Ty wrapped Zane up in a hug, his murmured words too low to overhear. They stood that way, grasping each other for dear life.
Kelly took Owen’s hand and shook it, pulling him into a hug. “Be safe, bud,” he whispered.
“You know what to do, right?” Owen asked.
Kelly nodded and released him. Both Nick and Owen had put Kelly in charge of their affairs. Nick because he had no one else he trusted, and Owen because his parents didn’t have the security clearance.
Owen backed away and let Digger move in for a hug. He bypassed the handshake entirely and picked Kelly up, squeezing him to the point that it hurt. Kelly laughed breathlessly and patted his back until Digger set him down again. Digger turned away without a word, sniffing audibly.
Kelly forced himself to meet Nick’s eyes. Nick moved close and hugged him gently, pressing their cheeks together, his warm hands splayed against Kelly’s back. “I don’t have the words,” he whispered.
“You don’t need them,” Kelly said shakily. “Just watch your damn six out there.”
Nick nodded jerkily and moved away, his head down and his shoulders slumped. Kelly fought back tears as he looked at the three of them. His boys.
Ty grabbed Kelly’s face and kissed his forehead, patting his cheek. “Be good,” he said gruffly before moving away. He joined the others, all of them turning to face Kelly and Zane. They went to attention without a word, standing shoulder to shoulder. Then each of them gave a sharp salute.
Kelly finally lost control and let the tears track down his face without wiping them away. He straightened and returned their salute, holding it until the four remaining members of Force Recon Team Sidewinder turned away and headed for the gangway, walking once again into the fray.
Not one of them looked back.
“Oh God,” Zane whispered.
“They’ll be okay,” Kelly said shakily.
Zane sniffed and nodded. “Yeah. It’s us I’m worried about.”
Kelly didn’t tear his eyes away from the gangway until the last man was out of sight. Then he turned to Zane. “Nick O’Flaherty doesn’t make a promise he doesn’t intend to die trying to keep.”
“He made me a promise,” Zane said.
Kelly nodded, swallowing hard. “Me too.”
Zane was on his way up the stairs when the doorbell rang. He debated not answering it, but ultimately he headed back down, grumbling. It was Sunday, his only day off, and he didn’t want to deal with any shit today.
He peered through the peephole, and his heart stuttered when he saw the Marine on the stoop. He was wearing a green and khaki service uniform, a barracks cover on his head. A seabag was slung over his shoulder, and he stood straight and tall as he looked out on the street, his back to the door.
Zane fumbled with the lock, his fingers suddenly unable to keep up with his racing heart. Was it news? Was it good or bad news? Why the hell would a Marine be standing on his stoop if it wasn’t news?
He swung the door open, feeling stupid and clumsy as the man turned to face him.
“O’Flaherty?”
Nick gave him a wan smile and held up his hand. “No one’s hurt.”
Zane glared at him. He wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. And he wasn’t sure whether to hug him or hit him.
Nick laughed at Zane’s expression, the sound flat and tired. “Nothing’s wrong, I promise.”
Zane looked him up and down, inspecting him for injuries that would have sent him home. None were visible. “Why are you here? How are you here?”
“Forty-eight-hour special liberty.”
Zane frowned harder. He realized he was still gripping the door, and his knuckles hurt. He let go and shook his hand. “Special liberty?” he asked carefully.
“I have a cold,” Nick answered, deadpan. He waited a beat. “Can I come in?”
Zane started, nodding as he stepped out of the way. “Yeah. Shit. Sorry, I just . . .”
“Panicked, I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t have anywhere to change out of the uniform,” Nick said as he stepped inside. He set his seabag down by the door, the same spot Ty always dropped his gym bag when he was tired after a long day.
Zane stared at it for a moment, letting the pain settle in his chest before he tried to take another breath. He finally tore his eyes away and tried to smile at Nick. Nick was watching him. He seemed exhausted, but his frown was sympathetic. He had to sense Zane’s disappointment that he wasn’t Ty.
“You look good,” Zane managed to say with a wave of his hand at Nick.
Nick smirked. “I know. Marines always look good.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a leather billfold that appeared to hold his orders, then pulled a creased and battered envelope from the billfold and handed it to Zane.
Zane stared at it, licking his lips and steeling himself before he reached for it. It was warm against his fingers, and the simple scrawl of his name was familiar. It was from Ty, but it had the appearance of a letter that had seen many nights in someone’s pocket. Zane knew a lot of soldiers, sailors, and Marines left a letter with a buddy in case they didn’t make it home. If Nick had been carrying this letter around every day for that reason, Zane didn’t want to read it. “This isn’t . . .”
“He knew I was coming home,” Nick answered, voice gentle. “He wrote it before I left.”
Zane released the breath he’d been holding in a rush. He turned the letter over, fingers shaking, desperate to rip it open and read the first communication he’d received from Ty in months.
Nick cleared his throat. “Garrett. I know my way around if you want to take that upstairs and read it. You can write him a response and I’ll carry it back with me.”
Zane blinked at him, fighting to breathe. “You only have forty-eight hours. You shouldn’t waste them.”
Nick raised both eyebrows and shook his head. “I’m not.”
Zane stared at him for another breathless second, then lunged and wrapped Nick up in a hug. Nick began to laugh, patting him on the back awkwardly. “Go on,” he finally urged. “I’m going to steal some of Ty’s Cubans while you do that.”
“Deal.” Zane backed away and then turned to head up the stairs, the letter pressed to his hip so his fingers wouldn’t tremble as he held it. He heard Nick in the kitchen, probably retrieving the portable safe Ty kept hidden below the kitchen sink where he stowed his Cuban cigars. Zane didn’t even care that Nick knew it was there. He went to his bedroom and sat on the end of the bed, staring down at the letter from Ty.