Page 70 of Sloane

Ever since crying after getting Sloane’s flowers, and again when I got home from lunch with my mom and there was a present from him waiting for me, I’d felt run down. Even his gift—a Keurig coffee maker with a ninety-six-count box of K cups—couldn’t perk me up.

I’d almost missed the typed note on the invoice that said, “I hope this helps with your morning routine (and also starts your day thinking of me). I’ll see you soon.”

I hadn’t bothered unboxing the machine, instead, I put it back in the unnecessarily bigger packaging it had been shipped in, put my pajamas on, and slipped into bed. I’d even begged off my birthday dinner with Tammy in favor of staying under the covers.

I knew I was depressed because all I wanted to do was sleep. But I made sure to write to Sloane every evening when I got home, even on the nights I could barely keep my eyes open.

The roses and lilies were dead and looked out of place among my Christmas decorations, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away. Not yet.

Not until I heard from him again.

What’s the saying? Be careful what you wish for?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sloane

O’Brien stood at the opening of my tent after I returned from breakfast. I’d gone straight to eat after finishing my overnight patrol, hoping a full stomach would help me fall asleep.

“Merry Christmas, Captain.”

“Merry Christmas, Shawn.”

“You got a second?”

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

I sat in the center of my cot while unlacing my boots and gestured for him to have a seat at the end. He shook his head but took a step further inside.

He waited until I had pulled my boots off and lined them up at the foot of the bed before he handed me a sheet of paper with the handwritten title, Last Will and Testament. I looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“I don’t understand.”

“I need your signature as a witness to my will. In case something happens to me, I want to make sure Lainey gets my life insurance policy and the money in my bank accounts.”

I scanned the few paragraphs he’d written. It was short and sweet, but to the point.

“Who’s your beneficiary now?”

“My parents. But they don’t know how serious I am about her, so I don’t think they’d make sure she was taken care of. I’ve already made Callahan promise to give her the ring I bought. I even gave him the combination to my safe where I put it.”

“You trust Callahan with your safe combination?” I said with a chuckle. Anything to try to offer levity to the conversation.

It worked because he grinned when he replied, “Trust me, I’m changing it once I get home.” His face turned somber, and he asked, “So, will you witness that for me?”

I wanted to tell him that a will wasn’t necessary, that we were going to get home just fine. But that’d make me a hypocrite, since I’d essentially done the same thing with my letter to Ryan before we’d left.

The operation had been relatively quiet—far quieter than I’d been expecting, and we’d been slated to head back to the base camp last week. But then intelligence came in that there’d been movement in the area and warned us that shit could get real.

Our mission was simple: find and eliminate insurgents before they found us. Theoretically, a smaller team away from the base camp would be able to do that more quietly and efficiently.

“Yeah, of course. But I think you should mention who your current beneficiaries are and that you’re specifically changing it from them to her.”

He pulled a pen from his fatigues’ shirt pocket and added the paragraph. Fortunately, he had room.

“I would also add something like, ‘nothing further’, and maybe put an X in the rest of the white space, so no one can come along and add something after the fact.”

“Damn, are you a lawyer, Cap’?” he asked as he followed my suggestions.

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