My throat constricted.
"I watched a female soldier being cut down from a tree where she tried to hang herself because she couldn't live with the aftermath of killing women and children who were committing acts of war against us. When she tried again, and succeeded, I watched the medics clean up pieces of her head from where she used a gun to commit suicide because she couldn't deal with the ghosts in her head or the way she always felt fucking dirty," he continued to growl. "My father fought for that flag. My grandfather, too. And his father before him. So, let me tell you something, you little entitled son of a bitch, this country doesn't owe you a goddamn thing except fucking jail time. It should be a felony to burn this flag, but I fought for your fucking rights, so of course, you'll never see it. But that doesn't mean that you don't deserve it."
With that, Sean threw the kid to the ground, and the crowd sucked in a swift inhalation of breath as Sean turned, pointed at them all in turn, and gave them his back as he walked toward us.
Brady had a smile on his face the size of which I'd never seen before, and pride was practically bursting from my chest at seeing my man's show of strength and pride in his country.
"You're so hot," I told him.
Sean's face cracked into a small smile. One that was gone almost before it was even there. One that didn't reach his eyes.
But it was a start and that was all that mattered.
"Good man," Brady said to Sean.
Sean's answering reply was harsh, but nonetheless true.
"I'm fucking sick of this. This country is raising a bunch of pussies, and it keeps getting worse and worse."
I agreed, but the only thing I could change was how I raised my own kids to deal with whatever was happening with this country.
"You'll have to start with your own kids," I told him honestly. "Because you can't start with any that aren't yours. They've already been ruined by their parents' beliefs and bad upbringings."
I gestured to the kids that were still holding their signs, and he sighed.
"My kids ever acted like that, I'd beat the shit out of them," he murmured. "I'd pull them away by their ears, run over all their electronics with a lawn mower like I saw some guy do to his kid on YouTube, and then force them to watch me burn it. Then I'd put the fire out by pissing on it."
I snorted.
"Duly noted."
"I was going to try to watch the funeral procession from here, but I can't see a damn thing," Brady grumbled. "Do you think they'll move and allow me to leave? If I can get out, I can park at the top of my street and watch from there."
Sean grunted. "I'll make sure of it."
And he did.
Five minutes later, he was pushing the crowd back with only a glare, and Brady waved. "See you tomorrow, Naomi."
I waved and watched until his taillights disappeared around a bend in the road, and then turned toward Sean.
"Ready to go?"
His eyes went to the protesters and then to the remains of the burned flag.
Taking two long steps toward it, he snatched up the flag from the ground where it lay like a piece of trash instead of this nation's symbol, and then gestured to the bike.
"Get on. Let's go."
I got on, and we went.
I was putting my helmet on as he pulled past them, and not one of the protesters made eye contact with either of us.
And the whole time I hugged Sean tight.
I was proud of him.
He could've allowed that situation to get out of hand instead of using his head.
But he didn't.
"Why are they being so calm now?" I yelled over the motor. "That easily could have gone the other way."
He stopped at the stop light just past the protesters and turned his head so I could hear him.
Sean shrugged. "Most protesters are generally non-confrontational. Likely, there was only one loser who wanted to burn that flag, and he did. The others didn't participate in it, but they either condoned it by not stopping him or were too stunned by him doing it to do anything about it."
That made sense. I, on the other hand, would like to think that the country I was currently living in wasn't made up of a bunch of spineless people who wouldn't take a stand against something that they knew was wrong.
Sean's hand clamped onto my wrist, and then the light turned green.
His hand lifted, and he waved at a biker who looked vaguely familiar across traffic, yet I couldn't quite place him.
Though, he did that to every motorcycle that passed, so it wasn't an indication that he actually knew the other man.
I swiveled my head so I could watch as the biker turned behind us.