I'm not surprised to see Harper in the command center when I arrive. I nod as I walk by then go to the barracks area my team usually occupies when we're in from a mission. After depositing my gear, I return to the center to check in and let my commander know we're back.

"Good mission?" Harper asks from her spot in front of a computer.

"Always."

"Your guys all right?"

"Yep."

I slide into the seat beside her, ignoring the looks of the night shift in the center. I look and smell like I've been in the field for two weeks. Harper is used to dealing with us, even if the others manning the intelligence and operations forward operating base tend to regard the secretive spec-ops guys like mythical animals.

"How long you in for this time?" she asks.

"Four days."

"Any plans while you're here?"

"None."

"Your team need anything?"

"Nope."

"Riley's right. You're different, Sawyer. Are you okay?"

I pause, realizing I've been responding on autopilot. I get in mission mode sometimes, too focused to pay attention to much else around me. Lately, I've felt stuck there, and Petr's words about me distancing myself too much from others returns to me. If Riley noticed and said something to Harper, it's got to be obvious to everyone.

Sitting back in the chair, I meet her brown gaze. Captain Jacobson is a gorgeous woman, strong, disciplined and smart.

"Been a long few months," I reply and draw a deep breath. "Thanks for the tip. I appreciate you watching our backs."

"It's my job," she says with a smile. "You're welcome."

I study her. I'm beat and have no clue what else I should be saying to prevent people from assuming something's wrong.

"If you ever need to talk, let me know."

Talk? What the fuck … Do they think I'm that bad?

"Yeah, thanks," I force myself to say.

"If you ever need anything else, let me know that, too. Sometimes it helps." She smiles. "Not looking for a relationship, just … you know. Stress relief."

I'm pretty sure she's not joking. Sex is officially forbidden in the war zone, though it doesn't stop a lot of people. I understand what she's saying. I've had a few situational flings with women like me who needed the release or companionship after so long away from home.

"Thanks," I reply. "You all must think I'm pretty bad off."

"We notice. But it's not just you. I lost one of the new kids yesterday. Nineteen, walked over an IED dropping off supplies. Spent the day picking up his pieces." Her gaze grows haunted, and her smile fades. "Makes you realize how quickly everything can end or change or whatever."




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