It was like running a gauntlet of eyes.
They got into the chow line, and Ella waved her hand at all the hungry male faces turned in their direction. “Want one? You can take your pick.”
“No, thanks.” Devon paused. “Is it always like this? Like being an animal in a zoo? I mostly stayed on the special operations compound last time.”
Not that that was any safer.
She gave an almost imperceptible flinch, which the sharp-eyed Ella noticed. “It’s always like this, yeah. What’s it like with the SEALs?”
“Not like this,” Devon said. “Mainly because they don’t beg. Some of them just take what they want.”
“Ah, honey.” Ella’s eyes lit with sympathy, and she patted Devon’s arm. “I’m sorry.”
They finished their meals in silence and made it back to their quarters just after the sun had set.
“Hey, a word of advice,” Ella ventured, “if you go to the shower trailers alone, bring a knife. The doors don’t lock. Better yet, don’t take a shower alone.”
This time it was Ella’s voice throbbing with pain, and Devon’s stomach hollowed out.
“You, too?”
“Me, too.”
“Did you report it?”
Ella shook her head. “Would it have done any good?”
The answer to that stabbed Devon with bitter knowledge, and all she could do was look down at her feet. It certainly hadn’t done her any good. In fact, it’d made everything worse.
“You got drunk, Ms. Lowe. Fell asleep on a man’s bed.”
“I didn’t know what I was doing. I was so drunk I couldn’t even sit up!”
“Were you intending to have sexual intercourse that night?”
“No! I just wanted to sleep.”
“You okay?” Ella’s voice broke into her anguished memories.
Devon realized she was shaking, and wrapped her arms around herself. “Yeah. Trying to be.”
Ella seemed to debate with herself for a moment before making a decision. “I want to give you more advice that someone once gave me.” She took a deep breath. “Forgive yourself.”
“Forgive myself?” Devon couldn’t believe her ears, and her jaw clenched. “Why myself?”
“For being naïve, stupid, stars-in-your-eyes, whatever words you use to tear yourself down with. Whatever words you use when you wonder if, somehow, you really were asking for it.”
Devon froze, and Ella gave a knowing nod. “Why did I go to the shower trailers alone? We were told to use the buddy system at all times, so it wasn’t the rapist’s fault for raping me, it was mine for breaking the rules.”
“What?” Devon was aghast. “Who...”
“That’s what the base chaplain told me when I went to him afterward. That I wouldn’t have been raped if I’d just followed the rules.” Ella shrugged. “You saw the guys at the chow hall. They’re desperate. They have needs. I shouldn’t have gone to the shower trailer alone. It was my fault.”
“That’s why you didn’t report it,” Devon whispered. “You knew that’s what they’d say.”
“I knew a woman who reported her assault to the guy’s commander, and guess what he said to her? ‘Rape is an occupational hazard for women in the military.’ So if we want to serve our country, we need to accept that we might be raped. Right?”
Rage heated Devon’s cheeks. “And then if we are, it must have been our fault somehow. Wearing a too-tight T-shirt to the chow hall, taking a shower alone...”
Sleeping with your teammate.
“No matter what, you didn’t deserve what happened to you,” Ella said quietly. “It wasn’t your fault. You know this already, so why not forgive the woman you were then, and love her? It wasn’t because of her, or anything she did, that bad things happened, okay?”
“Yeah.” Devon’s voice was barely audible. “Sure.”
“So tell me about it. Tell me the things you tell yourself.”
Devon blinked rapidly to keep the tears from falling. The scorn on the commanding officer’s face, in his eyes, swirled nauseatingly in front of her.
“You don’t get to come in here and ruin good men’s careers...”
“Devon?”
“I was fucking one of the SEALs,” Devon ground out. “Enthusiastically, willingly.” She gave a bitter snort. “Frequently. It wasn’t a secret, we were just two people having a great time.”
“A deployment relationship.”
“Exactly.”
