Free Backwoods by sara12356

shadows just beyond the spill of yellow glow coming
from the rec room doorway. His plan was simple: slip past the room
unnoticed, then cross the foyer, head upstairs and dart into his
room with no one the wiser. And it was a good plan, too, one that
probably would have went off without a hitch had Corporal O’Malley
not walked out of the rec room just as Andrew crept past.
    “Hey, Mister Braddock,” he called with a
broad grin, entirely too loud and cheerful.
    “It’s just Andrew,” Andrew replied with a
cringe, glancing nervously past O’Malley’s shoulder toward the
interior of the rec room.
    “You know how to play eight-ball,
Just-Andrew?” O’Malley asked, still with that goofy-looking
half-cocked grin on his face. “You know, pool.”
    “Sure,” Andrew said, at a loss, wanting
desperately to escape.
    “Great,” O’Malley exclaimed, hooking Andrew
by the arm as he turned to call back into the rec room. “Hey,
Danny! Looks like the game’s back on. I found you a new
partner.”
    “What?” Andrew blinked, then shook his head
even as O’Malley dragged him across the threshold. “Hold on. No. I
didn’t—”
    His protest cut short once inside the rec
room, where he faced twin pool tables, one of which stood
conspicuously vacant. Several soldiers had gathered around the
other, most out of uniform and in the T-shirts, sweatpants or
jogging shorts worn for physical training.
    Not Danny, Andrew realized in
surprise. He hadn’t pictured Santoro in his mind as someone who
went by Dani.
    Wow, he thought.
    He hadn’t recognized her at first. Her hair,
normally up in a ponytail or bun, hung down to her shoulders in
loose, dark waves. Her grey T-shirt hugged the trim curves of her
torso, the emblazoned ARMY lettering standing out against
the slight swells of her breasts. Her black shorts revealed tanned,
toned legs, generous hips and a slender waist beneath.
    Wow, he thought again.
    “Good news.” O’Malley slapped Andrew heavily
on the shoulder that left him stumbling forward. “Just-Andrew here
said he’d partner up with you.”
    “Great,” Dani said, although the look on her
face suggested she thought it was anything but.
    When Andrew tried to sputter in protest,
O’Malley leaned close, speaking into his ear. “Look, this is really
important—the grand championship finals between the E-3s and E-4s.
Me and Dani, we’ve worked our asses off these past few weeks to get
to this round, only to find out my squad’s got maneuvers tonight. I
can’t hang or I would. It’s just two more games. You two smoke
them.” He nodded to indicate two of the soldiers standing near the
pool table. “Then those two.” Another nod. “That’s it.”
    “But I—” Andrew began, shooting a pleading
look at Santoro.
    O’Malley clapped his shoulder again.
“Consider this your chance to be military material. A gift from me
to you.”
    “Great,” Andrew said. Some fucking
gift.
    “Thanks.” To Dani, O’Malley leaned forward,
holding out his fist. When she did the same, he knocked his
knuckles into hers. “Kick some PFC ass for me.”

CHAPTER TEN
    “PVC?” Andrew asked as Santoro led him back
to the pool table.
    “ PFC,” she corrected. “Stands for
Private First Class. They’re E-3s, ranked beneath E-4s like me and
O’Malley.”
    “Oh.” Feeling uncomfortable and intrusive,
Andrew stood somewhat behind her as she offered introductions. He
wanted to say something to her, apologize for being such a dickhead
earlier when she’d brought back his photograph of Beth, but she
wouldn’t give him the chance.
    “This is Greg Taylor and Nick Jones.” She
pointed to the pair closest to the table, who each leaned against
the pool cues they held and awarded Andrew affable nods. “We’re
playing them first. Then if we win, we’re up against Tweedledee and
Tweedledum over there, Matt LaFollette and Mike Turner.”
    She flapped her hand at the other two
soldiers. One of them gave him a short, curt wave, while