But wait. That wasn't right.
A part of his mind argued with the familiar dream. That wasn't the way it happened. He'd stayed with his mom, brother and sister until his dad limped over to them.
Except Gray could feel his flight boots pounding the pavement, the panic slugging through him. Flight boots? But he was a kid.
He ran faster. He had to reach his dad before everything blew. The cement cracked and spewed chunks of asphalt with each round of fire. His leg flashed with fiery-hot pain. Gray dodged and wove across the runway.
His father disappeared inside the uniform. Lori appeared in his place, holding Gray's little sister.
Gray leaped forward to tackle them just as the tarmac exploded beneath his feet.
Ring.
His ears echoed with the aftershock.
Light streaming through the blinds stung his eyes. Gray stuffed his head under his pillow to smother the sound and restore darkness.
Pillow?
Ring.
He shook off the bad dream, an expected byproduct of gunfire. Most combat flyers had them, and yesterday's shoot-out in Sentavo qualified for nightmare material. Knowing didn't make it suck any less. But at least his would fade normally, as they had done after he'd flown C-130s in Desert Storm, and again after his brief stint in Afghanistan. His father's combat dreams still had the old man walking the floors at night.
Ring. Gray pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes to dispel the lingering grip of fear for his dad—for Lori.
Ring.
Gray lobbed his pillow at the phone—and missed.
Fire shot up his leg. Groaning, he rolled to his back on the queen-size bed, boot propped, knee bent so his throbbing calf wouldn't touch even the comforter.
Ring.
He snatched the phone off the cradle. "Yeah."
"Morning, sunshine."
"God, Bronco. It's still…" Gray scrubbed a hand over his bleary eyes and read his watch. "Two hours till debrief. Go pound sand."
"No, thanks." Tanner Bennett's too-damn-cheerful laugh faded on the other end. "So, Cutter, what's up?"
"Nothing."
"Too bad."
"Not funny."
"Now is that any way to talk to your best bud?"
His nosy best bud. Gray needed to get off the phone so he could see Lori and wash away the sour aftertaste of his dream. "It's not fair to challenge a man before his morning pot of coffee. I'm hanging up, bud."
"Wait. I'm calling to offer my help."
"Help?"
"Moving Lori's car back to her place. I couldn't help but notice it parked in the lot when I came in."
Gray resisted the urge to growl at Bronco, knowing that would only further fuel the guy's curiosity. Locker-room confidences about women, especially Lori, weren't his style anyway, no matter how close the friendship. "Quit fishing, pal. That pond's empty."