She’d known it wasn’t professional. People in a war zone were expected to act responsibly and ensure their personal behavior didn’t jeopardize mission readiness. But she’d liked him, and they were having fun. With no expectations and no messy entanglements, it was just supposed to be a harmless way to push the boundaries, which is what SEALs did every day, right?
And God, she’d wanted to be one of the guys.
Ella’s eyes were steady on hers. “So you weren’t expecting anything from him?”
“No, I really wasn’t.” Devon shook her head. “Looking back now, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“So what happened?” Ella’s voice was whisper soft.
“One night he went to get a condom from his locker. When he opened it, this picture fell out.”
“A picture of?”
Devon looked down at her hands. “A beautiful blonde woman.”
“Ah.” With a sympathetic wince, Ella said, “So he was married?”
“Engaged. It never once occurred to me he might be involved with anyone. He never mentioned her. At all. Granted, we didn’t do a lot of talking when we were together, but...”
“What happened then?”
“I told him it was over, and I got up and walked out. Left him standing there with a hard-on and a condom in his hand.”
“Ouch. Did he retaliate?”
“Yep.” The painful memories washed over Devon in wave after wave. “Told the guys I was a bitch and a cocktease. After that, every time I was around any of them, they’d make sexual jokes, call me names, treat me with total disrespect. Totally different from the guys who insult everybody equally. It wasn’t in fun; I was a target.”
“Because in their minds, you were a slut.”
Swallowing hard, Devon said, “Right. I was a slut. Not him. Not any of the rest of them who cheated on their significant others or tried to nail anything that moved. Just me.”
“What did you do?”
“Started drinking the canned vodka we scored from the locals, which made it easier to laugh at the jokes, act like I didn’t care. Be one of the guys.” Devon shuddered. “One night we all got hammered. Vodka, whiskey. I barely remember it. I do remember my ex-lover saying, ‘C’mon, let’s get you to bed.’ He wrapped his arm around my waist and helped me, but not to my room. To his.”
“Where he...” Ella squeezed her arm. “Oh, honey.”
“I passed out,” Devon said dully. “And woke up to laughter, to hands on me. I was naked. They wouldn’t stop...”
Devon couldn’t go on. Ella looked her in the eye. “Getting drunk doesn’t mean you deserved it. Right? The fact you’d been sleeping with one of them doesn’t mean you deserved it. Even if you’d slept with all of them doesn’t mean you deserved it. Is that what you tell yourself, what you beat yourself up with?”
“No.” With a bitter laugh, Devon said, “I beat myself up with the fact that no matter how many names they called me, no matter the shit they said about me, I still...” She sucked in a ragged breath. “I still trusted them. They were my goddamn teammates. They were supposed to have my back, Ella. They were supposed to have my back.”
Ella slipped her arm around Devon’s shoulders and held her close.
When Ella at last fell asleep at about three a.m., Devon curled up on her bed. Could she ever forgive herself for that? For trusting them? Stupid, naïve little girl, trusting in the heroes simply because they were supposed to be heroes, not because they’d earned it.
She stared dry-eyed up
into the darkness until the glowing numbers on her G-Shock watch indicated 0500. She rose quietly and gathered her things, then brushed her fingers across the bottom of Ella’s bed.
“Thanks,” she whispered. “I’ll never forget you.”
She let herself out and made her way toward the office, where she dropped off her key. Rhys was waiting for her right outside, and he handed her a cup of too-hot, too-strong coffee, which she took with a grateful smile.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
“Yep.” She told him about Ella, leaving out their main topic of conversation but saying how much fun she’d had going to dinner with her.
“I need more women in my life,” she said. “Women veterans, badass girls who’ve been through a lot of the same things I have.”
“Like having to pee outside?” His voice was teasing, his eyes warm in the predawn darkness.
“Among other things.” She reached out and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Hey, thanks for letting me sleep on the plane. And for being there when I woke up.”
Rhys squeezed her back. “Thanks for trusting me to be there when you woke up.”
