Never Forget: A Novella in the Echo Platoon Series Read Online Free PDF Page B

boy’s hand.
    “That’s what everyone says.” Curtis finished chewing and swallowed. “I don’t remember him, though,” he added without a trace of emotion.
    A cloud seemed to descend over Rusty’s head. He nodded and looked around the kitchen.
    Maya found her hand on his solid shoulder.
    He cast a sharp glance at her.
    “I have to leave,” she said with an apologetic grimace. “Do you mind locking up when you go?”
    “I’m sure Curtis will handle that,” he said, glancing at her son. “Have a good day at work, Maya. We’ll be fine,” he added.
    But his tone was shot with the tiniest thread of uncertainty. And who could blame him? He’d never had kids. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.
    “You can call me, you know, if you run into any trouble,” she offered.
    “No-o.” He shook his head. “We’ll be good,” he said with more confidence.
    She’d read once that SEALs used positive language to help construct positive outcomes. “Neuro-linguistic programming?” She cocked an eyebrow.
    A short burst of laughter escaped him, wreathing his face with lines of pure amusement that made the breath tangle in her throat.
    “Something like that,” he admitted.
    The urge to hug him overwhelmed her suddenly. Not only did she want to know if his body was as densely muscled as his shoulder suggested, but gratitude held her in a stranglehold. This arrangement sure beat leaving Curtis at loose ends with bad-news Santana hovering on the fringes and influencing her son in less-than-positive ways.
    Reining herself in, she focused on Curtis. “Now, you listen to Mr. Kuzinsky and use your manners,” she ordered.
    “Yes, ma’am,” Curtis said, though the sullenness in his gaze did not bode well in her opinion.
    “I’ll see you shortly after three,” she added. “Bye, Rusty. Thanks again.”
    “No problem.”
    But there it was again—that reservation in his tone that suggested there might actually be a problem. Perhaps she just imagined it.
    Hefting her bags, she let herself out of her condo and headed to her car, sidestepping a thirty-something man walking his Doberman Pinscher.
    “Morning,” she said, casting him a cautious smile as the dog swung its nose in her direction.
    “How you doin’?” the man replied, sliding an oily gaze down the length of her body.
    Maya stiffened. She had met this man somewhere before—probably just out walking his dog. Something about him, either the grubby sweatpants or the thick gold necklace around his neck, warned her to keep her distance. Not for the first time did she consider moving to a safer neighborhood.
    As he tugged the Doberman past her, she continued to her van, settled inside, and turned over the engine, cracking the windows to cool the warm interior. She was putting on her seatbelt and preparing to back out of her parking space when she saw the man stop and look back at her.
    Given the expression on his face, he, too, was trying to recall how they knew each other. Maya sent him a forced smile then looked away in order to reverse her van. As she accelerated out of the condominium complex, a glance into her rearview mirror showed him standing in the same spot, ignoring his dog who tugged at the leash.
    A frisson of alarm raised the downy hairs on Maya’s forearms. Even across the ever-growing distance between them, she sensed the man’s sudden hostility.
    Time to move, she decided, picturing a quaint little house in the country and wondering what Rusty Kuzinsky’s farmhouse looked like.
    *
    “ O KAY, LISTEN UP,” Rusty said, as he and Curtis rounded his house toward the crate he’d erected in the backyard the day before. He could hear the dog going crazy in it. He stopped walking, and the kid, who was already an inch taller than him, looked down and over at him.
    Given the anxious look on Curtis’s face, he didn’t know the first thing about dogs. But that could be good, Rusty reasoned, because then maybe he had no preconceived notion