“You all right, man?” Micah asked, his tone serious.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…” He wouldn’t understand. Nobody would.
“I know, Griff.” Micah placed his hand on my shoulder. I didn’t bother
trying to remove it. Micah wouldn’t budge. “We’ll find her. You’ve gotta
“Alive or dead?” I whispered.
“Yes, we’ll find her,” I lifted my eyes to the ceiling and blew out a
frustrated breath. “But will it be alive or dead?”
“She’s a fighter, Griffin. We’re
going to bring her home.” Micah’s head twisted toward the kitchen as another
cry rang out. He turned back to me and squeezed my shoulder. “We won’t stop
until we do.” And then he was gone.
Of course we’d bring her home. I knew that. Leave no man behind. Dead or alive. Jesus, let her be alive.
I followed the sounds of laughter and made my way into the kitchen,
pausing at the door and taking in the sight of my family. No one acknowledged
my presence, and that suited me fine. Nell was putting some snacks out for
everyone. Micah and Sadie each held a baby, swaying to calm them. Doc and Aiden
sat at the bar shoveling food into their mouths as quickly as it hit the
She should be here.
I rubbed the ache in my chest as I walked the rest of the way into the
“Finally.” Nell winked to soften the comment.
“Sorry,” I mumbled to no one in particular. No one acknowledged the
apology, nor had I expected them to. I knew they weren’t angry with me for my
broodiness, and certainly, they had an idea of the cause. With our shared past,
most of us had PTSD, causing some off
days. Sure, I’d been cranky and anti-social more than usual, but they
understood why. Partially, anyway.
The next hour was as close to fun as it could get. We ate, joked,
laughed, and ribbed each other. We talked about our time together in the Navy
Seals, regaling Sadie with more stories than she probably wanted to hear. It
all felt so…normal.
She should be here.
As Doc was reminiscing about his first day with the BRB, my phone
vibrated in my pocket. I ignored it, wanting to stay present in the moment.
When it vibrated again, and again, I gave in and took it out of my jeans. After
swiping my finger over the screen, I punched in the passcode, and my stomach
dropped as I read text messages from Jackson, the Sheriff.
Possible break in the case.
need you. Be at my office in
half an hour.