“I haven’t in years. Too crowded, too hot. I usually go to one of the smaller displays on the Chesapeake.”

“The new junior lieutenant on our team—Burns—has a house with a view of a local fireworks display that’s set off from a barge on the Chesapeake. It’s really close to Little Creek. We were all invited to a barbecue at his place. With everyone on high alert, I’d guess that’s canceled.”

“The Fourth would be a significant date to strike.”

Another pop sounded as her words settled in.

She remembered the analyst’s words during the meeting earlier.

“If Grigory Laskin can pull off a large-scale assault on Navy SEALs on American soil…he’d be in a good position to be that leader.”

A good position to be the next president of Russia.

After a long pause, Rand said, “Yes. Very.” His arms loosened around her and she let go of his hands. “I need to call my commander.”

“I know.”

Chapter Forty-Three

The boat lightly rocked, a cozy haven as they lay on the double bed in the stateroom, Kira’s cheek pressed to Rand’s bare chest, her hand resting over his heart. The beat was rapid but slowing as they both caught their breath. One hand stroked her back, dipping down to cup her bottom. She wished this peace would last longer than the time it took for their breathing to even out, but already her mind was spinning in three different directions.

“If we’re going to make this work,” she said, “we need to get in a big ugly fight tomorrow.”

Rand let out a pained laugh. “Not the first thing I want to hear after making love, but I understand.”

She winced. “Sorry. I promise I wasn’t thinking about fighting while you were inside me.”

His arm tightened around her, while the fingers of his other hand threaded through her hair. “So what do you want to fight about?”

“Better if we don’t plan it. I’m sure we can improvise in the moment and it will look and feel more real.”

“’Kay.”

She ran a hand over the smooth moguls of his abs, enjoying the feel of his nails on her scalp. “Tell me about your parents.” Anything to avoid thinking about hers—all three of them.

The fingers threading through her hair stilled for a beat. “It’s not a pretty story. But, obviously, not as ugly as yours, either.”

“The weird part is, up until today, I would have said my parents were pretty great. I just had questions.” She wondered if she’d ever return to that mental space. But right now, she didn’t want to think about it. It was nearing midnight, and they’d been working for hours to plan for tomorrow. At last, they were in bed and she had a few minutes of escape. She’d opted to save shower sex for another time, because she’d wanted to lie with him like this.

Rand’s fingers began working her scalp again. She closed her eyes and made a sound a lot like a purr.

“My childhood was pretty great too,” he began. “It wasn’t until later things got rough. You asked me last December what my dad did.”

“You said he drank in a way that it sounded like it was his job.”

“Yeah. It was flippant, but true. In the end, anyway. He served in Vietnam, drafted when he was nineteen. Never talked about it. In his twenties, he went to college and ended up being a middle school teacher. Language arts, social studies, and physical education. Several years in, he met my mom, a high school English teacher who was ten years his junior. He had PTSD and everything you hear about with Vietnam vets, and of course, it was untreated, but he held it together, first for work—he loved teaching—then because he was in love with my mom. They had me and, two years later, my sister.

“Things were good at home. At least as far as I knew. He coached my Little League baseball team and was the junior varsity baseball coach at the high school. He could have played in the minors if he hadn’t been drafted.”

Kira felt dread at where the story was headed. She shifted so she could tilt her head back and see his face. He lifted her hand from his chest and brought it to his lips, then placed her palm back on his heart.

He turned his gaze to the ceiling as he spoke in a monotone voice. “My dad got upset when I joined ROTC in college and told him I intended to become a SEAL. I thought at first he was mad because I wasn’t going to play minor league ball or even college ball, but I didn’t want to live his interrupted dream. My mom told me it wasn’t that. It was the military. He couldn’t stand that I was willingly joining the ranks of the war machine that had stolen his dreams. He’d always been a drinker, but according to my sister, it got a lot worse when I went off to school. He began to unravel. It all happened so fast.”

“You aren’t responsible for your father’s breakdown.” 

