Chapter 5

Twelve years earlier

December in the desert meant rain. Blessed, cooling, churn-up-the-earth rain. Mud caked Seth’s boots, sucking at them like the ground wanted to claim him several decades too early. Next to him, Quint was quiet after their shift. A bloody day—one of the bloodiest they’d seen since arriving a year ago, almost to the day.

“You all right, smiley?” Careful not to walk too close to Quint, Seth reached out with his words.

Quint nodded. Then shook his head, glancing back over his shoulder as he slowed his pace, wiping a hand over his face. “What if we called it too soon? A few more minutes and we might be able to save her. This doesn’t...doesn’t feel right.”

Taking a long breath, Seth let the rain drip off his nose and down his cheeks, feeling it in place of the tears he’d long since stopped shedding at each soldier’s passing. Too damned young. Such beautiful, strong bodies wrecked. Unrecognizable. Some days their job felt more Sweeney Todd than surgeon.

“And she would have lived a life with no memories. Just a body. A shell. With nothing behind those green eyes.” A Jeep roared by, kicking up brown flecks that pelted his and Quint’s faces. “You want that for her and her family?”

Head tipped back, Quint let the rain wash away the mud. “No. But I hoped… I don’t know what I hoped for, the diagnosis was obvious. I was talking to her just the other day in the mess hall. She...she showed me some pictures of her bridemaid’s dress for her sister’s wedding.” He let out a broken laugh. “She hated it so much—she was excited, though. A few days and she was going on leave. It’s not fucking fair.”

No, it wasn’t. But breaking ourselves won’t save lives.

“You know why we can’t dwell, but this one, yeah.” Seth passed his hand down his face, squeegeeing the rain from his skin. “What say you we get clean and go meet McCleod. We’ll raise a glass to her.”

“I’d like that.” Quint slid him a hesitant smile. “Don’t...tell him I let another one get to me, though? He’ll either get pissed or put me up for eval. I need to be here. I need to do the job. I can, it just...sticks with me. But I don’t let it keep me from doing what I have to do, I swear.”

In the shower tent, the rain pelted against the canvas, but was quickly drowned out as he and Quint stripped down and made the best of their two minutes, getting the gore from under fingernails that never felt clean despite the gloves after a day like this. Sand came out of cracks in skin washed and disinfected to a point of dryness that was a torture all its own.

Water shut off, Seth shook the drops from his face, then pulled on his clothes over still wet skin. It wasn’t like he was going to magically find an umbrella and prance with it across the quad to his CO.’s tent with Quint.

Bent over to tie his bootlace, Seth lifted his head. “Hey, smiley?”

“Yes, sir?” Quint lowered the towel he’d been rubbing over his hair once he was fully dressed, puffing up the short strands that had darkened with the damp.

“Don’t worry about McCleod. The way that man looks at you…” Seth didn’t know much about their relationship, but it was obvious their CO. had feelings for Quint. Which were returned, though things weren’t exclusive or Seth wouldn’t be in the picture. He let out a rueful laugh. “Not that I can blame him. That smile of yours should be classified as a weapon.”

Quint grinned at him, shoving his feet in his boots while tossing his towel on top of the pile of used ones before stepping back out into the rain. Within seconds, the soft brown strands of his hair were weighed down again, long enough in front to touch his brow, though the back and sides were neatly trimmed to regulation. He hummed to himself, nodding to several soldiers as they passed, stopping a couple of times to exchange a friendly word or look at a picture of someone’s new baby. Or puppy. Or some random thing a man or woman decided they needed to share with him.

Knowing the interactions calmed him, Seth didn’t rib him. This time.

Much.

“I swear, you need to move to small town America and become a postal service worker.” Seth pointed to Jared’s tent. “His sign is flipped. He’s already at our place.”

Lips curved, Quint quickened his pace. “That’s good. He’ll be in a better mood than if we were invading his inner sanctum. We should play some poker—I have a new pack of cards we can use. Rogers got three in his last care-pack and gave me one. Along with all the chocolate with nuts. He can’t stand them, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell his wife.”

“How could his wife not know that? Did he mail order one? The wife. Not the chocolate.” Entering their tent just behind Quint, Seth tried to shake off the water dripping from his eyebrows. “Damn. I’m wetter than I was in the fucking shower.”

