Trouble Triangle (Tyler's Trouble Trilogy) by Travis Casey Read Free Book Online

sweat-soaked palms on my dungarees. "Yeah, I need to talk to you too."
    "I'll pick you up at your barracks at 1700 and we'll go back to my place."
    Shit! It's a long walk back to base from her place. "Can't we just meet at Dolphin's?" I asked.
    "No, this is like super important. We can't let anyone else hear this."
    I sighed. "Okay."
    #
    On the drive to Holly's apartment, I decided to bring up the subject of our future, or non-future as it was about to become. The sooner I told her, the shorter the walk back to base would be.
    “Umm…Holly, I think you're a great gal—"
    "Get outta the way, you chowder-head!" Holly screamed as she shook her fist at the little old man in a Ford Pinto in the lane next to us just before she cut in front of him. She glanced over at me. "Sorry, you were saying?"
    I gripped the armrest on the door and checked to make sure my seat belt was latched. "Well, I was just sayin '—"
    "If this jerk thinks he cuttin ' me off, he's got another thing comin '." She looked in her side-view mirror and gunned the Mustang, pushing me further into the seat. "Sorry, you were saying?"
    She had enough going on without her 'boyfriend' dumping her while she was driving down a busy highway. "That's okay. It can wait."
    We walked into her apartment, and I sat on the black leather couch while she went into the kitchen to get us a drink. She flipped on the radio and the new number one song Don't You Want Me Baby by the Human League played. How fitting. Although I had been in her apartment before, my last visit focused on big, brown, bedroom eyes. This time, I noticed several brightly colored pieces of furniture around. A big red round chair occupied one corner; a blue bean bag chair rested against one wall; and a green leather chair was centered across from the couch with a brass and glass coffee table in between them. Hardly matching, but it offered a retro look. The ceiling fan blew the scent of spring flowers around the room from a big bowl of potpour ri sitting on the coffee table.
    Holly returned with a bottle of Merlot and two wine glasses. After pouring the wine, she sat.
    "I think we both need a drink before we talk," she said as she raised her glass. I raised mine and took a drink, having to stop myself from downing it in one gulp.
    I held up a cigarette. "You mind?"
    She shook her head, went in to the kitchen and returned with an ashtray, placing it on the table in front of me. I lit up and took a deep drag.
    "Holly, there's something I need to say."
    "Well, it'll have to wait. There's nothing that could be more important than what I have to tell you." She stopped, dow ned her drink then refilled it.
    My heart skipped a beat. Maybe she was going to dump me. Yes! Should I cry? A few tears probably wouldn't hurt. Yeah, I'll think about that movie when the dog gets shot in th e end. That always wells me up.
    "I had to see the division officer and the assistant D.O. , Lieutenant Johnson and Master Chief Steele today," she said. "They wanted me to do some research about you." She reached over and clutched my hand. "Baby, they want to kick you out of the Navy."
    "What?" My mind went wild, frantically searching for stupid things I had done. I came up blank. "Kick me out? I haven't done anything." I grabbed the bottle of wine, topped my drink up, took a big gulp and had another puff.
    She turned toward me, kneeling on the couch. She rested her elbow on the back of the couch with her cheek pressed against her hand. "How many times were you arrested before you joined?"
    "What difference does that make?"
    "Like, a lot. Everyone working on submarines has to get a security clearance. That's why you haven't been allowed down on the subs yet. They go back and re-check everything, and dig a little deeper into your past. Apparently, your police record shows that you'd been arrested four times, but your enlistment papers only document two. What gives?"
    "Shit." I leaned forward and slumped my head, studying Holly's orange shag