Page 53 of Coming In Hot
Nash shifts uncomfortably in his seat, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, clearly trying to protect himself. I can tell it's not about the kids, but about what volunteering might stir up inside him—emotions he’s not ready to face. Nash is easily triggered, and uncontrolled environments scare the shit out of him.
Mandy’s voice breaks the tension that’s building between Nash and Riggs. “I don’t mix well with kids,” he adds softly, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to shake off an old memory.
The silence that follows is thick, and everyone’s eyes flicker toward Mandy. His scars are hard to ignore, and we all know what they represent. It’s not just the physical ones, either; it’s the mental scars that make him vulnerable. He’s shared before that kids, especially when they’re scared of him, are one of his biggest triggers.
I peer over at Mandy, seeing the hurt behind his tough exterior. “You’re not gonna scare any kids, man,” I say, I say gently, hoping he believes it. “These kids? They’ll be more focused on what we can teach them than on how you look. Hell, if anything, you’ve got a story to tell, a real one. They could learn something from you.”
Mandy’s jaw tightens, but there’s a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. It’s the closest I’ll get to seeing him soften, and I’m not going to push him too hard on this. But, goddamn, I know this is something he’s going to have to work through. If he decides to go through with this.
Riggs, ever the relentless bastard, pushes on, unfazed by the discomfort in the room. “That’s the whole point, Mandy,” he says, trying to rally us. “They need to see real people. Not some faceless adult who only shows up to lecture them. You guys have lived through shit, and if anyone can connect with those kids, it’s you.” Mandy doesn’t seem convinced. “If it becomes a problem, we can find you something to do behind the scenes.”
I catch Nash’s eyes and see that he’s still wrestling with the idea, his posture stiff and defensive. He’s not the type to open up easily, and he’s afraid of getting hurt—afraid of appearing vulnerable in front of people, especially kids. He doesn’t want to face whatever might come up if he’s forced into a situation that’s beyond his control.
“I don’t know, man,” Nash mutters, shaking his head. “I just don’t deal well with… things that remind me of my own shit.”
I get it. I get it more than I want to admit. That’s part of why I’m even considering this bullshit project. It’s not about the kids, either. It’s about me not wanting to be the one who hides from life anymore, like Nash is trying to do. But that’s a different story.
Riggs doesn’t back down. “You’ll be fine, Nash. All you have to do is show up, and it’ll be a hell of a lot easier than sitting at home stewing in your head. Brewer has already cleared you,” he adds, referring to the resident head doc and Nash’s partner.
“You realize we’re BALLS counselors?” McCormick asks, breaking the awkwardness with a ball joke. “Anyone having any issues they need to discuss? Jock itch? Chafing? Ingrown hairs? Unexplained blisters?”
“Why don’t you come over here and counsel my balls, Mac?” West jokes.
McCormick laughs, tossing up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just trying to make this more comfortable, alright?” He winks. “I’ve got a whole arsenal of remedies, guys. Seriously. If anyone needs any...specializedattention, you know where to find me.”
Riggs groans, rubbing his temples. “We're not doing this again, McCormick.”
“Come on, Riggs,” McCormick presses, clearly enjoying himself. “You can’t tell me you’ve never hadthatissue before. Don’t make me ask Rhett.”
West snorts, tossing a grin McCormick’s way. “I’m not gonna lie, man, there have been times I thought I was gonna have to call the fire department. Beard burn!”
Nash snickers reluctantly, his shoulders still tense, but at least the mood’s lightening up. “Alright, alright,” he says. “Enough with the ball talk. Let's just... get back to the part where we all agree to sign up for this thing and try not to look like a bunch of pansies.”
I snicker under my breath, glancing around the circle. Even Riggs cracks a smile, though he’s trying to keep the focus on the task at hand.
Mandy seems hesitant but bobs his chin. “Fine, whatever. If it helps kids, I’m in.”
Nash throws up his hands. “Alright, I guess if we're doing this, we’re doing it for the kids and not... ball issues.”
McCormick slaps him on the back. “That’s the spirit!”
Riggs glances around, his earlier seriousness returning, but with a hint of pride in his voice. “Good. That’s what I like to hear. Alright, let’s share, and no more ball jokes.”
The guys start chatting again, the mood shifting into a more comfortable, familiar rhythm. And for once, I feel like I’m actually in a place where maybe... just maybe... I can stop running from the things that make me uncomfortable, like Mandy and Nash.
I’m not alone in this. It’s something we all struggle with to different degrees, and if we stick together, we’ll get through it just fine.
Eventually.
But those kids at summer camp? I can’t guarantee they’ll be fine whatsoever. Not with the Bitches as their counselors.
CHAPTER19
PHARO
The giant steelblades of the chopper beat steadily, a familiar hum that should feel comforting, but today it doesn't. I glance at Orson beside me. His eyes are fixed on the horizon, scanning for anything that seems off. The mission is simple—escort a group of medical volunteers to a village cut off by conflict. Nothing new. But something about today feels different. Like the air is thicker, more charged.
We’re outside Cairo now, the sun beating down on the desert, and the skyline fading behind us. I’ve only been back with the team for a little while, and I still feel the shift. Arlo’s back with us, but not fully present. Hogan’s the one taking the lead now, and though he’s solid, the dynamic feels... off.