Because he’d worked hard to earn her trust, with everything he said, with everything he did. That was the difference, and at that realization, a tiny piece of Devon’s heart knit back together.
They let go of each other as the other guys started emerging from the barracks, sleepy-eyed and grumbling. There was the sound of helicopter rotors in the distance, and a frisson of excitement mixed with fear spiked Devon’s heartbeat.
This was it.
There was no going back now.
Chapter Fourteen
Beauty. Poverty. Mountains. Dust.
The impressions swirled through Devon’s mind as she jumped out of the helicopter and ran to avoid the rotor wash. When the bird had clattered away, she shouldered her gear and followed her teammates toward the small American outpost—their new, temporary home.
Ringed by breathtaking ridges, the base lay in close proximity to a village of several thousand people. Huge sand-and-rock-filled bags made up the outpost perimeter, the entrance checkpoint manned by a squad of Marines.
In addition to the tactical operations center, there was a motor pool and a chow hall, and of course a well-appointed gym. The SEALs’ living quarters consisted of a plywood building divided up into individual rooms barely big enough for a bunk bed, a small desk and a locker. Devon was pleased to have the privacy, although she’d have to share the primitive shower and bathroom facilities with the guys.
She grimaced at the sight of the “toilet,” which was nothing more than a ceramic-coated hole in the flooring directly under the showerhead. In a corner of the room was a large plastic trash bag.
“Put your, um, used toilet paper in that, ma’am,” the young Marine giving her a tour said. “The pipes can’t handle it.”
Devon glanced at the bag, the hole, and then raised her eyebrow. “How do we flush? I don’t see a handle.”
The Marine shrugged. “When somebody showers, it’ll wash everything down, ma’am. That’s why no paper. If it gets backed up...”
“Got it,” she said hastily, not really needing the visual.
Back in her room, Devon tested the lock on the door. It was flimsy, like everything else about the building, but someone would still have to kick it in in order to gain entry. The noise and effort would give her plenty of time to arm herself. Satisfied, Devon set about unpacking her gear.
The top bunk was for storage, the locker for her weapons. Devon made her bed with some cheerful flowered sheets she’d brought with her and strung some Christmas lights along the wall. Her toiletries went into a shower caddy which she placed on the desk, and she hung her terry-cloth robe from a hook.
At last, propping her hands on her hips, Devon declared it home sweet home.
When there came a quiet knock on the door, she pulled it open to see Rhys leaning against the jamb. “Settling in okay?” he asked, scanning her minuscule space. “Wow, looks great.”
“Yep. Luxury at its finest.”
His face took on a sorrowful expression. “Much better than my place. Wanna see?”
The medical hooch was a few buildings down. It consisted of one large room divided by a curtain, which Rhys pulled back to reveal his cot, locker and a few shelves for toiletries. The outer area, where he’d see patients, was stacked with boxes of medical supplies.
Rhys heaved a long-suffering sigh. “It’s gonna take hours to unpack.”
Devon grunted before yanking her knife from its sheath on her thigh and ripping into the nearest box. “I’ll help you. Whiner.”
They pelted each other with rolls of gauze as they worked, and when they were done, Rhys invited Devon to sit. They sprawled on his bed, backs to the wall, cans of warm Rip-It in hand.
Rhys drained his can in one gulp, then let out a contented sigh. “Thanks for your help. That would’ve taken me forever.”
“Did I actually see you put away a box of speculums?” Devon asked, one knee drawn up, wrist draped across it.
Rhys nodded. “Yeah. Spec ops medics are trained in basic OB/GYN. I can deliver a baby if I need to.” He paused. “You think any of the village women will come to see me?”
“No. Their husbands and fathers would never allow it.”
“Even if you’re here?”
“Even then.” She hesitated. “To be seen by a male outside the family, to converse with him, much less be examined by him—it won’t happen, Rhys, even with me present. There could be severe consequences for any woman who tried.”
