Flash Bang (28 page)

Rick Callahan’s words were an uppercut to Graham’s gut. The icy cold dread he’d felt two mornings ago returned, ten-fold. He ran through the irrefutable facts in his mind: Rowan had already chosen her family over them once. She’d told them last night that it was the only choice she could make in that situation. Faced with the same options, she’d make the same choice again.

“But sir, you and your daughters are all more than welcome to stay here for as long as you’d like. Hell, you can stay forever,” Zach said. “We’d be happy to have you.”

“Well, you may understand this and you may not, but sometimes a man has to have his own place, follow his own path. And staying here would not be that place or that path for me and mine.”

“With all due respect, sir, shouldn’t your family’s safety be your first priority? And they’re safe here,” Zach said, trying a different angle.

“Son, if I wanted you dead, you would never have woken up this morning. I learned a thing or two in the jungle. I can keep my girls safe.”

“But, sir—”

“Let me lay it out for you. If you don’t think Uncle Sam is gonna come knocking on your door sooner rather than later, you boys are crazy. This place is too well prepared not to be on someone’s radar. I don’t plan to be here when that happens, and I don’t want my girls to be here either. When that time comes, if you resist, it’ll be a blood bath. If you don’t, they’ll confiscate your ranch and everything on it under the authority of the National Defense Authorization Act and round you up and take you to some goddamn FEMA camp. It’ll be the same as a concentration camp, complete with a stock of body bags and easy access to mass graves. I’ve been a POW once, and I’m not about to repeat the experience or anything like it. I got a place tucked away where the feds and the military will never think to look.”

Graham watched the color leech from Ro’s face and took in the unnatural stillness with which she held her body. It was all the answer he needed. Sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind. Graham smoothed his features into an expressionless mask before speaking the words he’d never be able to take back.

“We understand your concerns, sir, and respect your decision. We’re happy to have you rest up here until you’re ready to travel, and we’ll supply you and both of your daughters with any additional provisions you need when you all leave.” His stomach twisted as he emphasized the words
both
and
all
.

If it was possible, Ro paled further at his words. It occurred to him that they were probably the words she’d wished he’d said when she’d first stumbled into their lives. Hearing them now would crush anything she might feel for him, but he wasn’t going to force her to choose again. This time, he’d take her pain and bear it himself.

Ro wrapped the sheet carefully around herself and slid to the end of the bed. She stared at the wall as she gathered her clothes, not sparing a glance at either him or Zach.

She cleared her throat. “I think we should head to breakfast, Dad. I’ll get dressed and follow you in a minute.” Her words were toneless, robotic.

Rick narrowed his eyes at him and Zach and then nodded and backed out of the room, shotgun in hand. Ro followed closely after him, leaving the bedroom with her clothes clutched to her sheet-covered chest.

“I’ll see you in a few, sweetheart.”

As soon as they heard the front door shut, Zach shoved on his pants and raced to the front room. Graham picked his clothes up off the floor and dressed slowly.

“Don’t think for a second you’re going anywhere, Ro,” Graham heard Zach say resolutely.

“I can’t talk about this right now,” Ro said. “I have to go.” The hitch in her voice was a razorblade to his skin—a self-inflicted slash.

“Baby—”

“Back off, Zach. Your team leader has spoken. It’s done. If you don’t like it, I suggest you take it up with him.”

The front door slammed. Graham heard a
crunch
as Zach punched through the cheap wooden paneling that lined the front room.

“What the fuck, man?” Zach exploded as he burst into the bedroom. “Just … What. The. Fuck? If you weren’t my best friend … I would kill you right now. Please tell me this is another elaborate plan to get her to stay.”

Graham remained mute as he sat on the bed and pulled on his boots.

“You gotta talk to me, man. Because you just fucked up the best thing that ever happened to us. We just got it all figured out.” Zach raked his hands through his already disheveled hair and yanked.

Graham tucked his sidearm into his holster and hooked the radio onto his belt. He chose his words carefully before he faced Zach.

“What exactly do you think we had figured out? Because her dad just turned the clock back by two days, and if you think for a minute that she wasn’t going to make the same choice she made before, then you’re a fucking idiot.” Graham swallowed, proud his voice didn’t shake.

“So what? You decided to make the choice for her? ‘Here’s some supplies, don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.’ That’s your answer? Because it’s a piss poor one, and you should be fucking ashamed of yourself.”

“What I did was save her from having to tear herself apart trying to choose between us and her family again. It was the
right thing to do.
” Zach shrank back as Graham roared the last words.

“Making her think she meant nothing to you was the right thing to do? You might as well have slapped her across the face. And in front of her dad? The fact that he didn’t unload that shotgun shows that he’s a better man than me, because you just tossed his daughter out of your bed like she was garbage. I feel like I don’t even fucking know you.” Zach spun and left the room. Graham flinched as the cabin shuddered with the force of the slamming door.

Ro was thankful for the numbness that settled over her. It was like her body and mind had gotten together and decided she didn’t need to process whatever the hell had just happened. It was certainly better than feeling like Graham had ripped several vital organs from her body and ground them beneath the heel of his combat boot. In front of her father, no less. That was a humiliation she’d rather not relive.

