Restless Waters by Jessica Speart

with someone that said he’d been with Special Forces while on my job in Montana. I believe he served in Desert Storm. The guy was a Blackfoot Indian by the name of Nathan, or Michael, or something,” I said, pretending to search my memory.
    “You must mean Matthew Running,” Kevin swiftly responded.
    I was surprised to find that the sound of his name still sent shock waves through me. I’d tried so hard to forget about the man. Only it had proven to be impossible.
    Matthew Running was the tribal game officer for the Blackfeet Reservation of Montana. We’d worked together on a case, only to become involved in much more than just wildlife. Our fleeting affair had nearly ended my relationship with Santou.
    “Yeah, I’ve heard of him,” he continued.
    “That’s it? You’ve just heard of him?” I lightly pressed.
    Kevin would have probably been in Special Forces around the same time. If so, there’s no way that he wouldn’t have known Matthew.
    I could almost feel Kevin weighing how much to tell me. The ghost of a memory seemed to flash across his eyes.
    “Let’s just say we worked together for a while, and he was one of the best. Running served alongside a close friend that he’d grown up with, a buddy of his who was killed in action.”
    That clinched it. Kevin really had known Matthew Running.
    A shiver kissed the back of my neck and I glanced around, half expecting to find Matthew standing there. My heart sank a little to discover I was wrong.
    “So, did I pass your test?” Kevin slyly questioned, bringing me back to reality.
    “You’re doing better than before,” I grudgingly conceded. However, I still wasn’t ready to totally trust him. “Listen, you’re right. I admit that I’m protective of Jake. But we’ve been through a lot these past few years. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not about to let him be pulled back into any bad habits.”
    “And that’s what you’re afraid will happen if he hangs with me?” Kevin queried.
    I nodded wordlessly.
    Kevin opened a cooler on the floor, pulled out a beer, and tossed it to me.
    “I may be a lot of things, both good and bad. But I’m loyal as hell to my friends. And I can swear this much to you. Santou won’t be doing any drugs while I’m around,” Kevin said, his voice low and intense.
    I sipped my beer and said nothing, still not completely satisfied.
    Kevin looked at me and sighed. “Yeah, okay. And I’ll also make sure that he doesn’t take on any more monster waves,” he promised. “What do you say? Truce?”
    I took a deep breath, and slowly let go of some of my animosity.
    “Truce,” I agreed.
    Only then did we clink our beer bottles together.
     
    I was in bed with the sheets pulled around my head, my body buffeted by a cool breeze coming in off the trade winds. The ceiling fan languidly whirled above, softly purring, as if luring the current to hitch a ride on its blades. The drone of deep rhythmic breathing provided a backdrop of bass, its sound broken only by an occasional dreamlike whimper. It was Spam, fast asleep by my side, his head nestled on Jake’s pillow.
    I remained awake until Santou tiptoed into the room at about 2 A.M . He gently nudged the dog down along the foot of the bed, and then crawled under the covers beside me. A ray of moonlight traipsed among his curls, its reflection lightly grazing his cheek. The man looked so vulnerable that I thought my heart would break. Jake reached over and pulled me toward him. I rested my head on hisshoulder and knew that any disagreement between us had long since passed.
    “I’m sorry if I scared you out there today,” he simply said.
    I ran my fingers through his tangle of hair, splintering the moonbeam into a shower of luminous drops. Santou was home, and I could finally relax.
    I’d grown to accept the fact that Jake was the antidote to all the darkness that tried to encroach upon me. He was that essential part of myself that was otherwise missing. Santou had