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She didn’t believe him when he told her, her eyes narrowed in a look of suspicion, lips pursed in slight confusion. “We’re gonna go to a bar in the middle of Las Almas…and have a party?”
Soap nodded. “Yeah, Alejandro and Rudy are making preparations for it.”
“Las Almas is still under Narcos control,” she reminded. “This doesn’t seem like a very…thought out plan.”
“That section of the city is under Vaqueros control,” he countered, flicking her forehead, a grin etching his lips when she slapped at his hand with a glare. “Besides, routine patrols will still happen. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
She grunted, turning back to the gun she’d been cleaning. “I beg to differ.”
“So, you’ll come?”
“Of course I will. What kind of person would I be if I skipped out on this?”
Soap raised his hands in success, turning to the door. “Yes! Now to go run down Ghost.”
***
Ghost frowned at the clear liquor the bartender poured into the glass and he stared at it, griping, “What the fuck did you just pour in my glass?”
“Whiskey,” the man replied.
“That is not whiskey.”
“It’s white whiskey,” Alejandro cut in, balancing his weight on a hand atop Ghost’s shoulder as he sat, gesturing for the man to pour another round. “Made from corn from Oaxaca.”
“Looks like tequila,” Ghost countered, yet picked up his glass and took a sip.
“Eh?”
He shrugged. “Had better. Had worse.”
Alejandro grinned and took a sip of his own, turning on the stool to watch his men mingling with the 141. “What’s your drink of choice, hermano?”
“Kentucky.”
“Bourbon?” Alejandro clarified then pursed his lips. “Won’t find Kentucky here.”
“I’ve noticed.” Ghost turned slightly, enough that he could watch the group. “Why the party?”
The Colonel had a fond look on his face. “Give my men a reminder of what we fight for. Not just freedom, but peace, the ability to gather with family and friends with no fear for their lives.” He chuckled as he watched Soap pull a face at the shot of tequila he’d taken, Rudy on the other hand was simply holding his empty shot glass with a carefree grin. Something came over his features, Ghost recognized it as a long-held desire. “I want to see my home free, Ghost. I want to retire in the mountains, have a family. Raise my children and play with my grandchildren when I am old. Telling them stories of my glory days.” He looked at the Brit. “I cannot do that if my men aren’t reminded of what we’re fighting for now.”
Ghost nodded. “You’re a good leader, Alejandro. An even better man.”
“I try to be.” He gazed at the man. “What of you, hermano? What is your desire?”
He snorted, holding the glass up to his lips. “Don’t die before I’m forty.”
“Brindo por eso,” Alejandro laughed, raising his glass, though his expression dropped into one of almost reverence when the doors to the bar opened. “Dios mío,” he breathed. “Esa mujer prende fuego a mi corazón.”
Ghost turned to look at whatever brought out such devotion from the man, and without even understanding what Alejandro had said, he felt the exact same when his eyes fell on Seraph. She wore a simple black cotton dress, the front hand embroidered with vibrant colors, flowers, and swirls; along her wrists and ankles were delicate gold bracelets, a simple pair of black sandals adorned her feet. Her expression was one of sudden regret when she looked at the men and women in the bar, half still dressed in their gear, the other half still armed—her assumptions of the party were in fact very far off. Her hands were in front of her stomach, fingertips touching as she scanned the room for someone she knew, faces blending together until she met dark brown eyes, and her expression eased into a look of pure relief.
“Eres un afortunado hijo de puta, Ghost,” Alejandro murmured.
“Acordado,” he replied as he watched Seraph part the crowd, heading right for him. Ghost swallowed the rest of the liquor in his glass as she stood before him, taking in the true beauty she was. Eyes delicately brushed with a soft shimmer shadow; lips painted with a petal pink.
She looked at Alejandro with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, Colonel, I didn’t realize tonight was not as casual as I had assumed.”
Alejandro rose to his feet, taking one of her hands as he pressed his lips to the back of it, flattered, “Nunca tienes que arrepentirte de agraciarnos con tu belleza, Ángel.”
A smile lit up her face as she pulled her hand away and placed her hands on his shoulder, pulling him in enough to press her cheek to his. “Se gracias, Alejandro, tú también estás guapo esta noche.” As he pulled from her, he winked at Ghost and wandered off towards Rudy and Soap, leaving the two, and she gestured to the seat. “May I?”
He nodded, turning to the bartender. “Margarita de fresa. Congelado, sal en el borde.” The bartender nodded, taking care of her order and she gave Ghost a surprised look.
“You speak Spanish?”
“Enough to order alcohol,” he retorted, voice gruff, but she heard the humor in it. “You look good.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, glancing down bashfully. “I think this is the first time I’ve worn makeup in a year and a half. I forget how much better it makes me look.”
Ghost huffed and blurted, “You look more beautiful without it.” Immediately, he shut his eyes and cursed himself, barely managing to suppress the desire to slap a hand over his face and groan.
Her cheeks warmed and she said, “Thank you, Simon.” She gave a quiet, “Gracias” to the bartender when her drink was placed in front of her, and to avoid the embarrassment, she set to drinking.