Her reeling mind said she probably wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of a repeat while locked in whatever bunker her father had provisioned. After this morning, the lack of men in their party might merit a solid check in the ‘pro’ column if she was weighing her alternatives.

Her dad sat on one of the picnic table benches on the covered patio outside the mess hall. She cynically supposed she probably owed him a thank you for bringing Graham’s true colors to light sooner rather than later. Although, after last night, that thought rang false. The declarations of love and then making love ... It had been more than just sex. It had been … reverent. She’d felt worshipped when they’d taken her together. It had seemed like they’d finally figured out how to move forward as a unit. But now, in the light of day, it was like Graham would rather push her away than risk deepening their connection and eventually losing her. Ro stumbled. Was that his motive? Or did he really not care? The latter was hard to swallow, but Ro’s confidence in her ability to discern a person’s motives was still too tattered after the Evelyn-Charles incident. People made declarations of love all the time without meaning them, and apparently Graham was no different. Her dad stood, interrupting her musings.

“Now, sweetheart, before you get upset …” he started.

“I’m not upset with you,” she said, cutting him—and the conversation—off. “But why are you up and around already? Shouldn’t Beau have you chained to a cot in the clinic?”

“You know me, broke my leg and the next day I was harvesting the west field, using my crutches to help me steer. Life doesn’t stop just because it’d be more convenient for you.”

Ro smiled weakly as her father dished out his own brand of wisdom. For a paranoid country bumpkin, he was a pretty smart man. One who’d never waivered in his support of her, her sister, or their dreams. Graham and Zach had been dealt piles of shit when it came to their childhoods; she’d gotten so lucky, but hadn’t appreciated what she had. A rush of emotion pummeled the wall of numbness. She dropped onto the bench next to him and rested her head on his uninjured shoulder. If there were a ‘Worst Daughter of the Year’ award, it would go to Rowan Callahan.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry I made excuses and didn’t spend more time with you. I’m sorry I didn’t come home more. I’m sorry it took
this
to make me realize I was terrible daughter.”

He slid his arm around her and pulled her close. She breathed in the familiar spice of his bay rum aftershave; it was a scent she’d forever associate with him. “What’s this nonsense? A bad daughter? I don’t know why you’d think that, Ro. I’m so damn proud of you; there are days I think my chest might explode from preening like a peacock.”

“But I was never home, and I ...”

“You were chasing your dream. There’s no harm in that. No apologies necessary. You were living your life and going after your goals with the same single-minded focus that your mama applied to hunting me down and bagging me like a dog.”

Ro couldn’t help but smile. “Is that how it went? She chased you?”

“She sure did. Haven’t I ever told you that you get your drive and your guts from her? I was just a simple country boy, but your mama, before she was sick, was a sight to behold. There was nothing she couldn’t accomplish if she put her mind to it. Smartest woman I ever met.”

Ro couldn’t help but wonder how her mother would have tackled the situation she faced. “What would she have done in my shoes?”

“She would’ve found a way to have her cake and eat it too. And your mama liked her cake.”

“I don’t see how that’s possible. You won’t stay, and they won’t go. They’re mutually exclusive options.” Ro looked up at him. “Please explain to me again why you won’t stay. This place is perfect. They’ve got everything.”

He pulled away and turned to face her. “Well, sweetheart, that’s the problem. It’s too perfect, and that means there’s a giant red bull’s-eye painted on this place. It’s obvious these boys are former military. Which means they still know people in the military. Which means people in the military know them, know where they live, and probably know what kind of preps they’ve made. It all comes down to how loyal those people are and how long that loyalty will last when things start to get real tough out there and they’ve got orders to carry out.”

He had a point, and it was one Rowan couldn’t refute. And even if she could, once his mind was made up, there was little to no chance of changing it. Ro sighed, the impossible nature of the situation weighing her down until the welcome numbness returned.

He picked up the shotgun from the picnic table. “You want me to go back and shoot ‘em? Or maybe just one? It’s not like you really need ‘em both, right?”

Ro covered her face with both hands. “We are never talking about this again.”

Now, if only she could train her mind not to think about them again. She forced a fake smile and went into the mess hall for breakfast.

The last seven days had followed the same pattern: Graham woke up, worked for eighteen hours, pulling double or triple fire watch shifts or manning the command post, before falling back into bed.
Alone
. From what he’d gathered, Rowan and Erica had ganged up on Rick and persuaded him that his health required he stay more than the one day that Callahan would have preferred. No one had told Graham, and he’d refused to ask, exactly when the Callahans were planning to leave. Every day he dreaded getting the radio call announcing their truck was exiting the main gate. Every day the announcement didn’t come, he didn’t know whether he was relieved or disappointed. It was like drawing out the days on death row; at some point you had to give up hope of a pardon and welcome the needle that would end you.

Zach was still avoiding him … and their cabin. Graham wasn’t sure where he’d been sleeping, but his mind conjured images of Zach and Rowan curled up together in one of the vacant guest cabins. He crushed those thoughts. Sitting at the desk in the command post, chuckling half-heartedly at the good-natured barbs being thrown back and forth on the radio, he tried not to think about spending another night alone. About spending the rest of his nights alone.