At the round card table he and Quint had scavenged from one of the bombed out buildings a few sites ago, Jared glanced up from his new smartphone, a cigar already clamped between his teeth, unlit. “I don’t know why you didn’t just strip down outside the surgical tent and run through the rain.”

Quint’s smile widened. “Is that allowed? It would definitely save some time.”

Pale blue eyes running warmly over Quint, Jared grunted. “I’ve seen it done. Try it sometime. I’ll decide then what to do to you.”

Seth smirked, nudging his chin up to indicate a long-necked bottle in the middle of the table. “Looks like you brought the party favors, sir.”

“That last bit…” Taking the cigar from his lips, Jared set it carefully on the table. “You can save for work. Last thing I want to be is your Dom. You’re a giant pain in the ass.”

Over at the end of his cot, Quint crouched down, opening a small container and coming out with the pack of cards and a few treats, including the chocolate bars he’d mentioned. He brought his offerings over, setting them in front of Jared. “I thought we might play a game, sir. It wouldn’t cost anything, the rules are...different.”

“We’ll have to empty the bottle before we spin it, smiley.” Displaying a rare grin, Jared ran blunt fingertips over his inky crewcut.

Sitting on his cot, rumpling the gray wool blanket, Seth shucked his boots and socks. “He wants to play poker.”

“Oh?” Stocky shoulders straightening, Jared sat forward with interest. “I assume the objective isn’t to see me naked. Unless you’ve been looking the other way in the showers.”

Well, that answers the question on whether or not smiley and cranky have fucked.

“He hasn’t, sir.” Quint tapped the cards out of the box into his palm, his smile slanting playfully as he looked over at Seth. “He’s good at not making it too obvious, but I tend to notice these things.”

Hands stilling at his waist, Seth narrowed his gaze at Quint. “Cheeky brat.”

The nickname he usually only called Quint in private moments slipped out, and Seth felt Jared’s gaze land on him with a different kind of interest. An electric tension layered on top of the moist air, Seth forcing himself to turn away as he dressed in dry tan sweats, getting comfortable for the evening.

Still standing by the table, Quint chatted as he shed his own layers, tossing each piece he took off toward his bunk until he wore only a slightly damp white tank and boxers, both still fresh from dressing after the shower. “Parker’s dad bought him that car he’s been drooling over. I think it’s going to work this time. He won’t re-up. Stay stateside to join the family business. It won’t be the same without him, but he’ll be happier.”

Reaching over to snag the shot glasses from the top of his trunk, Seth glanced over his shoulder at Jared to see if he knew who the man was. “Who’s Parker? I swear, smiley, you’d know the names of every person in every village we passed through if we let you stop.”

“Of course. How else would I get to know them?” Quint plunked down on the chair to Jared’s left. “Sargeant Parker’s the one who runs the mess. He always brings something special back when he heads out for supply runs. He helped me get those caramels for your birthday, sir.”

“Ah, yes, the soldier who keeps coming in with burns in the oddest places.” Jared poured them each a shot.

“Define odd.” Taking the seat to Quint’s left, Seth curled his fingers against the temptation to run his fingers through Quint’s hair.

“Let’s just say I never expected to get that close to a man’s junk to make sure his balls would recover from close contact with a frying pan.” Jared lifted the cigar to light it as if he hadn’t just delivered sympathy pains to both Seth and Quint.

Thighs clenched, Seth shook his head. “I’m sorry I asked.”

Smoke left Jared’s lips with his soft laugh.

Sitting at the very edge of his seat as though excited to get started, Quint began dealing out the cards. “Just so we’re clear on the rules, there’s no cash exchange. Only truth. The winner asks whatever they want and the lowest hand has to answer honestly. No half-answers or evasions or it defeats the purpose.” He tipped his shot glass up in cheers before tossing it back. “Mm, that’s damn good, sir. Thank you.”

Blue smoke curled from the cigar, Jared’s beautifully peaked lips working the tip in a way that always had Seth staring. This time, when he tore his gaze away, both Quint and Jared were watching him.

Looking at Quint with a knowing smile, Jared handed the cigar over to Seth. “Smoke?”

