Page 27 of The Moments You Were Mine

I hit the call button, and Dad picked up on the first ring.

“You’re home.” I heard the relief in his voice, and my throatclosed again. I was quiet so long that it turned his relief into concern. “Parker?”

I inhaled. Exhaled. Forced my larynx to work. The effort it took ensured I lost any ability to ease into the news and left me blurting out, “Will didn’t make it.”

There was silence for several seconds on the other end as Dad registered my words before he exploded, “Goddamn it.”

I heard the pain in each syllable he uttered, his loss only adding to the weight of mine.

“Dad.” I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t tell him how hard I was struggling to even breathe.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he said.

Surprise spiked through the grief and anger. “You’re in San Diego?”

“Fallon’s graduation was yesterday, and your mom and I flew in… It turned out…doesn’t matter. I’ll be there in just a few.”

He hung up before I could respond. Fuck. Fallon had graduated. She’d gotten her master’s degree, and it had been just another moment I’d missed in her life. But it was another good reason that I hadn’t called her first. She was celebrating, and I was mourning.

My fingers slid over the stick drawing once again.

I had a kid to see. I had phone calls to make. But I really had to get my shit together first. I had to figure out what I was going to say and do.

I finished the beer, ordered food I wasn’t sure I’d be able to eat but needed, and then turned on the television. That was how Dad found me, with the food getting cold on the coffee table while I stared unseeing at the news. Will’s death wouldn’t be on it. No one would know he’d died on a mission.

Dad didn’t say anything. He just grabbed a beer I’d replenished with the food order and sat next to me on the couch.

“Your mother and I would like to help with the funeral,” Dad said. I couldn’t look at him. I heard the tears in his voice and knew I’d see them in his eyes. Just that would be enough to break me.

“It’s already been arranged for Wednesday. The brass took care of it, seeing as he had no official family.”

“That’s bullshit. We’re his family.” Dad’s anger finally drew my gaze.

What I found, the understanding and compassion mixed with the anger, seeped into me, igniting the fury I’d barely held in check for two days.

“He shouldn’t have been with us,” I said. “He was losing his shit. Not focused.”

“Will?” Dad’s surprise was well justified. Will was a solid wall. Steady and calm. He loved two things on this earth—being a SEAL and his son. Nothing could distract him from either of those. Irritation flared because if anyone was to blame for what had happened, it was Althea. Will’s baby mama had cost him his life.

“He’d just gotten news that Althea had overdosed.”

“Shit,” Dad uttered. “Is she okay? Where’s Theo? Why didn’t anyone call us?”

“She died.” Dad’s eyes widened. “Child Services took Theo into foster care because Althea didn’t have any emergency contact listed for him besides Will. They put him in some damn group home until Will could get back. HQ was working to get him shipped stateside, but we had this mission they deemed critical first.”

“There’s always one more critical mission.” Dad’s voice was dry and sarcastic.

We let it set between us. Dad had always been open about the mission that had nearly cost him his life along with his teammates. He and Runner had left the military after it had gone horribly wrong. His pal Nash hadn’t taken it lightly, calling Dad a quitter when SEALs were known for doing anythingbutquit. I’d been a little kid, not more than Theo’s age, but I had vague memories of that time, of Dad’s quiet, simmering anger and grief. Eventually, Nash had left the teams too, and he and Dad had picked up a friendship that might not have made it otherwise. The man ran some flower farm in Georgia now. I scoffed silently. From SEAL to flowers.

Will and I had sworn that would never be us. We were lifers—in until they kicked our creaky, crotchety asses out.

But Will had caved…with a single phone call about his son. He was going to leave.

And he’d wanted one last mission to remember it by.

I rubbed a hand over my face before meeting my dad’s gaze once more. We were alike in so many ways. We had the same gray eyes and dark hair. The same square jaw, tall frame, and wide shoulders. But I’d never wanted to be like him in this way, leaving the life I’d devoted myself to because of one mission gone bad.

“He left me in charge of Theo.”