took Mia’s hand and led her around to a doorway off the tiny vestibule, where they disappeared. Organ music flowed from a decent sound system.

He looked over his Team Guys. Cooper was there with Libby, holding hands with their son, Will, who was smartly dressed in a little short pants black suit and red bow tie. Jones was with a new girl, as he usually was. Nick and Devon were there, Armando and Gina, Kate and Tyler and Sophia and Mark. Rory and several of the other single SEALs on Team 3 were clustered in one powerful girl-chasing unit and would be engaged in that kind of activity as soon as the wedding was over. He’d already overheard plans to rent a limo and do the town and anyone who came their way who was willing.

But the new crop of SEALs was coming along, and Kyle was proud of the respect they showed their senior man by showing up. These new young additions to SEAL Team 3 hardly drank and stayed away from the ladies, unlike their older mentors. Some of the immoral or lewd behavior allowed among the teams in the past was coming under more scrutiny. They were even asked not to get full sleeve tats any longer, something that had been a time-honored tradition. These new guys had a dedication to country and perfecting their trade unlike what he’d seen before. Kyle knew the recent blowups in the Middle East were driving a whole new breed of fighting men into the arms of the Special Forces.

Several of these new men shook his hand and bowed gently to Christy with the brief, “Ma’am.”

They’d left Brandon and little Camilla with a hired hotel sitter, and Kyle was happy for the alone time with Christy, even though he was surrounded by people. They were his people. It was about as safe as it could be. And he knew most all of them were packing, so heaven help the sorry asshole who might want to challenge them. There wasn’t any need for the firepower, but he felt naked without it and knew everyone else felt the same way.

The music changed and winks and nods continued amongst the attendees. Fredo stood up front by the black-robed minister, and Kyle wished he’d insisted he stand up for him. He actually felt sorry for the man. Coop was in the front row whispering some encouragement, and then probably following it with some kind of verbal joust, as was Coop and Fredo’s pattern. The first swear word he heard of the day came from Fredo’s mouth, which caused the minister to take a step back and cough.

Mia made her way down the aisle to the Wedding March, standing next to Fredo. The short service was over in less than ten minutes. The rings were exchanged, and then Fredo kissed his glowing bride while the crowd whooped and shouted, “Hooya S.O. Chavez!”

Around the corner from the chapel was an Italian restaurant, Izzy’s, where they’d agreed to meet for lunch. Izzy was the father of a Team guy on the East Coast, and it was nearly sacrilegious not to give him a visit when in town.

His heavy New Jersey accent fit right into the ambience that was Las Vegas, and Kyle had often wondered if he had “connections” somewhere. And he was known for sometimes paying for a wedding party out of his own pocket, if there was the need. They were all family, every one of them. Family takes care of family.

Coop raised his glass for a toast. Fredo looked uncomfortable, but Mia kissed him on the cheek which seemed to lighten his mood.

“So when I showed up for Indoc there was this guy they told me about. This little short asshole who thought he could be a SEAL. Everyone was laughing at him.” Coop nodded to the bride and groom, winking at Mia. “We had to settle things, of course. I mean, boys will be boys, and everyone was nervous as hell about trying out for the Teams, knowing there was an eighty to ninety percent chance they’d wash out.”

The nodding and verbal affirmations were lavishly strewn about the room.

“We had a couple of professional footballers trying out, and they definitely thought they had more of a shot than this little Mexican prick sitting over here.”

Fredo gave him the finger, and the crowd loved it.

“So to settle things, someone suggested they wrestle.” Coop stopped to properly apprise Fredo before he continued. “And that stopped just about all talk of whether or not Fredo could make it. Fredo, I don’t think you lost one of those, did you?”

“Still haven’t.”

“And he cheats.”

“Fuck you. I don’t cheat,” Fredo barked.

Those that knew Fredo well knew that he did put his hands inappropriately on the other guy’s junk during wrestling matches. This usually caught them off guard, and Fredo would get the quick take-down. Kyle knew it was part of what made him such a good, innovative SEAL. Fredo had a plan and a strategy for everything.

“Here’s to the guy who counts the number of dryer sheets I use when I used to do laundry at his house, and he calls
me
cheap.”

The crowd loved it.

“The guy who thinks there is something unholy about tofu and green salads—”

“
Not
unholy, just not natural,” Fredo quipped back.

“Who thinks that anything green, except green chili salsa is also unhealthy,” Coop continued. Fredo shrugged, guilty as charged.