Seth took the cigar, Jared holding onto it for a fraction longer than it took Seth to tug it away. A power play. A challenge. Bringing the cigar to his lips, Seth took a few experimental puffs, tasting the mint of Jared’s toothpaste that underlay the tobacco’s sweet richness. Handing it back, he nodded his thanks, playing with the smoke in little rings that he snapped at with his teeth.

“Don’t know if I like this whole ‘truth’ thing, but since I’m going to win, I won’t worry about it.” Sitting back, Jared took up his cards, his gaze sliding sideways to Quint. “And you know you’d tell either one of us anything we wanted to know.”

Quint picked up his own cards, inclining his head with an overly bright smile. “I would, sir, but this is more fun. And it’ll be better than when I played with the other recruits. There were some subjects I had to avoid, for obvious reasons.”

“And you need the distraction now because of the soldier who coded on your table. Don’t put on a brave face for me.” Jared set down his cards and poured another round. Lifting his glass, he studied the amber liquid, then raised it. “To the ones we lost.”

Sobering, Quint mirrored Jared’s gesture. “And their loved ones back home.”

“Amen.” Seth tossed back his shot, and Jared quickly refilled it.

“Ask me.” Meeting Quint’s stare, Jared sipped his shot. “We’ve had our hands side by side, holding soldiers together with our fists. You don’t have to play games to find things out about me, smiley. I’ll tell you. Whatever you want to know.”

With a blink a thousands thoughts seemed to play over Quint’s face before he lowered his gaze to his cards. “I know, sir. This was...just a way to enjoy our time together. If you’re not comfortable with it, I understand.”

“All right.” Jared picked up his cigar and his cards again. “Five-card draw? Aces high? Make it simple?”

“Yes, sir.” Quint flashed Jared a brilliant smile. “Thank you.”

“You first, Bizzy.” Jared nudged his chin at Seth. “He’s going to kill us both. I can never read what’s behind that damned grin.”

“Pure Machiavellian style world domination.” Fingering his cards, Seth winked at Quint, enjoying the way his skin had taken on a near permanent pink glow under all the attention. “I’ll hold. And I’ll answer a question about what I thought of you both the first time I saw you if I lose.” He frowned. “Is that how this works in terms of the bets?”

The edges of Quint’s lips twitched. “I think it’s fair for you both to make the rules, sir. It’s a made-up game, in any case, so there’s nothing hard and fast.”

If he’d been drinking, Seth would have spat. Instead, he coughed, studying his hand.

Jared harrumphed and blew smoke at the sand-colored canvas ceiling. “I think that works. I’ll answer the same question...and raise something about my past. But don’t count on it, because you’re not going to win, Bizzy.”

“I’m open to anything. But you know that.” Quint’s tone held a hint of mischief as he placed his cards face-down on the table. He gave Jared an inquisitive look as he palmed the deck. “How many, sir?”

“One.” Starting the discard pile, Jared squinted through the smoke at Quint like he thought it might help him see past the man’s inscrutable smile.

Quint dealt him his card, then turned the same look on Seth.

“Wait. Isn’t it your turn to offer up a vein?” Seth frowned at him.

“Sir?” Quint’s brow creased slightly. “It’s safe to assume I’m always all in. I’ll give you as much as you want.”

“Which tells me nothing about your hand, but all right.” Clearing his throat, Seth drummed his fingertips on the table. Jared was bluffing. No fucking way would he offer to answer a question like that unless it was to throw Seth off his scent. Nodding to himself, he put his cards down. “I’m good.”

Taking four new cards for himself, Quint sat back, looking just as unfazed as he had with what apparently had been a terrible hand.

Seth couldn’t help himself. He snorted. “You’re in the wrong business. You need to do covert ops or some shit, smiley. They’d never see you coming.”

“Thank you, sir.” Quint practically glowed at the compliment. “I’m enjoying myself, so it’s easy not to let the cards bother me either way.”

Outside, the wind had picked up in a way that made the hum of the camp generators a warm comfort. Canvas cracked sharply, billowing inward.

“I could always order you both to lose.” Humor glinted in Jared’s gaze, his dark lashes lifting as he studied Quint’s face, never looking Seth’s way. Making it clear who he was interested in. Who he wanted.

Who we both want.

