No Reservations (Special Ops: Tribute Book 1) (18 page)

BOOK: No Reservations (Special Ops: Tribute Book 1)
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Maddox pulled her close. “Forget about making dinner. Let’s
get out of here. There’s little in the world that can’t be solved by a beer at
O’Toole’s. Or postponed anyway.”

Feeling some measure of relief, she let her head rest
against his shoulder, soaking in his reassuring presence for a moment till she
gave a nod. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

Treading quietly through the perfectly aligned gravestones
of Arlington National Cemetery, memories gripped Maddox’s heart, and echoing
voices of the past filled his consciousness.

This might not have been the best idea. Yet he could still
hear Bridget’s voice yesterday, telling him that he didn’t know what it was
like to have unanswered questions in his family.

As many things as Bridget had learned about Maddox these
past weeks, she was wrong about that assumption.

Questions plagued him, but he didn’t think he’d get the
answers here. Still, he came, as though hope was tugging him along.

Coming to a halt, his feet sank into the soft, manicured
lawn, still damp from dew. Bridget had plans with Leia today, so Maddox thought
it was time to finally make good on a promise he’d made to Becca. She’d urged
him to come here, having found some peace for herself when she visited her
husband’s gravesite.

Maddox wasn’t expecting the same for himself. If a soul did
continue to shine after its time on this earth, he hoped to God his father’s
wasn’t hanging around here in a cemetery, waiting in the cold, the rain, the
heat, all to bring his son some kind of closure.

The stillness of the late morning overtook him. He spotted
another person, an older woman, standing in front of a marker. He quickly
looked away, giving her privacy. Fresh flowers rested next to the headstone a
few feet from him and he thought for a moment that he should have brought some.
But he’d made this trip impulsively. After Bridget had left with Leia, the quiet
of the inn without any guests in it had unnerved him.

He’d been here a few times before. The first time was with
his mother when he was ten years old. He’d cried that time, one of the few occasions
he’d actually cried about his dad’s death. Most of the time if tears were shed,
it had been because he’d simply wished he
had
a dad, any dad, to teach
him to fish or go to the Father’s Day celebrations at school.

But that time, when he’d stood in the exact place he was standing
now, the tears had been for his father, for the tragedy of a life cut short by
a SEAL mission that few people ever even knew had happened.

The second time, a few years later on a middle school trip
to Washington, DC, Maddox hadn’t cried. Surrounded by his classmates, he’d witnessed
their awe of the man buried here. Maddox had known by then that he wanted to be
a SEAL, wanting his life to make a difference, to be a part of that unending
string of American history like his father before him.

Then he’d visited one last time just days after BUD/S
graduation to let his father know that the torch had been passed.

Today, Maddox stared down at the marker bearing his father’s
name and he remembered that moment, standing here in full dress uniform,
saluting his father. He had, indeed, felt his father here with him then, somehow
standing opposite him, his body erect as he returned his salute. He’d felt the
presence of every fallen SEAL who had been buried at Arlington. And he’d known
without question that his destiny was laid out for him now, aligning with every
SEAL that came before him and those who would follow.

Unlike today. Today, he felt no other presence to strengthen
him. He felt nothing but the burn of tears gathering in his eyes and he blinked
them back, unwilling to give in to the pain.

The sun bathed his father’s grave in a glow that Maddox
desperately wanted to believe represented
something
—some sign from
his dad.

Yet there was only emptiness as he pulled his Trident out of
his pocket and set it down on his father’s gravestone.

“I left the SEALs.” He paused, as though waiting for an
answer, till he gave himself a shake, accepting that none would come. “I—couldn’t
do what you did. I want what you had—a wife, a family. But I’m not
willing to leave it behind so easily.”

Who said it was easy?

Warmth fell over his body at the voice that resonated in his
head. It was Maddox’s own voice he heard, and he knew it. Except as an infant,
he’d never heard his father’s voice, and couldn’t have conjured it in his head
even if he tried. Although the words seemed to come from deep inside Maddox,
not from his mind or his memory, but from his heart.

