Free Long Time Gone (Hell or High Water ) by SE Jakes Page B

anything, just put his hand over Prophet’s and waited.
    Finally, Prophet said, “I told you I didn’t think he was dead. I’ve never told anyone outside of my old team that, except for you and Cillian.” Tom couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the mention of Cillian. Prophet acknowledged it with a small shake of his head, but continued, “Right after I was released from the CIA’s custody and the base’s infirmary, I went AWOL. I basically disappeared.”
    “What did you find?”
    “I became the man I am today because of that,” he told Tom cryptically. “Everything I learned in those two years . . . they were things I never wanted to know. Things that made me better at my job. Things that fucked with my conscience more than I’ll ever tell anyone. I helped a lot of people along the way. Mal said it was like my walkabout, but without the peyote.” He shrugged. “Well, most of the time.”
    Tom crossed his arms and watched Prophet shift like a guilty teenager until he finally protested, “I was in pain. It was all natural.”
    “It explains so much. About you and Mal.”
    Prophet smirked at the sarcasm Tom had made fully evident in his tone. “You’re still jealous. It’s cute.”
    “Cute?”
    “ Decent sex ?” Prophet growled back and Tom grinned. “Glad you found it funny. Gonna wipe that smirk right off your face and have a great time doing it.”
    “Now you’re worried about the decent sex comment?”
    “Too horny when I first saw you. Don’t worry. You’ll pay.”
    Tom leaned in and bit Prophet’s neck again. “Looking forward to it.”

    An hour and several more spin cycles later, Prophet’s phone beeped as Tom was making coffee. He glanced over and saw Prophet texting, his fingers moving quickly.
    Prophet’s back was to him, but it wasn’t like he was trying to hide his phone. Tom put the coffee down in front of him and looked over Prophet’s shoulder.
    He tensed immediately when he saw Cillian’s name and a few joking lines between the men. Still, he managed to say calmly, “Tell that stupid fucking spook to stop flirting with you.”
    Prophet didn’t turn around, but his voice was serious when he said, “Didn’t realize we were exclusive.”
    “If we were, you wouldn’t flirt. Not like that.” Tom wasn’t able to take the tightness out of his voice.
    To his credit, Prophet put the phone down mid-text and shoved it away. “Still can’t tell if you really want me, or if you just want to make sure no one else can have me.”
    “It’s more complicated than that.”
    “Not, it’s not.” Prophet finally turned to look at him. “Fuck, I thought it was. Thought it should be. But it’s simple as hell. Scares the fuck out of me.”
    Tom reached out and ran a finger down Prophet’s shoulder—the one with the fresh scar. “Why’s that?”
    “Lot of reasons. Some you don’t know.”
    Tom gave up with the calm shit and threw his hands in the air. “More secrets? About Cillian?”
    “Why don’t you trust him?”
    “Why do you?” Tom shot back.
    “Never said I did, T. You assumed that. Sometimes, I’ve got to play a game.”
    “A flirting game? Because quite honestly, it didn’t all seem to be a game.”
    “It wasn’t,” Prophet admitted. “Started before I met you. And shit, T, you and I . . .”
    “I know.” Because there wasn’t supposed to be any Tom and Prophet. But here they were, four months later, unable to stop fucking each other. “Ten seconds in each other’s presence, we’re ripping each other’s clothes off.”
    “To be fair, you ripped more,” Prophet sniffed.
    “You loved it.”
    Tom was joking, but Prophet obviously wasn’t when he said, “Yeah, I did.”
    Before Tom could respond, Prophet held up a hand. “And we’ll deal with that after we survive this hurricane, remember?”
    “Such an amateur. Besides, we already broke that rule,” Tom reminded him as his own phone began to buzz. He glanced at his phone and