Page 42 of Coming In Hot
“Come on, really?” I can’t help it now. There’s no holding back. “I’m Pharo, but you can call me Havoc, because I’m dangerous and daring. Check out my bird, Raven—the death bringer.” My voice drips with mockery, every word sharp with cruelty. I even flip my head, pretending like I have his long hair.
Pharo laughs, clearly enjoying the sting of my sarcasm. “My team’s called Gehenna,” he adds with a conspiratorial smirk.
“God’s justice?” I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “Showoff. You don’t know when to quit, do you?” I take another sip of my drink, the tension in my shoulders easing just a bit. “I didn’t know you had your pilot’s license. What’s it feel like to fly that thing? And Egypt? Damn, you hit the jackpot with that assignment.”
He leans back, his gaze drifting for a moment, and his voice softens. “I requested Egypt because of my mom’s heritage. She taught me some Arabic when I was younger, and I just... I wanted to see where she grew up. I thought, how cool would it be if I could describe it to her in my own words? To help her see it in her mind one last time.”
Aw, fuck, there he goes acting human again.
Pharo continues, his voice turning more somber. “Egypt is unforgettable. Absolutely some of the most gorgeous sights I’ve ever seen, and the sunsets are priceless, but the country is steeped in conflict and—” he pauses, his face turning hard. “I’ve seen more violence there than I did in Iraq. Which is saying something.”
It sure is. I served with him in Iraq, and I know exactly what he saw. It still haunts me to this day.
“I’ve flown through regions hotter than a beach party in Cabo. I’ve washed so much blood out of my bird. I’ve heard men scream. I’ve heard them cry. I’ve heard them pray. But the worst is when they’re silent, because they’re already dead. Do you know what it does to your head when you know you’re not going to make it back in time to save them, but you tell them to hang on anyway, that help is coming? The screaming that you think is never going to end, but then it does, they go silent, and you know you lost them, you lost the race against time.”
My stomach churns with anxiety, for what he’s describing, what he lived through, and most likely, what he sees when he closes his eyes at night. I’m positive Riggs has suffered the same hell when he was a combat medic. I’ve seen a glimpse of the shadows that haunt him. Do they haunt Pharo as well?
“I’m glad Rhett found freedom in flying, but I don’t ever want to be up in the air again after my contract ends. And it’s not just the lives I couldn’t save. It’s the ones I took.” Pharo’s voice drops, heavy, somber. “I aimed my missiles and guns, pressed the button—and in the blink of an eye, I erased their existence. I’ve been shot at more times than I can count. Dodged missiles, rockets. Had two near-collisions with other birds. Hell, one time they shot out my tail rotor, and I almost went down—with a full crew and passenger load.”
Pharo swallows hard, his throat working as he shakes his head, as if trying to shake off the memory, but it lingers in his eyes.
The mood drops like a stone sinking in a shallow pond. I scramble for something, anything, to shift the conversation. “Tell me about this Arlo guy.”
A small twist tugs at his lips, but it’s not quite as light as usual. “Arlo Bacille. He’s a real badass. Our team leader.” He leans back slightly, his tone more thoughtful now. “When I first started, I shadowed him for a while. But after a bit, I realized I had no interest in having my boots on the ground anymore. So, I switched gears and started training for my pilot’s license.”
“And he’s the reason you ran back to Egypt like your ass was on fire?” My voice comes out sharper than I meant it to. Do I sound bitter? Because Ifeelbitter.
“You can’t imagine the guilt I felt when he got hurt and I wasn’t there.”
Conceited bastard. “No? I can’t? It’s not like I’ve ever been through anythingremotelysimilar.”
His eyes flash with a flicker of regret. “I’m sorry. Yeah, you’re right. You’d understand better than anyone, I guess. I had to go back, to…”
“Play hero? Save the world?”
Pharo exhales sharply, clearly frustrated. “Yes? No. I don’t fucking know, Jax. I look up to the guy, alright? I had to be there.”
I feel a bitter twist in my chest. The same way I used to look up to him when he was my commanding officer. I hate the loyalty, the affection he has for this guy—maybe because when he was my leader, I didn’t just look up to him. I wasattractedto him. But is he attracted to Arlo?
“Let me see a picture of this guy.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “I don’t?—”
“Don’t bullshit, Pharo. I know you have pictures on your phone of your entire team.” What friend wouldn’t?
Our waitress interrupts by sliding our plates onto the table. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she adds, placing a bottle of ketchup before me.
Pharo pulls out his phone, scrolling through pictures with a casual flick of his thumb, then turns it towards me, like he’s waiting for my reaction.
Oh, this fucking guy! Really, Pharo? Dark hair peppered with gray and buzzed short, muscles bulging, and a jaw so squared it could cut glass. I whistle long and low. “You’re kidding me, right? This GI Joe wannabe is the guy you look up to? ThisDaddy? Or is itZaddy? Is that what you call him when you’re alone?” I can’t help but snort, the bitterness slipping out before I can stop it. “I bet you look up to him, from your fucking knees.”
“It’s not like that,” he wheezes, trying to hold back his laugh. “Zaddy? God, you’re a mess.”
“At least the money makes it worthwhile, right?”
“I guess. But money isn’t everything.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve seen your townhome—packed with expensive crap. Your clothes, that bougie cologne, your shiny new truck, and that high-end bike you ride. You pay for your mom’s care, and let’s not forget about that empty lot outside of town. Money might not be everything, but it sure as hell makes everything easier.”
