More Than Enough (More Than Series, Book 5) (50 page)

I open the app, my breath catching when I see who it’s from. “Dave?” I whisper.

“O’Brien?” Mom asks.

I nod slowly, focused on the screen. “He sent a video.”

“How?” Lucy asks.

I read the message out loud. “Hey Riley. It’s Mike. I just turned on Davey’s phone and saw that he never sent this to you. Thought you’d like it.”

“Play it,” Mom says.

“Okay.”

They gather around as I stare at the phone, wondering what it could possibly be. I’d spoken to Dave a little while he was there, but he’d never sent a video before.

“Hey, Banks,” Dave says behind the camera.

Dylan’s lying on a bed, his hands behind his head. It looks like they’re in a tent but there doesn’t seem to be anyone else in the room.

“What?” Dylan answers.

“What are you thinking about?

Dylan doesn’t respond.

Dave laughs. “Stupid question. Riley, right?”

“Always Riley.”

“You miss her?”

He moves one hand and rests it on his chest, never once looking over at Dave. “That’s another stupid question.”

“What do you miss most?”

For a long time, Dylan doesn’t answer. Finally, “Are you comfortable, Dave?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, with who you are… around your family and friends. Are you comfortable?”

Dave chuckles. “Have you fucking met me, man? If I wasn’t comfortable with myself, you think I’d be this much of an idiot? I don’t give a fuck what people think. I am who I am.”

“You are who you are,” Dylan mumbles.

“So what’s up? Why are you thinking about it?”

“I don’t know,” Dylan breathes out. “I was just thinking that I wasn’t, you know? My entire life I don’t think I really fit in anywhere. Even growing up I felt distant from my dad and brother… I think because of what happened to my mom. Not that I carried guilt because of it. I didn’t blame myself for her death or anything but I kind of felt like they were privy to something that I wasn’t. When I was a kid I found it hard to make friends, and when I did I still kind of felt like an outsider, you know? All through school, it was the same, until I changed high schools and it got a little better, but still. I was never really comfortable enough to be myself.”

“I’ve never heard Dylan say so much,” Lucy whispers and we all shush her.

“And then?” Dave asks.

Dylan shrugs. “And then I met Riley.”

I gasp, my hand covering my mouth as my heart skips a beat. Mom places her hand on my shoulder, comforting me.

“Riley,” Dave repeats, like my name has so much more meaning that just my name.

“I don’t know, man,” Dylan says, “I don’t know if it’s because I met her at my lowest point and she was accepting of that or…”

“Or what?”

Dylan exhales loudly, both hands on his chest now. “Sometimes she gives me these looks that terrify me.”

“Like she’s going to stab you in your sleep?” Dave asks.

Dylan laughs. “No. Like her world begins and ends with me and I’m scared that I’m going to do something one day and she won’t look at me the same.”

“Oh my god,” I whisper, a sob caught in my throat.

“But… you’re just being yourself around her, right? Like, who you really are,” Dave says.

Dylan nods. “I guess.”

“So why are you scared?”

“Because I never want that feeling to go away.”

“How do you think you look at her?” Dave asks.

“I don’t know,” Dylan mumbles, deep in thought.

“Well, how do you hope she sees you?”

“I hope she knows I love her.”

“Given.”

Dylan sighs. “I hope she sees that she changed me, you know? That it wasn’t just me who helped her get through struggles. I hope she knows that there isn’t a single second I’m away from her when she’s not on my mind. Even when I’m with her, I’m always thinking about her. I think about our future and everything we’re still yet to do. I want her by my side for all of it. She’s…” He chuckles lightly, “…she’s so feisty and fierce and so damn cute. She gets this line on the bridge of her nose when she’s mad and sometimes I purposely annoy her just so I can see that line because it’s the way she was when I first met her, properly you know? And I like remembering that because I’m pretty sure I knew, even then, that there was something about her that I wouldn’t be able to let go of. And I’m fucking lucky, Dave. I’m so fucking lucky that she felt the same because I don’t know what I’d be doing right now if she wasn’t at home waiting for me.” Dylan pauses for a beat, a smile on his lips when he faces Dave. His eyebrows quirk when he sees the camera in his hand but he doesn’t seem to care. “I’m in so fucking deep, man. And I love it. I love her. And I fucking miss her.”