Challenge in his smile now, Quint folded his cards with his hands against his chest, relaxing into his seat. “You could, sir. But what fun would that be? You clearly have the better odds in your favor.”

“Bullshit.” Seth laughed through the word. “He’s bluffing. Hoping we’d both fold.”

“You calling me a liar, Bizzy?” Sliding his attention to Seth, Jared tipped his chair back, hands folded over fabric that somehow looked as crisp as it had when he’d arrived for duty that morning

Seth widened his grin. “In this game, it’s called ‘bluffing’, but, yes.”

Cigar between his fingertips, Jared twirled it, the end a circle of gray ash. “Pour us another drink, Quint.”

“Yes, sir.” Quint placed his cards on the table facedown, then reached for the bottle and the shot glasses. He filled all three, then set them in front of Jared and Seth before taking his own. There was an eagerness to his smile now, like he couldn’t wait to see who’d come out on top and either outcome would be enjoyable.

Slowly laying his cards face up on the table, Seth fanned them out with a quiet snap. The Jacks in his full house winked up at him. He sat back, not lifting his shot glass, his fingers twitching in his lap. Though he’d learned to control the energy humming through his limbs while under Jared’s watchful eye, it still buzzed and hummed through him like his own private power station.

“Well.” Blinking, Jared placed his three-of-a-kind—three aces—face up on the table. “Looks like you won, Bizzy.”

Chuckling, Quint flipped his cards over. “Did he, sir? It’s been a while. I think a straight flush might beat a full house, but I wouldn’t dare correct you.”

“I’m shuffling next time…” Jared, glass lifted to his lips, shook his head. “Did you even shuffle? I was too busy looking at your grin to notice, my boy.”

Seth blinked.

Oh, fuck.

If Jared had already laid a claim…

Going against your CO. is a good way to get your career sidelined, Bizenhofer.

Shifting to ease the freefall of discomfort in his middle, Seth cleared his throat. “Congratulations, smiley. What were the questions?”

“Something personal...but I think since you both kept raising the stakes, it’s only fair if you both pay up, right, sir?” Quint gathered the cards, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth as he studied Seth’s face, some uncertainty in his eyes.

“What do you want to hear first?” Jared spun his shot glass in his fingertips, his attention back on Quint. Intent. Definitely staking a claim.

Quint drew in a measured breath. “Something from your past, sir. Something no one else knows. It… We…” He rubbed his hand over his mouth. “We’d both like to know more about you. With the work we do...it’s already brought us closer. This would be...something else we can share.”

“And it doesn’t leave this room?” The mellow light of the tent’s free-hanging bulb cast shadows from Jared’s square jaw to the column of his pale neck as he opened the top few buttons of his shirt.

“No, sir. Not a word of it. I’ll take it to the grave.” Quint drew a cross in the air over his chest.

“Same.” Though he didn’t repeat Quint’s quaint gesture, Seth raised his glass in salute, then took a sip of the whiskey’s golden fire.

“All right.” Lacing his hands behind his head, Jared closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling deeply. Once. His lips thinned, then curved, as memories clearly played across his features. “I have six brothers, but none of them are related to me. And a seventh who I consider…” Ice blue eyes opened. “Something more.”

Hands lowered, Jared took up his cigar, lighting it with a rough click of his lighter. It might have been a trick of the swaying light, but Seth could almost swear his fingers shook a little.

“I can’t say no one else knows this, but only that seventh is someone I still talk to, so you could say you’re the only ones who know now that I was given up for an adoption that never happened by parents who were fanatics. They considered my intelligence an abomination. Unnatural.” Staring at the end of his cigar, Jared seemed to turn his gaze inward. “I would die for that man...then a boy. He saved my life and showed me that there could be something loyal on this earth.” His attention dropped to the table. “Something that even in its imperfections could be perfect… He taught me I could be loved.”

Sitting forward on his seat, Quint reached out to lace his fingers with Jared’s, silent, as though absorbing the impact of what Jared had shared with them. When he finally spoke, his voice held a note of quiet respect and adoration. “He sounds like an amazing man, sir. I’m so grateful you have him. And that you felt safe trusting us with this.”

“What’s his name?” Somehow, knowing the identity of this paragon of virtue seemed important, especially if the revelation was going to lure Quint away from Seth’s arms and into Jared’s.

