Explosive Reunion. Karen Kirst

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       THREE

      How had a normal, routine day turned into something out of a strange dream?

      First her car went up in flames, then her apartment was damaged and now she was being yanked down memory lane against her will. When she’d agreed to eat with Cade, she hadn’t factored in the power of nostalgia.

      Here she was in what used to be their favorite booth, seated across a narrow stretch of silver-flecked Formica, with 1950s’ songs belting from the jukebox. Nothing about this place had changed. Pictures of Elvis still hung on the walls. Cherry-red padded bar stools lined the bar. The smell of grease, fries and burgers mingled with chocolate malt.

      She shouldn’t have agreed to this.

       I’m in trouble, Lord. I can’t pretend my heart doesn’t ache for the days when I could tell Cade anything. He was my closest, dearest friend. I’ve missed him.

      She managed to order without sounding as if this blast of sentimentality was filling her with sadness. At least the young waitress was a new face, someone unfamiliar with their history. Because Sneads Ferry was situated right outside Camp Lejeune’s back gate, it was a popular spot for military personnel to live. People were continually moving in and out of the area.

      “When are you going to tell your mom?”

      “I don’t know.” She wished she could avoid it. “I’d like to wait until after the party.”

      “I saw her last week at my parents’ fish fry. She looks better. Not having to worry about the day-to-day responsibilities of the shop has helped, but I get the feeling she misses her customers.”

      “They miss her, too. Not a day goes by that someone doesn’t ask about her.”

      “She’ll be ready to return eventually. Once that happens, will you look for a position at a local library or return to Tennessee?”

      She shrugged. “I don’t want to rush Mom. And now that I’m here, I’m realizing how disconnected Jason and I have become. I’d like to rebuild our relationship, but he’s resisting.”

      Tori couldn’t determine if his aloofness was because he was a teenager and it wasn’t cool to hang out with his older sister or if her absence had driven a wedge between them.

      “Give him time,” Cade said. “He’ll get used to having you around.”

      Not if he enlisted, he wouldn’t. She held her tongue. Hadn’t she implied they were capable of a peaceful dinner?

      “Blue Suede Shoes” belted from the jukebox. The short-order cook called out to one of the waitresses. Through the plateglass window, she watched a happy couple strolling hand in hand into the riverfront park. As they passed, Tori spotted a man in a black baseball cap, tattered jeans and boots, with a tattoo curled around his biceps and forearm. A snake, maybe? His cap pulled low over his sunglasses, he was standing beside a blue mail receptacle and staring straight at them. The moment he realized she’d seen him, he pivoted and cut a diagonal path through the park.

      Tori dragged her gaze from the retreating stranger. Her imagination was leaping to irrational conclusions.

      A plate of seasoned fries and a cheeseburger was set before her. The aroma of seared meat and smoky bacon teased her nose. Although Cade had ordered the same, he snagged one of her fries and popped it in his mouth, a boyish smile flashing.

      “Try that again, Staff Sergeant, and you’ll regret it.” She made a show of pulling the plate closer to her.

      At her use of his title, his brows shot up in silent question.

      “It’s on your collar.” She brandished a fry toward the metal pins affixed to the sturdy material. “It should come as no surprise that my mom has kept me informed of your ascent through the ranks. I know that you’re in charge of thirty-nine Marines and that you were hailed a hero during your last deployment.”

      Six months ago, her mom told her that Cade had been involved in an ambush and had saved someone. Tori had experienced nightmares for weeks afterward. Off and on through the years, she’d considered telling her mom to cease with the updates. They weren’t a couple anymore. They didn’t text or email. Didn’t follow each other on social media. But she hadn’t been able to cut off the flow of information. Because no matter how much time passed, she needed to know he was all right.

      Cade fiddled with the straw in his milkshake, his mouth grim. “Kind of difficult to think of myself that way when we lost someone. I may have helped Corporal Faulkner, but I wasn’t able to do anything to save William Poole. He was an outstanding Marine.” The haunted look about his eyes troubled her. His fingers pressed into the beveled glass.

      “Surely you don’t blame yourself.”

      “Did I do what I thought was right at the time? Yes. I relied on my training and sheer instinct. Not everyone was satisfied with my performance, however. Two Marines in my platoon lodged complaints with our command, which led to an informal investigation into my actions.”

      “But you weren’t found to be at fault.”

      “No.”

      Tori wanted to reach across and squeeze his hand. Offering him comfort used to be second nature.

      “I thought we’d agreed to keep the conversation shallow and meaningless,” she lightly chided.

      “You’re too easy to talk to. That hasn’t changed.”

      Whatever else he might’ve said was lost by a foreign sound. A high-pitched ping. Glass splintering. A heavy thwack.

      Then, for the second time in the span of a few hours, Cade was diving for her.

      Screams rent the air. Another round whizzed into the diner.

      Cade’s focus narrowed to one thing—keeping Tori safe.

      Familiar with the hail of gunfire, he’d tugged her to the space beneath the table and ordered the others to hunker down. Somewhere in the room, a woman sobbed. A baby’s helpless cries prompted him to action.

      He gripped her shoulders. “Stay here.”

      “Where are you going?” Her eyes were huge pools of dread.

      “To see if I can spot the shooter before he decides to come inside.”

      “Are you armed?”

      In answer, he lifted his pant leg and removed his Beretta Jetfire from the ankle holster. His larger weapon was at home in the safe, more suited to long-range targets. This one would have to do.

      He СКАЧАТЬ