“Why did you do it then?” He didn’t want to allow the frivolity
of the supernatural to cloud this visit. Yet he still found himself asking. His
question seemed to echo over the eerie landscape, even though it was uttered so
softly Maddox could scarcely hear his voice himself.

A ray of sunshine struck the Trident, almost in answer, and
Maddox thought of all the emblem represented. But it didn’t bring him the
answers like it used to, before Becca and Brandon’s loss.

“I could have been like that, Dad,” he said, his tone
defensive, as though he owed an explanation for why he left the SEALs. “I could
have been like Brandon. The kid’s in pain even now, and it’s been years. He’s
sad and confused. And bitter and angry. He’s too damn young to feel like that. He
looks at me sometimes, and it’s like I’m looking at an old man for all the pain
that little kid’s felt. If you’d stuck around any longer, that would have been
me. And Becca. Christ almighty, Dad, how could you put Mom through that? I
didn’t know. Never bothered or wanted to think about the pain she must have
gone through. But I saw it with Becca. And dammit, I’m mad at you for doing
that to Mom.” The words seemed so foreign on his lips, so different from
everything he’d felt for his father when he was growing up. The pride was still
there, but it was marred by anger. “Why the hell didn’t you get out when you
got married? When you had a kid?”

It was Captain Shey’s words he heard in his head now.
There
are no signs that tell a man when it’s his time to get out.

His dad hadn’t known. He hadn’t known that staying in the
SEALs would cost him his life, leaving his wife a widow and his infant son
fatherless.

“Would you have left the SEALs if you
had
known?” The
question scorched him. He’d never dared to say it aloud till today, and the
words tasted bitter on his tongue.

Maddox had been a SEAL. He’d felt the bonds of brotherhood
and the grip that his love for his country held on his heart. It had always
been mission first, and Maddox had been proud to hold his duty to his country
above all else.

But where does one’s duty to his family fall into the mix?

Maddox left the Navy, not wanting to face that question
himself. He might have told himself a million times that he was getting out to
save his future wife and kid from possible heartbreak. But he was also saving
himself from having to make a choice that might shatter the lives of the people
he cherished. He loved being a part of the SEALs. His spirit was indelibly
linked with them, and with the need to defend his nation. But he also wanted to
give that same kind of love and commitment to a wife and children. And he didn’t
know how to balance the two—having experienced what he had in life, with
his father buried here, and memories of Becca’s and Brandon’s pain still so
crystal clear that the funeral may as well have been yesterday.

To this day, he still didn’t know whether he had done the
right thing.

“I couldn’t do it, Dad. I couldn’t be the second SEAL in our
family to die. To let down a family I want to have one day. I know you were a
hero, but dammit, I wished you were here. Every day, I wished you were here. And
I want to be there for my kids, for my wife, one day. Is that selfish?”

Swearing he felt a hand on his shoulder, he stiffened, but
was grounded enough to not look.

His eyes latched onto the Trident as it shimmered in the
sunlight. He’d intended on leaving it here, leaving it behind with the man who
had inspired the dream, the inexplicable desire to serve. But his fingers
reached for it again. It was hot to his touch now after soaking in the sun’s
rays, and he wrapped his cool hand around it, letting it become a part of him
again.

He may have chosen to end his life as a SEAL. But it would
always be a part of his soul.

Turning, he took two painful steps away from the marker, but
felt something—as though a set of eyes were behind him, watching him
leave.

Go, be the dad that I couldn’t be.

Maddox froze, not from the words that rang in his head, but
from the fact that he didn’t recognize the voice he heard. He did a 180, facing
the gravestone again, and stood erect to his full height. And he saluted his
father one last time.

He held the salute for longer than usual, feeling time stand
still, till his hand finally rested at his side once more.

