Page 37 of Sam to the Rescue
Suds
Leaving Sam at the hospital was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. How am I supposed to choose between keeping her safe and stopping a bomb that could kill thousands? The oath I took as a SEAL reminds me of my duty and even though I am no longer active, I can’t ignore it.
My Nation expects me to be physically harder and mentally stronger than my enemies. If knocked down, I will get back up, every time. I will draw on every remaining ounce of strength to protect my teammates and to accomplish our mission. I am never out of the fight.
After a couple of hours of sleep, I call my wife, surprised to hear sounds of our kitchen instead of hospital noises in the background. “Hey, sugar. How’s the face?”
“Well, my nose isn’t broken but I had to cancel my Miss America tryout. Apparently, black eyes are not in vogue.”
“Maybe next year.” I don’t know what I miss more… her weird sense of humor or waking up with her beautiful body spooned close. “So, they released you from the hospital?”
“Oh my God. I almost wish they hadn’t. When I got home, there was a squad car circling the block, two of Vinny’s goons, and one of Slate’s men parked out front. Before I could climb the stairs, my family ambushed me. I’m pretty sure Dad got me a job doling out parking tickets at Yankee Stadium, if that’s even a thing.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Me neither. But that’s okay because Aunt Marion has scheduled me to start washing hair on Monday and Petey hired me as a pizza delivery guy. Everyone has forbidden me to continue on as a private detective.
“Huh.” On one level I commiserate with her but I’m glad they’re watching her six when I can’t be there.
“If Rose hadn’t held them back with a vacuum, I probably would’ve been shanghaied.”
“Sorry I missed out on all the fun.” Picturing the scene, I mute my phone so she can’t hear me laugh.
“No, you’re not but I forgive you. My family may be a harder sell.”
“Good to know. Talk soon. Love you, babe.”
“You too, bye.” Knowing she’s safe, I meander toKing’s Keg House.The guy behind the counter narrows his eyes and raises his brows. “What’ll it be?”
“Coffee. Black.”
He places a cup in front of me and pours from a glass carafe containing thick, dark liquid. When it plops in my cup, I half expect it to crawl out. A few sips later, my new best bud, Pennywise, otherwise known as Edge, cozies up to me.
“How’s your wife?” His lurid smirk and disrespectful tone need to be called out.
Acting the part of a mercenary with a hot temper, I grab his head and slam it to the wood. The bartender reaches under the counter but I’m faster.
“Stay out of it, friend.” With my pistol at his chest. he puts his hands in the air, and I wait for Edge to stir.
When he comes to, I ask, “Did you have something to do with her accident?”
“No. Dude. Chill. Why would we hurt your old lady? We want you to come work for us.”
I let him go, give the keep a warning stare, then holster my weapon. “I told you I’m not interested. I got my own plans. Fucking new-woke wanna-bees, amateurs, all of you.”
Insulting him does the trick. “What if I could prove we’re not. Would you be interested?”
“Mebbe, mebbe not. First, tell me. Why’re y’all so gung-ho on having me join your merry band of idiots?”
He shrugs as he rubs the welt forming on his cheek. “We lost a wingman.”
“You sure you can afford me?” I raise a brow, take a sip of muck, and cough when a chunk of coffee goes down the wrong way.
Edge smiles, stands, and slithers a little further away from me. “Not a problem. You in or not?”
I pull out a piece of paper, write down a number, and slide it over the sticky counter. “You come up with that figure and we’ll talk.”
Before I agree to anything, I need to do a little more prep work and see to it my wife and kid are safe. Who knows how long I’ll be gone for and how bad things may become?