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she have to repeat Al-Nassar’s threats, make them public?” Javier wanted to punch something. “They’ve told every jihadist in the world that Laura is a target. Don’t they care what happens to her?”
    The problem with a free press as far as Javier could see was that some reporters didn’t know when to shut the fuck up.
    Nate shrugged. “I guess they care more about breaking news.”
    “It’ll be
big
news when some asshole catches up with her and puts a knife in her back.” Javier stood and took a few steps, too restless, too damned angry to sit.
    Nate pointed toward the television. “Isn’t this her old network? Chapin was her anchor, wasn’t he?”
    “Yeah.” Javier glanced up at the middle-aged man on the screen. “He was broadcasting the night of her abduction, covered the whole thing, stayed on the air all night, got all choked up. He won an Emmy, I think. I was impressed then, thought he was all right. Now I want to kick his ass.”
    “You’re really caught up in this.” There was a tone in Nate’s voice that demanded an explanation.
    Javier couldn’t tell him the whole truth, so he told him part of it. “She and I met in Dubai City, spent a wild weekend together. That was about two months before she was abducted.”
    Nate’s eyebrows rose, and he grinned. “You . . . and the Baghdad Babe?”
    Javier turned on Nate. “Don’t call her that. I fucking
hate
that.”
    “Ooh-kay.” There was a note of amusement in Nate’s voice. “If I weren’t married to the most beautiful woman in the world, I’d be jealous. How did you manage to keep that to yourself?”
    “Hey, this brother doesn’t kiss and tell, all right?”
    “I respect that.” Nate grabbed the remote and turned off the television, then stood and walked to the fireplace to toss a few pieces of oak on the blaze. “I think this is about more than Laura Nilsson and the state of the media.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’ve been wound up tight since you got here.” Nate poured himself more scotch and sat across from Javier. “Want to talk about it?”
    “Ah, hell.” Javier sat and took another sip. What was there to talk about? “Not really, man.”
    Why did everyone from the psych team to his parents to Nate think he needed to talk? Life wasn’t an episode of
Dr. Phil
. He didn’t want anyone’s pity. He didn’t need to talk. What he needed was to get strong again and rejoin his team.
    Nate tossed back his drink. “I remember when the truck got hit. I’d have burned to death if you hadn’t pulled me out of there. Then I was lying there in the sand, wishing I would just die. But you took my hand, and you got me through it. You helped me stay strong. If you need me—”
    “I’m
fine
. I got shot a few times, lost a man, watched a helo full of medics crash. It’s a hazard of the job. I knew that before I put on the uniform, and so did every man who died that day.”
    Nate’s gaze shifted to the top of the stairs, where his wife had appeared. Javier didn’t miss the way his buddy watched Megan as she made her way toward them. With long auburn hair and big green eyes, she
was
pretty, though not in Javier’s opinion the most beautiful woman in the world. Then again, all that mattered to him was that she’d brought happiness back into Nate’s life, accepting him scars and all. That alone made her one hell of a woman.
    “Am I intruding?” Wearing a fluffy white bathrobe over purple silk pajamas, her hair hanging loose, she shuffled across the wood floor and crawled into Nate’s lap. “Grandpa Jack is reading Emily a story, but she wants her daddy to tuck her in.”
    Nate kissed Megan’s forehead. “I’ll be right up.”
    Megan looked over at Javier. “Can I get you anything?”
    Javier shook his head. “I’m good.”
    With a smile, she hopped up and disappeared into the kitchen.
    “Look at you. You’re a family man.” Javier grinned. “You’ve got a wife, a sweet little girl, your old man, the