They were quiet as Rhys digested that. “We promised them schools, and clinics, and roads, in exchange for helping us fight the insurgency. It doesn’t seem like anyone’s accomplished anything. Does it?”
Except thousands of people dead. On both sides.
“It’ll take several generations and many trillions of dollars to even begin to accomplish what we promised,” she said softly. “And we only have four months.”
The politics of why they were here, why they were still here, were so muddied that Devon didn’t think she’d ever understand it.
With twin sighs, they got up from the bed and ambled outside, where Devon spied Bradley wearing a hunted look on his face as a village man spoke earnestly to him. When he saw Devon, he called, “A little help here?”
As Devon hurried over to them, Rhys on her heels, she pulled an ever-present scarf from her pocket and draped it over her head before addressing the man.
“Salaam alaikum,” she greeted him. Peace be upon you.
“What’s he want?” Bradley asked impatiently.
Devon listened closely as the man waved his hand at a nearby pile of broken-down MRE boxes, which were intended for the burn pit. “He’d like to have those.”
Bradley looked at the guy, then at the boxes. “What for?”
Devon listened again. “To make a new floor for his house, sir.”
When Bradley indicated he could take it, the village man snapped his fingers and several preteen boys darted over to grab up the flattened cardboard.
Bradley looked like he wanted to say something else, but hesitated.
“What is it, El-Tee?” Devon prodded him.
“Well, it’s just amazing to me that he’d talk to a woman. I mean, we’re not allowed to talk to their women. Why is it okay for them to talk to you?”
With a shrug, Devon said, “They don’t see foreign women as a threat, and I’m not bound by their own cultural restrictions. I’m completely neutral to them, like Switzerland.”
“Shit.” Bradley shook his head. “That’s amazing. You’re such an asset to this platoon.” He sounded totally sincere, and Devon flushed with pleasure.
“Thanks, sir.”
They all watched the boys finish gathering up the cardboard before scurrying away with it. The man nodded his thanks as he followed them back into the depths of the village.
Devon bit her lip. The Americans had
promised so many things in exchange for the demands they’d put on these people—a stable government, a well-equipped military, an economic regrowth.
And what’d they get instead? Some broken-down cardboard.
“Can we go into the village, too, sir? Spread the word that a medical clinic is now open, locals welcome?” Rhys’s voice was subdued, as if he was thinking the same thing Devon was. They had to be able to do more.
“Hold off for a bit,” Bradley said. “Just till we get a little more familiar with the area.” He indicated two Humvees that were revving up nearby, each containing a fire team of four SEALs. “Let’s get a couple of recon patrols under our belt, take the temperature of the area, and then we’ll plan our course of action.”
With nothing else to do, Devon and Rhys made plans to meet at the gym. When she walked into the facility about ten minutes later, a few Marines were already there—lifting weights, doing sit-ups and pushups, climbing the floor-to-ceiling rope.
They all stopped to stare at her.
Another gauntlet of eyes. Great.
Ignoring them, Devon headed for one of the rickety treadmills to do her warm-up. The guys continued to gape, intermittent laughter breaking out among them. At last they designated a spokesman, who sauntered over and propped his elbow on the treadmill console.
“Hey, ’sup.” The guy was young, tanned, good-looking. He grinned at her, showing even white teeth. “Whatcha doing?”
She didn’t even dignify that with a response.
Undeterred, the dude said, “They sure makin’ the nurses hot these days. Dang.” His hazel eyes took a trip up and down her body. Devon fought not to shudder. Guys like this fed off a woman’s reaction and damned if she was going to give it to him.
Rhys strolled into the gym, along with Grizz and Smudge. Immediately the grunts’ heads whipped toward them, identifying them as special ops due to their longer-than-regulation hair and Grizz’s heavy beard. Hero worship on their faces, they vigorously resumed their workouts in hopes of impressing them.
“Hey, Ms. Lowe,” Smudge called to her. “We’re doing the Murph today. You in?”
Keeping a Warrior Page 17