Page 40 of Romeo

Then, with precision I wouldn’t have expected, he carefully removes the polish on each of my toes before setting my foot aside and doing the same with my other one.

All while I sit here, completely enthralled as I watch him tenderly care for me in a way no one ever has.Not even the paid manicurists ever took such careful care with me.He’s right about me loving to have my nails painted.

They almost always have a shade of some kind on them because it’s something I can control.Choosing a color is easy, and it’s a choice that won’t lead to any consequences.If I don’t like it, I change it.Easy peasy.

“I hope this color is okay.This is apparently Lani’s emergency nail polish bag.”He chuckles.“Who knew that was a thing?”With careful strokes, he applies polish to the toes of my right foot, meticulously inspecting each one and cleaning off any excess with a Q-Tip he pulled from the bag.

“It’s a great color.”

“I thought so too.”

Silence descends around us as he finishes up my right foot then sets it aside and places my left one on his leg.

“When did you start believing in God?”I blurt the question, honestly unsure why I’m asking even as the words leave my lips.

Riley doesn’t look up at me, nor does he miss a movement as he switches and adds polish to a new toe.“I grew up in church,” he replies.“So I don’t know that there was ever really a moment when I didn’t believe.”

“Oh.”I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I feel a bit deflated at his answer.I grew up in church, too, but ever since that night when I was sixteen, I’ve struggled—a lot.Why would that happen to me?Why did I have to suffer?

He finishes my left foot then sets it aside and gently places the lid back on.He doesn’t get up though.“If I must be honest, though, back then I think I was just going through the motions.I believed in God.I knew that Jesus was sent to save us from our sins, but it never really hit me just how much we need Him.Not until one of our missions went sideways and I nearly died.”

“You nearly died?”

He nods then raises his shirt to show me the bullet hole on his chest.I try not to let my gaze be captivated by the hair-dusted, muscled chest and, instead, focus on the injury he shows me before pulling his shirt back into place.“My brothers and I were all Spec Ops in the army,” he continues.“Because we were brothers, they didn’t allow us to serve in the same unit, so we were kind of stationed all over the place.I ended up getting sent in to deal with a man who was trying to overthrow a small government in an undisclosed location.”

“Undisclosed as in you can’t talk about it?”

“As in I didn’t even know where I was going,” he replies.“The pilot was the only one who knew, and our team wasn’t allowed to ask questions.”

“You just acted.”

“We did.”He clears his throat then lifts my right foot again and starts adding a second coat.“When we got there, we discovered that he’d taken hostages.Women and girls ranging from ages eighteen months up to sixties.They were his insurance policy, and if he didn’t succeed, he was going to start executing.”

My stomach plummets.So much evil.How much has he seen?

“My team successfully retrieved all thirty-nine hostages—alive—but as we were getting them out, our target used a passage that wasn’t on any building schematics we were provided and flanked us.He fired on one of the women—a young mother carrying her baby.I jumped in front of her and took a shot.His bullet hit me, and I was unconscious before I even realized I’d managed to take him out too.”

“You stepped in front of a bullet?”I’m not sure why I’m surprised.Everything about this man screams hero.My thoughts momentarily drift back to the fierce gaze he’d had when he and Romeo burst into that motel room after I was stabbed.

“I did,” he says.

“How did that strengthen your faith?I mean, you walked into such a horrific situation and then nearly died.”

He considers my question, and I can’t tell if he’s just trying to find the right words or deciding how much to share.“I can’t really explain it, but at the exact moment he fired his weapon, it felt like arms came around me,” he says.“Like I was being hugged right before that bullet hit me.When I woke up, the doctor told me he wasn’t sure how I survived, but the bullet stopped before it hit my heart.”

“What do you mean, stopped?”

“It got lodged in the muscle of my chest.He said it was as though something slowed the bullet down so far it couldn’t fully penetrate my body.”

I gape at him.“Are you making this up?”

He laughs.“Nope.Not a single word of it.I even kept the X-rays they took so I can look at them whenever I start feeling overwhelmed.The truth is, in that moment, I realized that there isnothingGod can’t handle.He saved me, and from that moment on, I started treating my life like the gift it is.Everything I do, I try to bring glory to Him.”

“I don’t even know where to begin understanding that.”

He starts adding the second coat to my left foot.“I don’t expect you to understand it.That was my truth.I’m sure you have your own.Or, that you will.”

“I’ve felt alone for a long time,” I tell him truthfully.“Even before my grandfather died.”

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