Had there ever been anyone she’d wanted to shake more than Damon?
The cat considered her from his perch on the counter.
“Maybe I should call you Damon,” she said to him and he jumped down elegantly, coming to twine around her ankles. He meowed and looked up at her, obviously hungry. “Except you have a lot more charm,” she acknowledged. “Especially when you want fish.”
Maybe she didn’t have anything left that Damon wanted enough to turn on his charm. Haley winced and headed for the kitchen to open a can of tuna for the cat.
It had snowed more during the night. There was about six inches of the white stuff on the ground and more falling. Damon zipped up his jacket and marched back to the house, knowing that the exercise would calm his mind.
It always did.
Exercise was one of the keys to his plan. Regular exercise. Healthy eating. Small, achievable goals. One step at a time. Lots of rest. It was all about routine, about controlling the little things so the big ones didn’t overwhelm.
That was how he’d ended up at the gym where he’d met Kyle.
Despite the vestiges of his nightmare, he was thinking about Haley’s words. She hadn’t been angry with him or accusatory. Her tone had been direct but not emotional. She challenged him and she wasn’t afraid of him, and the combination meant that he couldn’t dismiss what she’d said.
The nightmares had returned since his mom had become sick. He’d been without them for years and that made them seem worse. They were pretty much the same, though. And he guessed that it was powerlessness that brought them on, a lack of control, that sense of inevitability and his own impotence in the face of events.
Like that rolling grenade.
He’d never forget it.
He’d never forget that he’d been the one to remind Foster about R.O.E.
Buchanan had lost a hand.
Foster had died.
Not only was he responsible, but he was unscathed.
More or less.
It seemed wrong. He should have been the one to die or be maimed. He should have been the one to pay the price for following the rules.
The therapist had called it survivor’s guilt.
Damon trudged across the park, moving quickly. He had three private sessions in the weight room this morning, back to back, and knew he had to compose himself. Even though he hadn’t had much sleep, he had to make sure those clients got what they paid for. He was responsible. He fulfilled his obligations to F5F. That wasn’t going to change. He exhaled, doing the breathing exercises he’d been taught as a means of calming himself, and tried to focus.
He might have managed it if his phone hadn’t rung.
Instead he stood in the middle of the empty park, the snow falling silently around him, as the nurse in the oncology ward told him that his mom was gone.
Then he bowed his head and wept silently, feeling more alone than he ever had.
“Hello to those of you at the North Pole, or its closest equivalent,” Kyle said, his cheerful voice coming from the speakerphone.
“Let me guess,” Cassie said as she slid into her seat. “It’s sunny and warm in San Francisco.” A foot of snow had fallen in Manhattan over the weekend and the city was a mess. There had been power outages and transit delays, although things were returning to normal.
“Beautiful,” Kyle enthused. “Not too hot. Crisp wind off the ocean.” He paused. “No snow.”
“Go ahead,” Cassie said. “Rub it in.”
“I hate that stuff,” Kyle said. “Give me fog or even rain any day over the white junk.”
“Doesn’t the cool temperature cut into your surfing?” Cassie asked as Damon entered the conference room.
“Northern California is why God made wetsuits, Cassie.”
“He’s just frisky because he went surfing today,” Theo said, also on the speakerphone. “Kyle here thinks he’s becoming a Navy SEAL.”
Damon snorted. “I don’t think so,” he muttered under his breath, but the guys in California obviously didn’t hear him. He pulled out a pad of paper and tapped his pen on it. “Are we having a meeting or what?”
What was his deal? Cassie knew that Damon’s expression was more inscrutable than usual and it wasn’t like him to be grumpy. When did she last see him crack a smile? It had been too long. Was he that annoyed that Ty had made him work the previous Friday night? He’d certainly been in a mood since the weekend. Cassie had been relieved to have a Friday night to herself but was torn between feeling that Damon should have taken his turn sooner and her sense that something was wrong.
“Hey, has that tattoo done its magic yet?” Kyle demanded.
“Not so much as a nibble,” Cassie had to admit.
“Early days yet,” Kyle said, his tone encouraging. “It’ll happen.”
Cassie wasn’t so sure.
Ty came striding into the meeting, looking as delicious as ever. Cassie did love a man in a suit. She’d been crazy for this one for a long, long time, but Ty was off-limits now. Was that the problem? She’d already found the love of her life but he’d married someone else?
“Sorry to be late,” Ty said, taking his place and opening his briefcase. “Do we have an agenda?”
“Not officially,” Cassie said and he smiled at her. Her stupid heart went thump but she kept her expression bland.
“No problem. I’d like to talk about adding to the team,” Ty said. “We’re really stretched thin and Cassie’s done too many night shifts. I’m going to suggest that we hire one or maybe two people to manage the dance club.”
“You’re delegating my baby!” Kyle complained.
“Only after you abandoned it,” Cassie countered.
“And of course, Damon isn’t going to give up his Friday nights with Natasha,” Kyle said.
Damon frowned but didn’t reply.
“He did last Friday,” Cassie contributed.
“Only with encouragement,” Ty added.
“And what did Natasha think of that?” Kyle asked brightly. “Has she pined away from neglect after surviving one Friday night without your loving touch?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Damon growled, biting off each word.
Cassie exchanged a glance with Ty. That was the closest she’d ever heard Damon come to losing his temper.
“Excuse me?” Kyle said. “Are you getting hostile with me, bro?”
“I’m telling you to mind your own business,” Damon snapped. He stood up and marched out of the room. “Decide whatever you want,” he said from the doorway. “I’m gone.”
“Whoa!” Ty said, lifting his hands.
“What was that?” Kyle and Theo demanded in unison.
“The sound of you pushing your luck a little too far,” Ty said and started to stand up.
“Me?” Kyle protested. “I was just razzing him a bit...”
“Let me,” Cassie said, touching Ty’s shoulder so he stayed put while she went after Damon.
“Good idea,” Ty murmured with a nod. “He wouldn’t talk to me.”
So, she wasn’t alone in thinking that there was something wrong. Cassie wasn’t going to make any conclusions about her and Ty thinking the same way. He was married.