“I know. But it’s like telling me it’s not my fault you were abducted. I saw it happening. My mom even begged me to change my mind. Humor my dad and play ball. I could fail out of baseball honestly and call it a gap year. But I refused. I was angry she’d even asked. I had a full scholarship, and ROTC was no small part of that. If I didn’t take it, another student would get it, and no guarantee I’d get it the next year.”

“It’s ridiculous anyone—let alone a parent—would expect you to give up a scholarship.”

“That’s why I didn’t. I feel bad for the situation I left behind, though. Especially for my little sister. Maggie’s last two years of high school were rough. We suspect my mom had been cheating for a while, but when Dad spiraled, she became less discreet. Like, she wanted to get caught, never considering the consequences. The guy was another teacher at the high school.”

“Oh shit,” Kira said.

“Yeah. His wife was also a teacher. He taught biology. She was the only art teacher. The middle school and high school campuses were right next to each other, and one day, my dad decided to surprise my mom with a fancy takeout lunch as an apology for the ugly fight they’d had the night before. I guess it was bad, but not nearly as ugly as what happened when my dad walked in on my mom and the biology teacher having sex in her classroom.

“She’d locked the door and the lights were out, but my dad had a key. He told the police he’d used it so he could set up the meal with a tablecloth and flowers. The biology teacher was hospitalized. Broken bones. Internal bleeding. Dad was arrested and fired. Mom and the other teacher were suspended. No one could prove they were having sex, or they’d have been fired too.

“My mom left my dad, but stayed at the house until he was released from jail, then she rented a studio apartment. No room for Maggie, who not only had to live with our messed-up dad as he awaited trial, she also had another year at the same high school where our parents had very publicly imploded. Fortunately, she’d already taken biology, but art was out as an elective.”

“That must have been so awful for her.”

“I lived three hundred miles away. Maggie took the train to see me at school as much as possible her senior year.”

“Did your dad go to prison?”

“He ended up plea bargaining down to three months’ jail plus community service. My mom moved back to be with Maggie while he was locked up, but things were strained between Maggie and Mom too. Mom kept trying to blame everything on Dad, Vietnam, and…me. Yes, all those played a role, but so did she. The fact that she never told us about Dad’s panic attacks, that she chose to cheat instead of dealing with their issues, she never shouldered any of it. After Maggie graduated high school, our mom submitted her resignation to the school district and left. Graduation day was the last time Maggie and I saw her.”

“I’m so sorry, Rand. Do you know what happened to her?”

“She moved to a double-wide on the Gulf coast of Florida, but died of lung cancer before my niece was born. I like to think she’d have shown up for Maggie then if she’d been alive.”

“And your dad? What did he do after jail?”

“He lived off social security and his teacher’s pension and drank. He died of liver failure not long after Mom passed.”

It was such a painful story, but for her, the most shocking part was their mother’s abandonment, when it was the father who’d been the violent alcoholic. There must’ve been a lot his mom hadn’t shared for her to turn her back on her children without a word.

It raised questions about her own mother’s choice to abandon Reuben, but right now, her focus was on Rand.

“I’m so sorry.”

He gave her a grim smile. “I work hard to remember the good times. At least, the times that were good for Maggie and me. We were loved. Maybe things would have been different if Dad had gotten support from the VA.” He smiled again, and this time, it wasn’t pained. “He was sober for my graduation. And he said he was proud when I made it through BUD/S. He let go of his anger at me for not living his baseball dreams. We got along during his last years. He would clean up when needed. He attended Maggie’s wedding. He didn’t walk her down the aisle—we couldn’t be certain he wouldn’t be too drunk to walk—so I did. But he was there in the front row, and he was happy and sober.”

“It sounds like you found peace with him in the end.”

“Yeah. Maggie did too.” He was silent for a bit, then said, “He told me one night in his last year that the reason he freaked about me joining the military and wanting to be in the SEALs was he knew they’d make me into a killer. Like they did him. And he never wanted that for me. Couldn’t understand why I’d choose it. I think about that a lot. And he’s not wrong. I have killed. I wasn’t forced into this job. I wanted it. Fought for it. Thought I was going to die several times in the process of getting it, but I refused to ring out. Dad would have done anything to be allowed to quit.”