Dave’s heavy breath distorts the speakers.

“You’ll find her one day,” Dylan says.

“Who?”

“Your Riley.”

“I fucking hope so,” Dave says through a chuckle. “You gonna marry her?”

“Isn’t that the plan? I mean, at the base of any relationship, isn’t that the end goal?”

“I guess.”

“Hey,” Dylan says, shifting to his side. “You gonna come to my wedding?”

“Fuck that, Banks. I’m going to be in your wedding.”

Dylan

L
ogan returns to
the living room of the log cabin one of Cameron’s clients had loaned us for the night, wearing a different pair of sweats and a scowl stronger than the whiskey we’re drinking. “Fucking burned my nutsack, assholes!”

Jake holds his stomach, trying to ease the ache from laughing so hard.

“Your face was fucking priceless man,” Cam says. “And the best part…” he breaks off in a fit of laughter. When he’s calm enough, he adds, “We fucking lit it and you moaned Amanda’s name!”

“I was confused!” Logan shouts, slumping down on the couch next to me. “It was so fucking warm, just like her mouth.”

Jake shakes his head. “That’s so wrong, dude.”

I get up from my seat and walk over to the table where my bag holding my supplies is.

“How are things with Riley?” Jake asks.

I shrug. “It’s going well. A little too well.” I grab what I need and pocket it before turning around. “I fucked up pretty bad,” I say, leaning back on the table. “I made a lot of mistakes… just waiting for it to catch up to me.”

Cam shrugs. “We all make mistakes, dude. We all hurt the people we love. It makes us human.”

I sit back down in my chair. “Not as bad as I have.”

“Hello,” Cam points to Logan, “
I ran away for the year under the pretense of saving lives
.”

“Fuck off,” Logan says, but he’s laughing.

“And me?” Cam points to himself. “Do I need to remind you of Slut-of-a-whore-gate? I fucking drew a picture of another girl, bro. I get stabby just thinking about it… and him.” He points to Jake now, then scowls. “Fuck you, Mr. Perfect.”

“Shut up,” Jake snaps, then pauses a moment. “I got drunk and made out with a girl at a party on an away game once.”

We stare at him. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan says. We don’t believe him. Not for a second.

“I just want to fit in,” Jake whines.

“You’d cry if you so much as looked at another girl. Micky would be the one talking you off the ledge,” Cam tells him, then looks over at me. “Truth? You messed up, Dylan. You had every right to. We deal with pain differently.”

“Maybe.” I shrug.

Cam yawns, loud and long and so damn perfect. “I’m fucking fading.”

“Pussy,” Jake says.

“Fuck you! Unlike the fucking rest of you fucking assholes, I fucking have a fucking job. I’m not just fucking cruising through the summer for the fuck of it. I’ve fucking been up since fucking five.”

“Holy shit.” Jake laughs. “Swear much?”

“Sorry. I’m always at work all professional and shit…” He loosens his tie. “…or Lucy’s little brother is always at the cabin and I have to tone down the cursing and it just feels good to fucking swear sometimes.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You want to get it all out now because—”

“Fucking shit of an asshole motherfucking whore bastard son of a toe fucking titty whore!” He releases a breath, his eyes drifting shut. “So much better. Carry on.”

Ten minutes later, he’s fallen asleep in his chair, his glass of whiskey loose in his hand on the armrest. With his mouth open and his head tilted back, he snores quietly.

I smirk.

“Oh shit,” Logan whispers.

I pull out the Ziploc bag from my pocket—the one containing a tampon that’s been soaking in ketchup and tuna brine since I left the house.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” Jake says.

“You haven’t even smelled it yet.”

As silent as possible, the three of us get up and surround him. I open the bag, suppressing my chuckle when I see the guys cringe—their reaction to the smell. So fucking perfect.

