First it had shown Carrie I was a liar. Then the call last night…

Nothing was definite yet. Nothing at all. But when you got a mysterious phone call from your commanding officer on a Sunday night…well, you could put two and two together pretty easily. In this fucked-up world, someone was always a finger push away from starting a war with someone. And who were the first ones sent in?

Marines. Always the Marines.

But some small, stupid part of me couldn’t help but hope the call was nothing more than a red herring. God had a twisted sense of humor like that, didn’t He? It seemed like something He would do. Give me the sun and the moon, and then pretend like he was going to snatch away the sun. Then, at the last second, he’d laugh and be all, “Ha! I got you, didn’t I?”

I shook my head at myself. Was I seriously having a fake fucking conversation with God in my head? I was losing it. Losing my mind. I needed to look at this rationally.

Maybe the military thought there would be another attack in Egypt or something and were readying troops just in case. There were a hell of a lot of just in case situations in the military. It didn’t have to mean something.

The possible threat could fail to come to fruition. Then I’d get to stay with Carrie.

It’s not that I was scared to go fight for my country. I wasn’t. But I was scared of how Carrie would handle the news of me going. That’s not to say I didn’t think she was strong enough to handle it, because she was. She just worried about me.

I flipped the egg and popped some bread into the toaster. As I waited, I eyed my phone and replayed the message in my head. Screw this. I needed to hear it again. I picked it up and hit play.

“Sergeant Coram, this is C.O. Gunnerson. Report for duty at Pendleton Saturday morning at oh-eight-hundred, and be advised there will be news regarding a possible deployment for you in the near future.”

The commanding officer’s gravelly voice rang in my head, making me want to throw the phone across the room. But, instead, I slammed it down on the countertop, my heart thumping loudly. Yeah. That didn’t sound good at all.

I shouldn’t be surprised. This was a pattern in my life. The second things started to look up for me, shit always blew up in my face. Like the time I’d gotten the job of my dreams, only to learn it would require me to travel out of the country for ten months of the year. Or the time I’d gotten my Harley, and then an asshole in a pickup truck smashed it into pieces.

This certainly wasn’t the first time I’d gone through this type of thing, and it wouldn’t be the last.

The toast popped and I set it down on the Saran Wrap. After putting the rest of her sandwich together, I poured her a to-go mug of coffee and waited at the door. She came charging out of the bathroom with jeans and my t-shirt on; her hair in a sloppy ponytail. Hot damn, I didn’t want to let her walk out the door.

But I knew I had to.

She grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and came my way. “You giving me a ride?”

I raised a brow. “Can you eat and drink coffee on a bike?”

“No.”

“Then no.” I kissed her quickly, not wanting to hold her up even more, and handed her the coffee. Her fingers brushed against mine, and I wanted to capture them and hold them close to my chest. Right above my heart. “I called you a cab, and it’s out there waiting for you.”

She grinned at me, her warm eyes shining up at me. “Thanks, love.”

“Love?” I scratched my head. “That’s new.”

She shrugged and took the sandwich from me. “I’m trying it on for size. You have so many nicknames for me, it’s only fair I think of one for you.”

“Hm.” I patted her on the ass, the universal signal to get going. “Well, Ginger, I’ll pick you up after class. Five, right?”

“Yes.” Her cheeks flushed, and her gaze dipped to my mouth. “I have to study afterward with a friend, so make it six?”

“Which friend?”

“A new one you don’t know.” She kissed me. “A girl. She’s majoring in biology, too, with the end goal of occupational therapy. Just like me.”

“Ah. I suppose I’ll share then.” I slapped her ass gently. “Off you go.”

Her eyes darkened. “Do I have to go?”

“You know you do. If your grades fail, then I do, too.”

She huffed. “I had to go and fall for the guy whose job it is to make sure I don’t fail, didn’t I?”

“Don’t look so sad. If you hurry up and get to class—and behave yourself all day—maybe I’ll help you study again.”

She perked up at that. “Deal.”

I pulled her in for one last kiss. “I love you, Ginger.”

“I love you, too.”

I watched her climb down the stairs and make her way toward the yellow taxi. She took a sip of her coffee and slid into the cab, her eyes on me as she pulled away. Once she was out of sight, I sighed and went back inside. As I made myself a sandwich and brewed another cup of coffee, I picked up my phone and unlocked it.

Two texts already.

Ever since I got sent here to guard her—babysit her, more like—I’d been on a daily text routine with her fucking father. He was like a needy teenager in some ways. If I didn’t immediately text him first thing in the morning, I got at least three texts before I could finish my coffee. The funny thing was she didn’t even need watching.

Well, maybe she did a little bit.

Only because she’d gone and fallen in love with me, despite my initial lies about my real identity and the fact I was her father’s lackey sent to spy on her. But no one was going to take her from me—not even her dad. I needed her too badly.

She reported to class on time.

Barely thirty seconds passed before the phone buzzed again. Good. Check on her after and make sure you actually text me back.

I snorted. Will do, sir.

After I sent the text, I spun the phone in my hand, debating my next move. Maybe I should call Dad and see what he thought was up. He’d been in the military long enough to get how things ran. I could practically hear his voice now. He’d say something along the lines of, “Griffin, you know what this is as well as I do. You’re going to war, son.”

Maybe I would check in with one of my squad members. See if they knew something I didn’t. After flipping my egg in the nick of time, I dialed my buddy Hernandez.

“Hello?” Hernandez said, his voice rough.

“Hey. It’s Coram.”

Hernandez set something down. Maybe his coffee mug? “What’s up, man?”

“Did you get a call last night?”

“From who?”

I leaned against the counter. “Our C.O.?”

“Um, no.” Hernandez cleared his throat. “Should I have? What’s going on?”

“Shit, I don’t know. I thought…” I rubbed my forehead, but it did nothing to take away the ache between my eyes. “Fuck me.”

“No thanks,” Hernandez said. “You’re not my type.”

I snorted. “The hell I’m not.”

“Yeah…no. I prefer blondes. But why would he call you and not me?”

I shook my head. “I got a call from him that I have to show up this weekend. But if I’m the only one, what the fuck does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” I heard a door shut. “I hung out with Smith last night, and he didn’t mention it either. So I don’t know, man.”

So two people hadn’t gotten the call, but I had? What the fuck did that mean? It didn’t make any sense. “All right. Thanks, man.”

“Do you think they—?” A muffled knock sounded through the phone. “Shit. I gotta go, Coram. I’ll call you later.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

I hung up the phone and set it down, my head hurting even more now. So I wasn’t being deployed with my unit, but I might be deploying soon?

None of this made any sense, damn it.