Cullen choked on his beer. “Say again?”
“I’m guessing you know her,” Beck said, trying to keep his voice even. Cullen was known for his reputation with women. If he’d spent time with Kenna, Beck didn’t know how he’d react. Definitely not well. “If you’ve dated her, you best tell me now and get it out in the open, but I’m seeing her again, regardless, so watch what you say.”
“Have I dated her?” Cullen laughed under his breath. “Are you serious?”
Beck’s neck heated, right hand curling into a fist at what he deemed confirmation that Cullen and Kenna had been involved. Breathe. “Do I look serious?”
Cullen gave a rare smile. “Relax, man. They call her No Men-na Kenna. She’s sealed up tighter than a nunnery at midnight.” When Beck narrowed his gaze, Cullen signaled for shots. “Not that I’ve made any attempts to scale the nunnery walls. Tempting though she is.”
Beck’s body relaxed in degrees, temper cooling like he’d been doused in ice water. She’d lied to him? In an attempt to push him away, no doubt. Too bad it hadn’t worked. Her past made no difference to him as long as he was in her present. Add to what he knew now—that Kenna’s behavior toward him had been out of the ordinary—and his bone-deep feeling had been proven correct. This gravity he felt when they were together wasn’t imaginary. She felt it too, dammit.
The wound in Beck’s side demanded he shift positions. Cullen eyed him curiously as the shots were poured before them, but didn’t comment. Beck left his shot untouched, but didn’t object when Cullen motioned for anther round. This was it. A little fortification wouldn’t hurt, and alcohol might help numb Cullen to the blow Beck was about to deliver.
No more putting it off. He’d had the trip home to digest how things went down over there, but it would be fresh for Cullen. As if Xander had just died.
“Beck!”
His sister’s warm voice brought him up short. Until hearing her speak, he hadn’t realized exactly how much he’d missed Huntley. He’d been away so long, concentrating on the job, staying alive…keeping others alive. After a while, missing his family had become an ache he’d learned to live with. An old injury. Having her familiar, smiling face so close made it new again. “Huntley.” He stood and pulled her into a bear hug. “You look just the same.”
“You look a touch meaner.” She stepped back, wiping tears from her eyes. “When you helped get me this job here, I had this crazy idea you would be around. I’m so mad at you for being gone forever, I could smash something.”
“Now that would be an interesting change,” Cullen said behind him. “Your brother asked me to look out for you, but I can only check up on you at the library or coffeehouse so many times before I die of boredom.”
She pursed her lips, but humor danced in her eyes. “Check out a book next time. You might learn something useful.”
Cullen winked at her. “Curiosity killed the cat, sweetheart.”
Beck wanted to stay quiet, observe this new dynamic between his best friend and once painfully shy sister. When she first arrived at Black Rock, Huntley hadn’t been able to look at Cullen without turning red, but she’d apparently gotten over her shyness while Beck had been gone. If he could have sat there all night and left the news weighing down his shoulders for another time, he’d do it, no question, but the longer he waited, the harder it would be to get the words out.
“Huntley,” Beck started, then immediately had to stop to clear his aching throat. “I didn’t expect you tonight. There’s something I need to speak with Cullen about. Let’s meet tomorrow.”
“You can’t tell me whatever it is, too?” his sister asked, a flicker of hurt in her blue eyes. Rightly so, considering she was his twin and there had been a time they’d shared almost everything.
Cullen had gone still, except for his knuckles tapping on the bar.
One of the drawbacks of going through basic training with someone meant there were no surprises. Beck’s tone had been enough to warn the other man. “Had a feeling this wasn’t just a friendly get-together.”
Cullen inhaled and motioned for another round of shots. They were poured in swift order and he downed his glass in one motion. Beck didn’t touch the one sitting in front of him, his gaze fastened to his friend. Cullen motioned at Beck’s waiting glass. “You going to drink that?”
“I’m good, man,” Beck replied, wincing when Cullen downed the hatch.
Huntley blinked at Cullen, disapproval beginning to color her expression. “I didn’t realize we were getting drunk tonight.”
“I didn’t realize you needed to be consulted.”
“Is that how you speak to my sister?” Taking a breath to allay his irritation, Beck shifted again to ease the pressure on his wound. “We’ll have this discussion later.”
Cullen continued to stare straight ahead, not a hint of emotion on his face. “It’s about Xander, isn’t it? You finally gonna tell me what happened over there?” A muscle ticked in his cheek. He gestured for another drink and watched impassively as it was poured. “When you called to tell us he wouldn’t be coming home, I knew you were holding back. You’re a shit liar, Beck. Out with it. How’d he die? What the hell happened over there?”
There would be no swaying his friend once stubbornness had set in, but dammit, he hadn’t wanted an audience. Huntley and Cullen might be friends now, but Beck doubted he would want her to hear this. This was Beck’s fault. He should have been more vigilant. If he’d fulfilled his promise to protect Xander, none of this would be happening. “If I could keep this from you forever, I would, because there’s no sense in both of us feeling guilty, Cullen. But it’s going to come out in the casualty report this week and I want it to come from me.”
Both Huntley and Cullen remained very still.
Beck released a weary sigh. “We were extracting a group of POWs. They’d been there a week, but we couldn’t get close enough or get an accurate count of the insurgents guarding them.” He swallowed hard. “One of the POWs was a high-profile journalist and there was pressure to act faster than I felt comfortable with. We went in at night…and they’d moved locations through an underground tunnel. We missed them by mere minutes and when we entered the tunnel, there was an explosive device waiting for us.” Cullen tensed beside him but maintained his hundred-yard stare. Beck closed his eyes, scenes from the tunnel bombarding him from all sides. “Xander was the most experienced specialist among us, but he—”
“Finish what you have to say,” Cullen demanded, his voice quiet.
“He got it wrong.” Wood splintering, earth falling, shrapnel lodging in his side. Being unable to reach his friend. “The explosive went off and half the tunnel caved in. Most of us were in an offshoot that remained standing.” Huntley pressed her face to his shoulder and Beck wrapped an arm around her. “This isn’t on you.” It’s on me. “No amount of training—”
Beck didn’t even flinch when Cullen’s fist shot out, sending the shot glasses crashing behind the bar because he’d known it was coming. Nor was he surprised when Cullen scraped back in his chair and took off toward the bar exit.
Beck started to go after Cullen, but Huntley, her eyes full of unshed tears, laid a hand on his arm. “I’ll go.” She rubbed her nose. “I’m a nurse. I work with grief-stricken soldiers every day. He thinks he’s responsible, and that’s worse than grief.” She looked in the direction Cullen had gone, then back at Beck. “It’s going to take him some time.” Her blue eyes sharpened on him. Her hand reached out and touched his side through his shirt, as though assessing his injury. “I’m glad you’re back and it’s over, but you could have died over there, too, Beck. You’re a part of me. I couldn’t have handled that. Please don’t keep anything like that from me again.”