“Rhodey Leonov.” Jared tossed back the shot like it might wash the taste of the man from his tongue. He drew his hand back from the table, picking up the cards to shuffle them. “You were going to tell me and Quint what you thought of us the first time you saw us, Bizzy.”

Seth wiped suddenly damp hands on his sweats, the sand roughened cotton abrading his palms. “I thought you were two of the sexiest men I’d ever laid eyes on. And I thought you were a pain in the ass, sir.” Wincing at the use of the honorific, Seth shook his head. “I don’t mean it that way. I’m...a…”

“Dom?” Jared supplied, glance arch, the smooth skin around his eyes and mouth lining with his slight smile.

Blowing out a breath, Seth sat back heavily. “Yes.”

Hands back in his lap, Quint cast an uncertain look between them. “That’s...good, isn’t it? Seth would make a terrible sub, sir. But you work well together.”

“I thought you were on amphetamines.” Not taking his attention from Seth, Jared continued the game. “And I was going to have to test you for drugs because you never stopped moving. And you, Quint…” Jared gave him a long look, those eyes not seeming to miss a thing. “I didn’t think you’d last three weeks, never mind three months. You were scared of your own shadow and trying to protect everyone from theirs.” Seth opened his mouth to protest when he saw the hurt cross Quint’s face, but Jared held up a hand. “I’m glad I was wrong. On both counts.”

Moving on, pretending he’d fulfilled his part of the wager, would be easy, but Seth wouldn’t return Jared’s openness with anything less. He laced his fingers together and curved both hands around his empty shot glass. “I was in foster care as well. Several until I learned how to hide play the part of the perfect child. I haven’t kept in touch with my foster parents, I was tired of being fake. I don’t know who my biological parents are. My only connections are...here.”

“I’ve found the strongest bonds are between those we chose.” Jared put his hand over Seth, the warm touch a comfort Seth hadn’t expected.

Or known he needed so much.

Jared’s gaze shifted to Quint. “You’re right, my boy. We all work well together. But you’re hoping for more, yes?”

Quint wrapped the chain around his neck between his fingers, making his dog tags clink together as he appeared to choose his words, very carefully. “I’ve never felt this kind of connection with anyone. Having you both, guiding me the way you do, is what got me through the worst. But there’s a different level of control that feels...right. I want to give you that. To know, without a doubt, that you want it from me.”

“To give that to whom, Quint? Speak clearly. Nothing can be vague or unclear about this.” Praying he hadn’t misunderstood the implications in Quint’s admission, Seth kept his tone as level as possible. “Tell both of us what you want.”

Jared nodded his agreement. “Kneel and make your request, boy.”

“Yes, sir.” Quint rose from his chair, coming around the table to kneel between Seth and Jared. He clasped his hands behind his back, looking up at Jared, then Seth. “What I want is both of you, sir. I can’t choose between you. It would break my heart. You’re both too important to me.”

Leaning in, Seth tugged Quint’s dog tags from beneath his shirt, fingering them in the overhead light. There was life and death in these tags. First and last moments. A symbol that wasn’t lost on any of them. Running his thumb over the indentations in the metal, Seth met Quint’s eyes, drinking in the light there.

“You want to be our submissive? Our boy? Twenty-four-seven, no breaks. Belonging to both of us, equally?” Laying out the terms that would frame a relationship he’d never dared to hope he might have, Seth drew out his own dog tags, pulling the chain over his head.

“More than anything, sir.” Quint smiled at him. “If you’ll both have me, I’m yours.” His eyes sparkled with joy and humor. “I’m a greedy slut.”

Seth’s laugh mingled with Jared’s amused “Ha!”

Slipping Quint’s chain over his head, Seth undid its clasp to place his own second tag on the loop of metal, fingers drinking in the warmth of the metal, then handed the chain to Jared who did the same. Side-by-side, they stood before Quint, their hands brushing as they placed the chain over Quint’s head, their tags clinking and mingling.

“You’re our greedy slut.” Drawing Quint to his feet, Seth kissed those sweetly curved lips.

When Jared wrapped his arms around them both, his eyes met Seth’s as they made their own silent agreement. This man was theirs to love. To protect. Those tags were a symbol of not only a power exchange, but a promise.

One to be kept. At all costs.