He must’ve made some kind of noise, because Shane glanced at him curiously. Geo cleared his throat. “Right. Second Phase is not a fun memory.”
“It ranks up there as being some of the worst weeks of my life,” Matt agreed. “This clown aced it, though.”
“What can I say? I’m comfortable in the water.” Shane rubbed his hands together theatrically before saying, “In all seriousness, I’m eager to get a glimpse of BUD/S from the inside out, and now the guy I’m replacing can get back to operational status a few months sooner. It’s basically a win-win.”
Geo and Matt parted ways with Shane at the entrance to the Naval Special Warfare Center, then ambled along the sidewalk in the direction of the kennel.
“So how are you doing?”
At Matt’s soft query, Geo shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I’ve been talking to a friend who’s a suicide survivor herself.”
“Yeah? You think it’ll help?”
He thought about Lani’s quiet empathy, her understanding, even in the face of her shock at the true nature of Cade’s death. “I think it will, given some time. I’m gonna be staying with her at her place.”
“Really? That’s great.” Matt looked like he was debating with himself, then said, “I’d, uh, been planning to talk to Shane about you staying with us for a while. Didn’t want you to be alone,” he added. “Those barracks are depressing as fuck even in the best of times.”
Geo blinked, warmth sprouting in his chest, but before he could say anything, Matt went on, “Swim buddies, you know? Least we could do.”
“Thanks, Matt.” Geo elbowed him in the side. “You’re a great swim buddy.”
An embarrassed but pleased look flitted over Matt’s face, and suddenly, Geo found himself offering to bring Bosch by their team room to meet anyone else who was interested.
“It’s my opinion that every troop should have a multi-purpose K9.” He grinned. “Lemme pitch it to your lieutenant.”
“Ha. Done.” Matt dug his phone out of his pocket, thumbs flying. “Just texted the El-Tee. I’ll let you know.”
After he’d trotted off to run his errands while he waited for Shane, Geo headed for the kennel, where he leashed Bosch up and took him for a punishing run. Forty minutes later, dripping with sweat, endorphins coursing through his blood, he crouched to give him a drink. “Exercise is the only therapy I need, right, boy?” he panted. “Fuck that psychologist shit.”
Or the support group. The thought of walking into a room full of wild-eyed, tearstained strangers made him queasy. He didn’t want to hear their stories, or relive their pain, or feel like a bug under a microscope. Besides, SEALs weren’t supposed to need their hands held, weren’t supposed to be perceived as failures who couldn’t figure their shit out on their own. That went against everything he’d learned, everything he stood for, and the last thing he wanted to do was expose his weaknesses.
Tamping down a flicker of discomfort, he said to Bosch, “You know I don’t mean Lani, right? It’s different for her. She was a kid.”
Bosch didn’t have an opinion to offer, just gazed at him with his dark, impassive eyes.
“It’s fucking different, okay?”
After getting back to the kennel, Geo dug out his phone and found a text from Matt.
Meet us at the O-course!
He slipped Bosch’s muzzle on, grabbed a small duffel of equipment, then headed over to the SEAL obstacle course, a sadistic collection of apparatus that had sent many a BUD/S candidate stumbling to ring the infamous bell.
Once there, Matt introduced him to Lieutenant Bradley. “Okay, convince me,” he said, grinning. “And if you can fit in a workout for us somewhere in there, all the better.”
His blood racing with anticipation, Geo faced the semi-circle of men waiting expectantly. A few of their expressions held smirks, a few trepidation, and a couple more excitement.
At his feet, Bosch sat quietly, his ears pricked.
“Okay, here’s how it’s gonna go,” Geo said. “I’ll pick him up and hand him to you. You hold him for a minute, then hand him back to me. Do not hand him off without giving him back to me first. Got it?”
A few murmured “Checks” went around the circle, and then Geo bent his knees and picked up Bosch, one arm under his chest and the other under his hindquarters. He approached the first man in line, a short, muscular Black guy.
“This is Bosch. What’s your name?”
“Aaron.” With a confident grin, Aaron took Bosch from him, held him for a minute, then passed him back to Geo.
“What’s the purpose of the name shit?” a blond white man next to Aaron asked almost belligerently. He was one of the apprehensive ones.
“Introducing yourself is only polite. Plus, this is all to indicate to Bosch that I trust you, so he should, too. Your name?”
“Mullet.”
“Okay. Nicknames work, too. This is Bosch.”
Mullet took Bosch gingerly, screwed his nose up in distaste and immediately pivoted to hand him off to Matt, who raised his hands and backed away.
“Whoa. Way to follow directions there, asshole.”
“Take him. Take him.” He thrust Bosch at Matt, who had no choice but to take him or else Bosch would fall to the ground.
A few grunts and mutters of “Weak” went around the circle. Mullet wiped his hand over his forehead and glared at them.
“I had a bad experience with a dog as a kid, okay? Fuck all y’all.”
Geo took Bosch from an apologetic Matt, shooting him an “It’s okay” look.
“The point here isn’t to force you to like dogs,” he said evenly. “The point is to establish a trust reference. Out in the field, in the confusion and heat of the moment, now Bosch won’t go after you.” He couldn’t help but add, “In theory, anyway.”
More razzing as Mullet visibly paled. “Don’t need no fuckin’ K9 in our unit,” he muttered. “Fuck that dog.”
Geo approached the next man in line, a tall, freckled redhead.
“Hey, Bosch,” the guy said with a smile as he reached for him. “I’m Rhys.”
This time Geo almost dropped him. This was Rhys? Lani’s Rhys?
No, not hers. Her ex.
Geo studied Rhys covertly. Gah, the dude was gorgeous, with that red hair and those striking green eyes. A wholly unaccustomed, idiotic spurt of jealousy slithered through him. Stiffly, he reached for Bosch. “Okay, you’re done.”