“Where’d you even get all this?” he asked, gesturing to her dress and jewelry.
“Oh! I bought it a few days ago when Soap and I went out on patrol. The dress, I mean. The jewelry I had back in my pack.” She tugged at the cotton fabric. “Really cheap, but I paid the woman more than needed for it. Figured she could use the money more than I did.”
“Good heart,” he said.
“I wasn’t a winning contestant for nothing,” she joked, taking a bigger sip from her glass; pushing it over, she offered. “Try it.”
He made a face. “I don’t like tequila.”
“Tough titty, said the kitty,” she griped. “Do it.”
Ghost rolled his eyes and picked up her glass, not bothering to shift the glass around where the salt had been disturbed by her lips and downed a swig of it; swallowing, he set it back down and nodded. “Not bad.”
She smiled, heart flipping in her chest as she tapped at the glass. “Mexican tequila is made differently than the usual stuff we drink back overseas. If you really want good tequila, you’ve gotta get it from the source.”
“What are you? An alcohol connoisseur?”
Huffing a laugh, she replied, “One of the contestants in Miss Earth, Miss Mexico, told me a few years ago. Besides, I’ve taken a few trips around the world. You taste a lot of alcohol when you do.”
“Hmm.”
She went back to her drink, ordering another when hers was finished.
“How’s the wound?”
Her hand subconsciously went to her side, and she smiled. “Good. Still sore when I move a certain way, but the round of antibiotics helped.” Tipping her head, she added, “That being said, I don’t want to be shot again any time soon.”
Ghost snorted. “Then this is not the profession for you, Sweetheart.”
“Oh, it is,” she countered. “It just means I need to get sneaky enough to never be seen again.”
“Good luck. Most people do in fact investigate noises when they hear them.”
She gasped with an exaggerated fashion. “Wait! You mean to tell me that real life isn’t like the video games and movies!”
Ghost rolled his eyes. “You’re such an odd duck.”
“Excuse you, Lieutenant, this is twenty-eight years of suppressed oddness finally being comfortable enough to be unleashed.”
“That’s not pleasing.”
“Not meant to be.” She breathed deeply, letting out a content noise as she gently rested her head on his arm. “I really do feel comfortable here, Simon. With you guys.”
“Yeah?” he murmured, looking down at her, trying so hard not to breathe in the scent of vanilla and lilies that seemingly followed her everywhere.
“My father isn’t a good man, Simon,” she whispered, evidently loose-lipped. “I didn’t have a good childhood.”
Ghost hummed lowly. “You don’t have to tell me now, Seraph. Not here where everyone can listen.”
“But I want you to know,” she said, turning her head to gaze at him, eyes sad. “I…want someone to know.” He nodded wordlessly. “This life now, this job, it’s hard. The hardest thing I’ve ever done. I thought I was going to die when I was in training because I knew nothing about survival or guns or war. But I passed and now I’m here doing this.” She gazed at him. “This is the first time in my life that I’ve chosen something for myself. I clawed my way out of his grip to freedom. Even if it meant doing what we do and having to live with the choices I make, I’m free. I’m free.”
He gently lifted a hand, brushing away a fly away as he commended, “I’m proud of you.” Tears filled her eyes, lips wobbling as she turned her head down, and Ghost took her hand, ignoring the sniffling that came from her as he simply brushed his thumb along her hand. “Not just anyone can crawl out of a hellhole, Seraph. It takes real strength and courage to take that leap.” He squeezed her hand firmly but was careful not to hurt her. “I don’t know who your father is, and I don’t care who he is, but you are not him. You are more. You’re better.”
Her sniffling didn’t let up, but she turned her face into his arm and stayed there for a few minutes until she pulled away and glared at him. “I took all this time to be pretty and look what you did.”
And look he did, at the red rims around her eyes, the tear streaks on her cheeks, and if he was being honest, her nose was running a little, so he tossed her a napkin and said, “Wipe your nose, toddler.”
“You’re an ass,” she griped, but did as he told her, sniffing harshly as she wiped her nose and under her eyes before clearing her throat and declaring, “I want to dance.”
“I don’t dance,” Ghost said.
“I didn’t say I was dancing with you,” she countered and leaned up, pecking his cheek; she slid off the barstool and turned, “Alejandro! Baila conmigo!”
Groans echoed around the room, but Alejandro’s shout of pride echoed higher. “¡Ajá! ¡El Ángel bonita me ha elegido!”
Before he could even think about reaching her, someone had her upper arm, spinning her around to a strong chest as another hand rested on her upper back. She gaped at Ghost. “I thought you said you don’t dance?”
“I don’t,” he reiterated.
A knowing look came across her face, and she teased, “Don’t be so green, Simon. It’s unbecoming of a man like you.”
“And yet I’m still a hot-blooded man just like everyone else.”
She smiled as an upbeat tune filtered through the speakers and she took his hands in hers, joy lighting up her face as she spun around. Soldiers from both teams even gathered in, taking the hands of their friends as the group danced together, laughter echoing all around, drinks pouring. Her eyes never left Simon’s, and neither his hers even as they were pulled away and into other arms and circles.