“How old are you, kid?” I asked with a sideways glance at Zed.
“Nineteen, sir,” he answered.
“You know I can't condone under-age drinking.”
The kid's face fell. Then Zed leaned over and said something in Woodley's ear that brought the smile back. The expression on Zed's face told me that I didn't want to know what it was. There was a reason Zed wasn't usually put in charge. He was a good guy, fierce as hell and loyal to a fault. He was the sort of guy who'd always have his buddy's back.
But he never took shit seriously.
Case in point...
“Come on, X, we gotta get you in a shower.” Zed punched my shoulder. “Our leave started the minute you finished that exercise and I don't want to waste any of it.”
I rolled my eyes again, but didn't argue as we started to walk away. I wasn't quite as demonstrative in my enthusiasm, but Zed was right about two things. One, I stunk. Two, I didn't want to waste any time either.
I just didn't think it was for the same reason. Unlike most of my buddies, I rarely looked forward to leave.
“First thing I'm going to do when I get home is eat some fucking real food.”
One of the soldiers behind me was talking with a couple others. His accent told me he was from around here.
“Mom's meatloaf with mashed potatoes. Homemade gravy. Grandmama's collard greens.”
I was guessing Grandmama was from down south. For a moment, I wondered if any of my grandparents were from the south. I'd never met any of them, and my parents sure as hell hadn't talked about them. I didn't even know if any of them were alive or dead. Odds said that at least one probably was still alive, but I'd always figured that if they hadn't found me by now, I doubted I really wanted to know them.
“Hey, Sarge, you got a home-cooked meal waiting for you?” the soldier called up to me.
“Naw, Philly here's an East Coast boy.” Zed tried to rub the top of my head, but I swatted his hand away. “We're going to spend our time getting shit-faced.”
“Speak for yourself,” I said. “I'll take one night out drinking, but I'm not going to spend Tuesday morning puking my guts out and wishing myself dead.”
Zed shrugged. “Your loss.”
“Do you have a girl in the area, Sergeant?” Another of the soldiers asked. “You don't talk much about life outside. Family back home. A girl.” He grinned. “Or a guy. You know, since that's no longer an issue.”
“That's it.” Zed threw his arm around my neck and planted a loud kiss on my cheek. “You've found us out. Xavier Hammond and I are lovers.”
“Shut up, you ass.” I shoved him away from me, hard enough to make him nearly stumble.
I couldn't help but join in as we all laughed. By nature – and by nurture – I was usually a serious guy, but if anyone could make me laugh, it was Zed.
“Come to think of it, sir,” the local boy said. “I've never seen you with a woman.”
“He's got you there,” Zed said as he fell in step beside me again.
“Just because I don't brag doesn't mean I don't get any,” I retorted. “Zed, on the other hand, shoots off his mouth so much that I'm starting to think he's all talk and nothing else.”
“You're just jealous that you always get the ugly friend,” he said with a grin.
“How come you're not going home?” The soldier turned his question to Zed. “Aren't you from somewhere around here?”
“New Mexico,” he answered easily. “But who else would keep Sarge here company if I took off. Besides.” He flashed that infuriating smile. “My mom doesn't cook so good.”
The guys laughed again, but the local boy's attention was on me again.
“What about your family, Sarge? Seventy-two hours could be enough time to fly out to Philly and back again.”
I saw Zed out of the corner of my eye, shaking his head at the soldier. I didn't mind answering though. It wasn't like it was some secret or anything. I just didn't talk about myself or my past. Zed only knew because we'd been friends for a while.
I kept the answer simple, my eyes straight ahead. I had no problem with the truth, but that didn't mean I liked what I had to say. “I don't have any family.”
Chapter Two
Nori
I splashed some water on my face, then looked in the mirror. I'd pulled my nutmeg-brown hair into a ponytail before I'd left my little San Antonio one-bedroom apartment, but that had been twelve hours ago.
Twelve hours in RN hours, to be specific.
That equaled a hell of a lot more than real-life hours.
Hence the reason I needed to fix my hair again. After all, I had another four hours to go. Sixteen-hour shifts weren't overly common at the San Antonio Military Medical Center, but my friend Claire's son had some sort of sporting event last night she'd wanted to go to, and I'd offered to cover her shift. It wasn't like I had a husband and kids to worry about.