He’d come back again. Maybe he’d bring a wife and a child
one day. And maybe by then, he’d know whether he’d made the right decision to
take off his Trident.

***

Bridget stretched out on the roof, letting the afternoon sun
soothe her, calm her heavily caffeinated heartbeat, and bring her some
semblance of peace.

Leia had liked Maddox’s idea of a Covert Operations Day,
thinking that several visits to a few successful local coffee houses might
bring her some ideas for her own place. Always happy for a reason to wrap her
fingers around a latte, Bridget had agreed to tag along.

Since they set out this morning, Bridget had sipped two
cappuccinos, an espresso, and three American blends, till she raised her shaky
hand in surrender. But it had been a fun day, and just the distraction she’d
needed. Nothing like a little time with a friend, followed up by an hour of
lounging on her roof, to lend some perspective to her situation.

She liked it up here—enough that she’d even managed to
make it up the ladder on her own. And she vowed that the moment she had enough
money, she would put that roof deck up here.

Hearing a car door slam, she sat up. She couldn’t see him. Yet
she knew instinctively that it was Maddox. He hadn’t been in her life for long,
but she could already tell when he was near.

“Maddox?” she called.

She heard the back fence open and the sound of footsteps
beneath her.

“You up there, Bridget?”

“Yeah. Come on up.”

The soles of his running shoes squeaked against the metal
rungs of the ladder until she saw his face rise up above the line of the
gutter.

“You made it up here on your own,” he greeted her with a
grin.

“I did. Figured the nice view was worth risking my neck.”

“Well, just the same, I’d rather you didn’t do it when
you’re alone.”

She tilted her head and gave him a withering look.

“Okay, okay. Just be careful, though. I’m willing to nurse
you through a back or neck injury, but I’m kind of hoping we can avoid that.”

She smiled. She loved the way he talked, as though he were
planning on being around for a long time. She loved the way he looked at her,
as though he shared the same dreams that she did. She loved… everything about
him.

His gaze seared through her till he reached her side,
pressing his lips to hers. “Did you have a good day with Leia?”

“Yeah. She got a few ideas for her coffee house. And I’m
pretty much high on caffeine right now.”

“Nothing illegal about that. But have you ever heard of this
thing called decaf?”

Bridget winced. “Ugh. Bite your tongue.”

He chuckled. “So what brought you up on the roof?”

“It just feels like the air is clearer up here.” Expelling a
long breath, she propped herself up by her arms and gazed out to the slice of
water in the distance. “I feel like I’m suffocating in the inn right now.”

“Why?”

Raising her eyebrows, she tilted her head in answer. He must
know why. The envelope rested on the top of her desk now, seeming to stare at
her, tempt her, taunt her, and confuse her every time she walked into the
living room.

He gave a nod. “Did you open it?”

“No.” She bent her knees, hugging them close to her body
with her eyes fixed on the distance as though all the answers were out there
where the blue of the Bay met the blue of the sky. “I’m going to throw it out.”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

“I don’t want it. I feel like my whole life, the past
somehow cast a shadow over my present, you know? My parents and all their
secrecy, my dad’s record, even my relationship with Tyler. I’m tired of wasting
my time looking back. My life is finally where I want it to be.”

“Good for you.”

She nodded, somewhat uncertainly. “Yeah. It is good for me,
right? I love my present. I’m excited about my future. I’m not letting anything
pull me back again.”

He gazed at her, probably noticing the doubt that she was
certain flickered in her eyes.

“You’re sure you won’t regret it?” he asked.

Arching her neck, her shoulders sagged and her chin tilted
toward the sky. “I’ve asked myself that a million times. And maybe I will. But
if I just let it sit there in that house…” Her voice trailed for a moment.
“It’s like it’s always on my mind. And I know I’ll wake up every day asking
myself, ‘Is this the day I finally open up that damn envelope?’ I don’t want to
live my life like that.”

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