Page 13 of Oliver (The Golden Team #7)

Emery

I knew the second he walked in.

I didn’t have to turn around. The air changed. The gravity in the room shifted, like the walls themselves braced for impact.

“Hey, kid,” came the low, gravel-lined voice behind me.

I turned.

Jason Blake—my father, the man I’d idolized as a child and resented as a teenager—stood in the doorway. Bigger than I remembered. Grayer at the temples. And for the first time in my life… vulnerable.

His eyes swept over me. Bandaged arm. Faint bruises under my jaw. The raw edges I hadn’t been able to scrub off, no matter how many times I’d showered.

“You’re late,” I said.

A flicker of something passed over his face—guilt, maybe. Or grief.

“I got here as fast as I could.”

“Like always.”

He stepped into the sunroom, slow and careful, as if I might bolt. “Em… I didn’t know. Not until I got the call.”

I swallowed. “That part wasn’t your fault.”

“But the rest was?” He said.

I didn’t answer.

How could I explain the years I’d spent chasing medals, chasing perfection, chasing his approval?

He sighed and sat in the chair across from me. “You look like your mom.”

“I know.”

“She would’ve raised hell if she were alive.”

“She’s the reason I’m still here.”

He looked up sharply.

“When they grabbed me,” I said, “I remembered her voice, telling me not to panic, not to let fear win. I think that’s what got me through the first night.”

He blinked hard, jaw tight. “I should’ve been there.”

I didn’t say yes or you should’ve or you never were.

I just looked at him. My father, the man I loved, no matter if he wasn’t around much when I was growing up. When mom got sick he was there the entire time. His love for her was powerful.

“I want to know what happened,” he said. “Every detail. Everything you’ve remembered.”

“I’m working on it,” I said. “I saw something I wasn’t supposed to. A video. Some kind of arms deal.”

“That’s why they took you?”

I nodded. “It has to be the reason. But it still doesn’t explain how they knew I saw it. I didn’t tell anyone. I barely even processed it. It was just a blink.”

Jason stood and started pacing.

“Your Dad thinks someone in the military could be involved,” I said. “Someone with clearance. Maybe even someone who knew you.”

He stopped pacing.

“Dad,” I whispered. “Is there anyone you can think of who’d do something like this?”

A long silence.

Then he said, “Not anymore.”

Not anymore.

That told me everything I needed to know. He did know someone at one time, but the guy was dead.

We sat in silence after that.

Two soldiers from different wars, trying to make peace with the cost.

My Dad looked at me finally and said, “You remind me of her. Stronger than you think. Smarter than most.”

“Stubborn as hell?”

He smirked. “That too.”

I stood and walked over to him. Hesitated. Then hugged him.

Not because I’d forgiven everything.

But because I needed him. He was my father, and he was a Navy SEAL. And I love him. That’s who he was.

And maybe… he needed me too.