Page 28 of All The Way Under

We exit his hotel room, him in a backward hat and a pair of sunglasses, me in one of his oversized black hoodies and a camouflage beanie he found in his tactical gear. We look ridiculous, and somehow it makes sense.

Brody doesn’t hold my hand while we stroll down the street because he’s on alert. It’s hot to watch him protect me, but also disheartening because what if this is how it will always be? Never in my life have I wished not to be a Wyndham more.

Part of my security detail is wearing plain clothes a few feet behind us, and a few went ahead to scope out the café and the surrounding buildings before we get there. I can’t tell if Brody is annoyed by the hired help or thankful for the extra sets of eyes.

I pull my beanie down a little further when we get to a stoplight because there’s a group of people waiting. I slam the button to cross the road. Taxis fly by, and the scent of sweet pastries fills my nose.

Brody smiles down at me before letting his gaze sweep again.

It’s easy to play pretend when he looks at me like that.

Like this is a normal date, without any hang-ups or qualifiers.

Like I wasn’t just held captive with him.

He takes my hand when it’s time to cross, and the buzz from his touch makes me blush.

It’s a brisk walk, and his hand wraps tightly around mine until we’re safely ensconced in the café. It’s empty. I groan when I see security in the back.

“They bought out the café,” I deadpan. “So much for a normal date.”

“Why are you so hung up on being normal when you’re anything but?” He pulls out a chair and extends his hand for me to sit.

The guard passes by our table and locks the front door.

“Your father’s orders, ma’am,” he says, obviously embarrassed, but duty-bound. I frown.

“Saylor,” Brody chides. “This is safer. We aren’t as far from Madagascar as you think. I’m not upset about a locked door and a couple of suits. You shouldn’t be either. Your dad loves you.”

He sits down and takes my hands in his.

“Imagine your child in this situation. What would you do? Especially if you have the means to buy peace of mind.”

His eyes soften, and I lose myself in the moment, imagining having kids with him. Little blue-eyed babies toddling on the beach, fat bare feet kicking up water as they chase crabs.

Tears prick my eyes, and I hope he doesn’t notice. How would I explain how I’ve skipped several steps in my mind by merely looking into his eyes?

“I’d do the same,” I finally reply. “It feels like a lot, and I’m afraid,” I whisper.

The waitress hands us menus with shaking hands, and I feel for her, I do. But I know she’s safe even if she’s scared.

“Thank you,” I say, meeting her eyes, sliding the beanie off my head and onto my lap.

Her brown eyes widen further as she looks at my face. Recognition. Shit. I clear my throat, and she scurries back to the kitchen.

“What are you afraid of?” Brody asks, also noticing the interaction.

“Well, for starters, nothing being the way it was before. I’m scared all the attention is going to scare you away. Your identity needs to stay under wraps for your own safety. What if I’m the one who spoils that? What if I get you killed for no reason other than being linked to you?”

He picks up the menu, shaking his head.

“You’re spiraling. It’s not that serious. We should enjoy our date. I’m going to have the pasta. What looks good to you?”

I stare at him, unflinching, then hit him with a slow blink.

“You really aren’t bothered by the what-ifs?”

“Hell no. I’m ordering you not to be bothered by them either.” He clenches his jaw.

I give him a mock salute with two fingers on my forehead.

“Yes, sir. Look at you with your clenched jaw. Am I annoying you?”

We’re interrupted by the waitress asking what we’d like to drink and if we’re ready to order.

I tell her what I want, literally the first thing on the menu—some sandwich because I didn’t have time to look—and a bottle of sparkling water.

Brody orders next, in Portuguese too, as he scans the window to make sure the coast is clear.

“I’m not annoyed,” he muses. “I’m merely a curmudgeon.

You know this already. I don’t want you to worry about what might happen or will happen.

Hell, I don’t want you to worry at all, but I’ve dealt with some pretty heavy shit in my lifetime.

Not just deployments where my brothers have died or I have narrowly escaped impossible situations, either.

Normal stuff when I’m home. Being lonely or not knowing how to express myself without being an asshole. ”

I smirk.

“Are you sure you know how to do that last one?” I tease. “So you’re saying dealing with a bit of notoriety isn’t going to deter you from spending time with the kidnapped Wyndham girl?”