I motion for them to hold down Cam’s hand the second I drop it in his mouth and, because they know me and know me well, they both nod, ready.

I suck in a breath, hold it, then lift the tampon an inch above his mouth. Then I drop it.

“WHAFFUGGGG!” Cam screams, his eyes snapping open. He tries to move but his hands are held down and he subconsciously closes his mouth. Then gags, coughs and splutters until he spits it out. His legs are kicking wildly, trying to get me, and I can tell the boys’ grip is weakening because they’re laughing too hard. I hold my stance, my legs apart, my arms crossed. Then he looks down at what he’d just spat out. “Fuck you!” he shouts, legs kicking, arms attempting to get free. “What the fuck is that?”

Logan’s lost it so much he can’t hold him down. He drops to the floor, his hand wiping the tears from his eyes. Cam gets free, his arm raised.

I throw a hand up between us. “What’s the third rule of mayhem?” I laugh out.

“Fuck you.”

“No violence,” Jake answers for him. “Mayhem is the only form of retaliation.”

Cam stops in his tracks, his breaths harsh as they leave him. “You’re going to pay, Banks.”

“I’ll be waiting, Gordon.”

My third plan
didn’t really need any planning, but it does take a day or so to take shape. It’s weak, I know. And to be honest, I didn’t have the heart to do it myself. Jake’s good people. Always has been. Didn’t stop me from asking Cam to help me out. He was all for it. Besides, pink eye for days—totally worth it.

I settle into
bed, prepared to sleep with one eye open. I expect nothing less of my friends than retaliation. I grab my phone to send Ry a good night message, but there’s already one there.

Riley:
I love you. I miss you. Come home to me, okay?

I smile, remembering how all her letters to me started. Letters she doesn’t know I’ve read.

Dylan:
You are my home, Ry.

I go to switch off the phone but notice the Skype notification. Riley had downloaded and set it up for me when I came home on R&R. We’ve only ever used it when I was deployed. My eyes narrow as I click the icon, then widen when I see Dave’s name. There’s a bunch of images he’s sent through along with a message.

Hey man. It’s Mike. I just turned on Davey’s phone and saw that he never sent these to you. Thought you’d like it.

I click on the first image—a screen shot of a Skype conversation Dave had with Riley.

Dave:
Hey beautiful.

Riley:
How are you single, Dave?

Dave:
Ikr. What girl doesn’t love a strawberry blonde, scrawny kid with freckles and my mouth.

Riley:
Lol. How’s our boy doing?

Dave:
We just had two units come in with their vehicles so he’s out working. Poor bastard’s out there earning his keep while I get to talk to his girl.

Riley:
haha. Lucky me.

Dave:
So what’s going on?

I move to the next image, my heart racing, eager for more.

Riley:
Not much. Had car trouble on the way home from work.

Dave:
Wtf? Didn’t D build you that car?

Riley:
lol. Yes.

Dave:
Ry. That dude is in charge of military transportation and you’re telling me he couldn’t fucking build you that piece of shit Honda engine?

Riley:
Bahaha! No. It was my fault. Nothing to do with his work. Don’t worry.

Dave:
So what was it?

Riley:
Oil.

Dave:
Doesn’t his dad work on your car?

I quickly move to the next image, wondering how much they spoke and how he knew all this.

Riley:
Yeah. The check oil light was on… for I don’t know how long… but I have a picture of D on my dash and it was blocking it so…

Dave:
Oh man. He’d be pissed if I told him. Especially since you were probably alone, at night, stranded.

Riley:
I called Mal right away and he was there within fifteen minutes. He made me sit in the car and lock all the doors until he got there. He was so mad at me. Lol. You know how D gets… that silent type mad.

Dave:
Oh, I know the one.

Riley:
Swear he looked so much like Dylan.

Dave:
lol.

Riley:
So yeah… goes without saying this stays between us.

Dave:
Hand on my heart. Speaking of secrets…

Riley:
:) I sent them one last Friday.

Dave:
You are way too good to me.

Riley:
You know I enjoy it.