Page 27 of A SEAL's Legacy
I close my eyes and take a few breaths, knowing Kelly won't rush me. This question is too important. I do what I always do when giving my opinion about a new caregiver.
I ask myself one question. Would I let Kyra stay with them? Images pop into my head of my little girl, the daughter of my heart, who will one day officially be mine. The person I love most in all the world.
I imagine Kyra and Amos. I imagine her tentatively peering up at him, still untrusting of adults. Then I imagine her shy smile, her taking his hand and showing him her latest craft project. I imagine them playing together, her riding on his back, the way I've seen other girls do with the father figures in their lives. My heart aches with a new longing as I imagine her small arms around his neck and him gently carrying her to bed and tucking her in.
Can I imagine Kyra with Amos? Absolutely, and it's making me long for a different kind of family. My eyes fly open, and Kelly's watching me intently.
"Yes," I say. "He's safe."
Kelly nods. "Good. Let's hand Sam over to him and free up a place with the Deacons."
I make a note on my notepad. But for the rest of the day, all I can think about is my little girl and Amos and the type of family I never dreamed I could have.
13
AMOS
Bang, bang, bang
The pungent smell of gunpowder fills the air, bringing back memories of hard stone roofs under a desert sky and a hundred other missions.
The rifle feels good in my hands, and I reluctantly sit up and peel my ear defenders off.
"Nice shooting."
Marcus's New Zealand accent draws out the vowels and makes him sound relaxed. But a moment later he's lying flat with the rifle lined up and a killer look in his eyes that's anything but relaxed. I was never in Marcus's SEAL team, but I’d heard about the Kiwi, the short wiry guy always joking around, but deadly on a mission.
He raises his gun and fires off six rounds, dropping his sights slightly for the final shot.
I frown at him, and he grins as he punches the button to bring the targets back. They're an outline of a person, and all six of my shots make up one big hole right between the eyes.
I check Marcus's and there's a hole in the same place, another between the eyes, and one lower down, in the groin.
He grins at my confused expression. "I like to give 'em one in the balls."
Marcus pulled some strings and got us a session at the police shooting range. It's the only local range that has targets shaped like people, and they don't mind opening up for veterans.
"Do you miss it?" Marcus asks.
I breathe in the scent of gunpowder, and it reminds me of nights in the desert hiding out on rooftops and other missions from my old life.
"Every fucking day."
Marcus nods. "Me too, bro. Me too."
We change out the target and send it back to the end of the range.
"It's a big ask to give it all up," says Marcus
I think about my career, and I think about Sam. "It's the right thing to do."
"What will you do for work? Not much call for a sniper outside of the military."
He's right, which is why I asked Joel to join us today. Joel was Ed and Jake's SEAL commander until he left the military. He's opening a veteran's center in Jake's honor called Jake's Retreat.I've been meaning to go and see him, but with all the prep for Sam I haven't had a chance.
"Something will turn up."
"I'd be back in if I could." Marcus slides a fresh magazine into the chamber of his rifle. "I miss the excitement. No offense to your hometown, but Hope's kind of dull."