“To my best friend, and absolutely someone I would stand right next to and take the bullet for, to someone Mia will never have to worry about because he’ll go through hell itself to come back to you every time, and heaven help the guy who tries to mess with you, darlin’, I give you Mr. and Mrs. Alphonso Manuel Esquidido Chavez.” Coop raised his glass. The room shouted, “Hooya Mr. and Mrs. Chavez!”

Gina Guzman, Mia’s new sister-in-law, stood up next to toast for the bride.

“Mia, you were one wild child there, and I was thinkin’ man, I don’t know if I can keep up with her.” Gina was referring to the fact that she had worked an undercover detail and had befriended Mia originally as a means to help take down a local San Diego gang she was hanging with.

“Then I met your brother.” She bent down and gave Armando a kiss. She continued, fanning her face. “Who knows what would have happened if I’d not met him, huh? But I thank my lucky stars every day that I did, and that you and I became friends. You watched my back. You also gave me some fits, too.”

The crowd laughed.

“But it is so nice to see you so happy, and with the best guy you could have picked. This guy is as solid as they come.”

Armando stood up, and said, “Excuse me—”

Coop pulled him down to allow Gina to continue.

Kyle’s phone went off, and he saw from the display it was from T.J. He whispered to Christy, “Gotta take this.”

He exited the restaurant as Gina was finishing and heard the shouts of acknowledgement from the revelers.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

‡

“A
RE YOU IN
any pain?” T.J. knew he should address this dying man as “Dad” but that was not something he could do. Not that he didn’t feel anything. He felt a lot. He felt too much. He just couldn’t make anything out of it. And that wasn’t what he was used to.

The old man searched his face, back and forth, squinting in a smile of recognition.

“You grew up strong, son. I can tell. It was better that way. Better for you.”

T.J. had to break away at that remark.
In your dreams, you old prick.
There wasn’t any point to make him suffer even more than he already was, so he kept his mouth shut.

“They treating you good here?”

His father’s laugh lines preceded the grimy grin he got back. T.J. noticed he was missing quite a few teeth. He tried to visualize him young and healthy, and just couldn’t.

“I can’t complain.” His graying blue eyes were still bright, though his body seemed to be rotting away from them. “So I guess you want to know about your family then, T.J., or did your sister get hold of you?”

Well isn’t that something choice. A sister. I have a sister.
He was still feeling somewhat numb, but this news began a slow thaw.

“No one from ‘the family’ as you say, has ever contacted me, or if they tried, they gave up.”

“Don’t you want to know about your sister?”

“I’m here out of respect that you wanted to see me, and you haven’t long for this world. I’m here so you can tell me whatever you want to tell me.”

“Okay. First things first. I killed a man. I laid in wait for him, and I killed him. I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help myself.” The old man didn’t take his eyes off T.J. “I loved your mother. Loved her too much.”

“Well, you’re here. Where is my sister?”

“She lives about a hundred miles that way.” He pointed west. “And your mother is buried nearby.”

Bobbie Ray looked vacant, his eyes staring off at a distance, and at first, T.J. thought he’d passed away. He stood up to lean over and check, slightly alarmed, when his father lurched forward involuntarily, like he was coming back from the dead, which totally freaked T.J. out. He also smelled of death. He’d learned to recognize that smell over the past few years.

“You taking me home today? You got a nice car?”

“No, you’re staying here. I’m going back home. This is your home now.”

His father shook his head. “Did you drive or fly?”

T.J. was getting more impatient by the minute. He knew there wasn’t anything he could do for his father, except listen to his stream of consciousness wanderings. He actually prayed that he’d go peacefully, and soon. And if he was in a dulled state, perhaps that would be better for everyone.

But T.J. did have questions. He just wasn’t sure it was appropriate to ask them. Or, maybe he just wasn’t sure he’d like the answers. His mother apparently was dead. But he had a sister, and that changed things for T.J.

“I met a real nice girl,” his father started. “She looks a lot like you. Has your eyes. Beautiful girl. I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

“That’s nice.” T.J. thought he might find out details by just listening and not asking. Perhaps there would be some pearls in the old man’s words that would give him some of the clues he was seeking.

“I messed up. She loved him. She loved the man I kilt.”

“My sister? What’s
her
name?”

“Lois. Lois Foster. Old Mr. Foster died many years ago. Never did like me and when I got sent here, well, there wasn’t any way for me to get in touch with her. I fucked up, son.”

“So, my mother’s name was Lois?”

“You know Lois? Did they introduce you to her? Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

T.J. wanted to get up, run away and never come back.

“I thought about this day for many years. What would I say to you if I ever found you.”

“Have you talked to my sister?”

“Twice.”

“What’s her name?”

“She has a boyfriend. I met him once too.”

“What’s her last name?”