Brody presses his lips together and out.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not. You’re underestimating my tolerance for bullshit and semantics.

I’m in the Navy, remember? It’s one of the most cumbersome businesses on planet Earth.

I jump through hoops for that. I will jump through hoops for you.

Now, will you promise me the same courtesy?

You’ll stick around when I’m angry, moody, or otherwise mean because you know it comes from a good place? ”

“Brody, I saw through that charade right up front. You know that.”

Our drinks come, and he drinks his light beer, and I have a mouthful of my water. After a long sip, he pulls the mug from his face, leaving a white foam mustache.

“Do you want to come with me to my brother’s lake house in Montauk this weekend? Nolan and his girlfriend, Catherine, will be there. There are jet skis and a boat.”

Brody looks out the window again.

“It’s a big house, so your security detail will have space if that is a condition for you leaving your house.” He pauses, taking a sip of beer. “Probably not as big as the houses you’re used to, but I think it’s nice. I don’t get out there nearly enough. I’m on a mission to change that.”

The way in which he’s immediately enmeshing me into his realm and life feels wonderful. I don’t have to hide in his world. He must hide in mine. It gives me the best idea.

“Yes. I’m sure it’s beautiful, and I don’t care at all how big or nice it is. I love that you want to include me already. Thank you.”

Tears threaten, but they’re happy.

“I can’t wait to meet them. I don’t know if I’ll have to bring security if you’re there. Maybe one guy, maybe two. I’ll talk to my parents as soon as we get back.” I clear my throat. “My parents have a house there too. My sister Bronwyn and her husband will be staying there this weekend.”

Are we doing this?

“Maybe they can come, swing by? You’ll love my sister,” I explain, using my hands to talk. Thinking about a meeting between them causes a riot of emotions. Good ones.

“Is she like your mom?” Brody asks.

I pull a face. “Nothing like my mother. But she’s also not like my dad either. Bronwyn and her husband are into the art scene, but mostly it’s all her charities that keep her busy. You and she have similar charm. The sarcastic wit layered with a pugnacious undertone.”

“Fabulous. I can’t wait.” He smirks, and I believe him.

He is excited to meet her. “Are you okay after everything that happened? I’m not good at talking about feelings, but I wanted to ask because you killed two men and endured being caged.

That’s something I can get over, but I was wondering if you’re okay. ”

“It’s kind of sweet when you force yourself to be this thoughtful,” I say.

He brushes off his shoulders.

“I had a video call with my mom’s psychiatrist the day after I got to Lisbon. I feel relatively okay about the whole thing. The doctor called it psychological robustness. Catchy right? Probably inherited it from Bianca.” I snort-laugh. “Thanks, Mom.”

Our food arrives, and thankfully, the waitress looks calmer as she asks if we need anything else.

“All joking aside, I might have the mental toughness of a Navy SEAL. What do you think about that?”

“I’d say I met my match, then. Because if you’re going to be with me, you’re going to need mental toughness.”

Brody eats his pasta at hyper speed. He pauses when he asks for another beer.

Soft music bounces off the old stone walls, giving the illusion of a real date, where doors don’t have to be locked.

“I talked to my friend, Mark, this morning, and he said Collin and Turner are on their way back to the US. They’ll beat us back. No one knows they were rescued because your last name overshadows everything else, but it’s a good thing. They’ll have peace while they pick up the pieces of their life.”

At the mention of the brothers, my heart rate picks up immediately. Maybe I’m not as healed as I thought. They remind me of the guards, and the guards remind me that Ravelo was never found.

“Did they find Rav yet?” I whisper.

Brody looks at me, stoic, handsome, and uneasy.

“They have not, but I’m not going to be able to talk to you about this stuff for much longer. You shouldn’t worry about him for another second. He has a flag on his passport. He can’t travel without being found, nor will he have connections back home. We’re not going to stop looking for him.”

“I read on the news that the main ringleaders were captured, along with all the other guards. Do you think another kidnap ring will just pop up on the same base?”

The waitress drops off his beer and another water. I take the beer from the table and drink half while Brody looks on, grinning.

“They can’t. We took over the base. No one will have to go through what you did there again.” Brody clears his throat. “I don’t think we talked about this. Do you like beer?”