Love in the Line of Fire by Michael Murphy

Author:Michael Murphy [Murphy, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-63533-207-0
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2017-01-23T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

THEIR CUDDLE that morphed into a nap ended abruptly when Jonah’s cell phone rang. His ringtone was very loud and shrill and brought them both from a mellow mood to full consciousness immediately, hearts pounding from the surprise.

Jonah grabbed the offending instrument and accepted the call. “Yeah?” He listened to someone speaking for a few seconds. “When?” He nodded about something he was hearing before asking, “Where?” Whatever else was said was brief. As soon as he disconnected the call, Jonah rose from the sofa, looking fuckably good, all naked and rumpled.

“Where did I put my underwear?” he asked.

“Um,” Benji said, quickly glancing around the room. “Over there,” he said, pointing across the room. “Why do you need your underwear?”

“I’ve got to go. I’ve been called in.”

“Everything okay?” Benji asked.

“Probably,” Jonah said, not elaborating.

Benji wasn’t as awake as Jonah, so he found the speed with which Jonah was collecting his clothes and re-dressing to be almost inhuman. Before Benji could believe it, Jonah was dressed and headed out the door.

While Jonah had to go to work, Benji didn’t, so he lay back down and in a few minutes was sound asleep once again—the first idea in his mind for a rainy, nasty afternoon. Benji’s rest didn’t last for long, though.

His apartment was in the back of his building, with a beautiful view of an alley. Whether due to the rain or some other condition, that afternoon when a truck drove into the alley to replace the full dumpster, something happened and the new dumpster fell, causing a loud, violent crash as it hit the ground. The sound was like a bomb exploding. From a deep sleep, Benji heard it and immediately flashed back to Iraq. He was suddenly awake, back in Iraq, and convinced his truck had just set off a roadside bomb that destroyed their convoy.

Naked and suddenly covered with a layer of sweat, Benji crouched low to the floor, pupils dilated, eyes going first left, then right, then left again, never slowing down, never stopping. He knew he was in danger. He had to identify the danger so he could save his men. But fuck! He couldn’t find the goddamned danger! Where had the bomb gone off? Why couldn’t he find it? Men’s lives were hanging in the balance. He was responsible for those lives. It wasn’t an option—he had to find where the bomb had gone off. Why couldn’t he find it? He had such a sixth sense about these things. Why did his abilities fail him now when he needed them the most?

But it didn’t matter where he looked. Nothing made sense. His mind had a crystal-clear image of the scene where the bomb had gone off. But the scene his eyes were taking in didn’t mesh. His mind tried to overlay the two images, one on top of the other, in an effort to make them work, but that didn’t help. All that succeeded in doing was making him even more confused and frustrated.

Every particle of adrenaline his body could possibly produce had been pumped into his bloodstream.

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