Free Under Fire by Jo Davis Page B

pockets of his regulation trousers, electing not to waste time mincing words. “Knight. All the shit I said the other day, I was wrong.” His mouth tightened. “Can you forgive me for being such a fuckhead?”
    In spite of himself, Zack choked a hoarse laugh. “You could’ve just said it with Hallmark. Sir.”
    One corner of Tanner’s lips tugged upward. A thin crack in the veneer. “Didn’t get by the store this week.”
    Zack let the silence stretch for a minute, and considered his next words carefully. Holding the captain’s gaze, he continued. “Forgive, sure. Forget? That’ll take a while.”
    “You want your pound of flesh, I won’t fight you. I’ll get written up or suspended, maybe both.”
    “And what would that solve?” If Tanner got suspended, he’d go home and drink himself to death. Maybe he even wanted to. No way would Zack be a party to a good man’s destruction simply to assuage his hurt feelings.
    “Probably nothing, but it’s your call. I’m not asking for leniency just because I’m apologizing.”
    “Are you? Apologizing, I mean.”
    “Yes. I’m sorry, Zack. More than you’ll ever know.” His voice was rife with sincere regret.
    Zack was only human. The part of him that was still hurt and humiliated by their run-in wanted retribution, no matter how messy. The more insistent part of him wanted the team to regain its cohesiveness. These guys were his brothers, his only family.
    Destroying Tanner would finish them as a team.
    Hadn’t the captain— all of them—been through enough?
    “I accept, and I recommend we put this behind us,” Zack said quietly. For one second, he could’ve sworn Tanner swayed on his feet.
    “Thank you.” He stepped closer, gripped Zack on the shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I’m goddamned glad you’re all right.”
    Zack managed a smile. “Me, too, Cap.”
    “I’ll come by again soon and we’ll talk. Get some rest.”
    It wasn’t until after Tanner left that Zack realized the captain had never addressed the touchy issue of appointing Salvatore as acting FAO.
    And whether Zack would ever recover the position.
    A noise jangled near his head, startling a curse from his lips. Why did hospital phones need to be set loud enough to make a person’s brain bleed? Groaning, he rolled to his side and reached for the receiver with his free hand—the one without the IV—and brought it to his ear.
    “Hello?”
    “Mr. Knight. Back from the dead, are you?”
    The clipped, cultured voice, dripping with feigned cordiality, curdled his bone marrow.
    Oh, God. Not Delacruz. Not now. “How did you know where to find me?” No need to ask why the man had bothered. At least the rusty croak from his illness masked the fear and strain behind the question.
    “With a minimum of difficulty. Your landlady seemed to think something horrid must’ve befallen you, and there you are.”
    His landlady! Dammit, he’d forgotten that his rent was long overdue. And now, as far as she was concerned, Zack had gone AWOL. Shit!
    Delacruz chuckled as he went on. “And I’d thought perhaps you were avoiding me by not answering your cell phone.”
    The bastard’s smug tone grated. “Considering the damned thing is sitting on the bottom of the Cumberland River? No. Besides, if I want you to fuck off, I’ll tell you straight up. Like now, for instance.”
    “That’s what I admire about you,” Delacruz said smoothly. “Such indomitable spirit. I like you, Zack.”
    “You don’t like anything but money. Which, FYI, I don’t fucking have any more of.”
    “Oh, where there’s a will and all that.” He paused. “I assume your old man is resting comfortably in the nursing home?”
    The veiled threat shredded Zack’s forced calm, fired his anger. Darius Knight had been a lousy father in his day, a selfish motherfucker, but was now just a pitiful shell of a man. His father deserved to face his debts, the trouble he’d caused. He did not deserve to be murdered for