Free Hawk (The Quiet Professionals, Book 2) by Ronie Kendig

leave.
    Movement to the side turned them both in that direction.
    A woman in a hijab and a facial veil stood there, only her eyes—wide green eyes—visible.
    “Son of a biscuit.” Brian closed his eyes and groaned. “I think God is punishing me.”
    Eagle grinned. “More like calling your number. Finally.”
    “Then why are you smiling?”
    A bigger smile. “I can’t wait to see this. If I know you, you aren’t going down without a fight. I know what happened to a man who wrestled God.” He nodded and pointed to the camo-clad Bible. “Read that. Find some answers. I’ll be back.”
    With a heaving sigh, Brian pinched the bridge of his nose—and cringed at the prick of pain. A swirl of cinnamon and something else hit his nose—and he knew by his growling stomach that she stood before him. Could he just keep his eyes shut and she’d go away?
    “I…I heard.”
    Guess not. “Kind of hard to hear when you aren’t there.” Brian finally looked at her, glaring.
    She ducked. “I—I know. I… When the fight started, I got scared.”
    Those wide eyes. She shifted on her feet—nervous. Guilty.
    I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care
. A million more times and he might get it into his head. “And you rabbited.”
    Confusion skidded across her face for a second.
    “You made like a chicken. Left. Skedaddled. Fled.” Though he tried to put disgust in his words, he couldn’t. Not with the puppy eyes she was working on him. Ya know—the way a puppy does when he knows he’s messed up and eaten your autographed Nolan Ryan baseball. Yeah. That look.
    “I could not let anyone know I was there.”
    “And yet, here you are. If the captain or Falcon sees you—poof! Game over.” He cocked his head, ignoring the way that blue satiny hijab made her skin look smooth and soft. This would be a good time for her to say she just couldn’t stand for him to take the fall for her. Because she cares about him too much. It’d be all romantic and stuff. Right?
    “Did you tell them?”
    Brian snorted. He should’ve known better. Shook his head. He started to turn away but faced her again. “You do realize coming here risks your little secret?”
    She lowered her head more. “It’s why I wore the veil. And I…I didn’t use my name on the register.” Left shoulder pressed against her ear, she briefly met his gaze. “I just wanted—”
    “I know what you wanted.” Why had he ever promised he’d keep her secret? Now—now his career was flushed down the latrine with a hefty dose of antibacterial cleanser.
    “Did you tell them? You can’t tell them! You don’t understand what I risk—”
    Brian’s blood boiled. “I gave my word,” he bit out as he angled closer, ignoring the burn in his side.
    “Yes, but your career—if you don’t tell them—”
    “I. Gave. My. Word.” Brian’s nostrils flared. “To you. Do you understand? I don’t go back on that.”
    “No. Of course not.” She tilted her head, shielding her face as an officer walked past them. “I am sorry…but I’m just worried. If you tell them—”
    “Look. Maybe in your country a man’s word doesn’t mean anything—heck, we’ve got ANA shooting their friends, trainers, and allies in the back or blowing them to Kingdom Come. But me? I gave my word.”
    “You Americans are not all good.” Defiance lifted her chin again. “I’ve seen what you have promised and what you have done. They are not the same thing.”
    “Guess y’all taught us well.”
    “How your word means nothing when a president wants to shift attention or when he needs reelection. And maybe next time—”
    “Babe, there won’t be another time.” Brian gritted his teeth. “Because this—you and me—isn’t happening again. When you walk out that door, I’ll forget you exist. You’ll never hear from me again, especially not another promise. Just go back to your soldier boy and forget this happened. Or wait. Are you going to stab him in the back,