What?
He didn’t believe her. Lani didn’t have a malicious bone in her body, not even in the midst of the worst of their breakup. There was something else going on here. Settling his hands on her shoulders, he gave her a light squeeze, a sudden worry coursing through him and replacing the anger. “Lani...”
Pulling away from him, she forced out, “I’m really sorry, Rhys. I don’t know what I was thinking. You have every right to be furious with me.”
He braced himself. “Does whatever this is have something to do with Tyler?”
“No.” Her voice was thick with unshed tears. “This was all me. I was just using you to make myself feel better, okay? Just go.”
Desire to find Devon clashed with his confusion over what was going on with Lani. Finally, the need to see Devon won out. “I do have to go, but I’ll call you later, okay?” he said gruffly, reaching out to tug on her hand, gratified when she turned into his arms.
As he held her, the tears in Lani’s eyes spilled over, wetting the front of his T-shirt. “I’m so sorry.”
His heart aching, Rhys pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s okay.”
Lani clutched him for one more long moment, then determinedly stepped back and dashed the back of her hand over her wet cheeks. “Go. And please tell Devon I’m sorry, too. I hope I didn’t mess things up.”
Only in that she might already be gone.
Rhys didn’t say that, though, just pulled open the door and grabbed up his ruck. “Let me know if you see that ‘CIA’ asshole again, because if you do, he’s gonna find a bunch of pissed-off Navy SEALs at his door.”
Lani gave a watery chuckle. “I will. Goodbye, Rhys.”
When she’d softly closed the door behind him, Rhys laid his palm over the cool metal for one brief moment, and then he ran down the steps to call an Uber.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Go ahead. Drink all of Shane’s beer. I don’t care.”
Devon glared at Matt as she opened her second Corona. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“I’m telling you, beer isn’t what you need. Let’s go for a run.”
She took a long, deliberate gulp of the bottled brew. “Mmm, so cold. So delicious. And I’m not running anywhere.”
Despite Matt’s belief that the best remedy for everything included lots of punishing exercise, he hadn’t strayed far from her side.
Even as her phone remained stubbornly silent.
“Go ahead and call him, idiot,” he said, slumping into a chair opposite her at the kitchen table. “You know the dude is just cleaning up his mess. He doesn’t really want her back.”
Didn’t he? It’d hurt to watch him hug that tall, beautiful girl—a girl who had a history with him, who in so many ways knew him better than Devon did. She had a hold on him that wouldn’t be easy to break, and now that he was actually with her, he might decide he wanted the safety, the security, the familiarity.
Not the woman who was leaving.
Needing a distraction, she was about to say a run was a good idea after all when Matt’s phone rang. Casting an apologetic look at Devon, he answered it with an eager, “Hey, babe. How’re you feeling?” as he disappeared into the backyard, the low intimate murmur of his voice underscoring Devon’s loneliness.
So what now?
At loose ends, she got up from the table and wandered into the living room, drawn by the various framed photographs resting on a small side table. Peering at one more closely, Devon let out a gasp. It was the blonde woman in the picture Jon had dropped that night so long ago. His fiancée.
In the photo, she was standing next to Shane, the resemblance between them so strong Devon had no idea how she’d missed it before. A dark-haired little girl held Shane’s hand, her smile wide and innocent. Tears stinging her eyes, Devon traced her finger lightly over the girl’s face.
Jon’s daughter. She had to be.
Sudden grief broke through the fragile, protective crust that’d formed over her heart. Like lava spewing from a volcano, it welled to the surface, leaving Devon struggling for air.
“It’s your fault. He was distracted, worried about his relationship.”
Hank’s angry, bitter words.
Hands holding her down, laughing faces, suffocating weight on top of her. Jon watching, a malicious light in his eyes at the sight of her helplessness, her humiliation, after her rejection of him.
“You don’t belong here,” his expression had seemed to say. “This is all you’re good for.”
Then Shane’s voice: “It was the SEAL community’s loss. Not Lex’s. Not mine.”
Through the roaring in her ears, Devon heard Matt’s footsteps behind her, felt his warmth at her shoulder. She reached out and touched the picture again with a trembling finger. “Her father’s name is Jon, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Matt rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Jon Robinson. Shane and Alexis’s childhood friend, and Lex’s fiancé.”
Before she knew it, Devon was telling him everything, about her short-lived relationship with Jon and its aftermath.
When she finally trailed off, Matt squeezed her arms, his voice low and fierce. “It never ceases to amaze me, the emotional devastation this one dude managed to inflict.”
“And you know what’s really messed up?” she choked out. “That despite everything, I still cried when he died. I cried over him, Matt.”
With a sympathetic murmur, Matt pointed to another picture, one of him and Shane on the beach at sunset. He was sitting between Shane’s legs, his forearms draped over Shane’s upraised knees, Shane’s arms wrapped around Matt’s shoulders. The fading light caressed their profiles as they gazed out over the ocean, their faces relaxed, at peace.
“He did, too,” Matt said gently. “And let me tell you, that fucker almost destroyed him.”
“Does he—” Her voice broke. “Does Shane know about me and Jon? It’s his sister he was cheating on. With me.”
“I don’t know. We don’t talk about that asshole, Devon. It’s too painful for him.”
Devon could tell by his tone there was a lot more to the story, but she didn’t want to pry, didn’t really want to know.
Bowing her head, she squeezed her eyes shut, only to open them again when Matt kissed her temple. “But of all people, Shane knows who Jon was, what he was capable of. He knows what happened to you in Afghanistan, Devon. There’d never be any blame coming from him. For anything.”
Devon let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.
“In fact, when I talked to him just now, he asked me to give you this.” Spreading his arms, Matt waited for Devon to turn into the circle of them before wrapping them around her. “A big hug from Shane, okay? From me, too.” He cleared his throat, then said gruffly, “We love you.”
Clutching on to him, Devon dropped her forehead to his chest. “Thank God,” she rasped. “Because I need you both in my life. You have no idea how much.”
Matt smoothed his hand over Devon’s hair. “The fact you cried when he died? You were crying for an American who’d lost his life in service to his country. He died heroically, and for that, he’d earned every one of those tears. I think that’s what Shane tells himself, too.”
Squeezing him hard, Devon whispered, “Thank you, sweet friend.” She gave a watery chuckle. “I bet all this display of emotion is killing you, right?”
“You have no idea,” he said fervently. “I don’t bring Mushy Matt out all that often.”
Devon huffed a laugh. “Well, I think you’ve more than earned that run. Let’s—”
Before Matt could reply, a loud buzzing sounded from the kitchen. They both stiffened, and Matt patted her shoulder.
“I’ll be in the backyard if you need me.”
Her chest tight, Devon wiped her palms on the legs of her jeans, closed her eyes for a brief moment, and prayed for strength.
Then she answered the phone.
* * *
The grocery sto
re was too bright. It had too many choices.
After months of only eating packaged MREs, the dizzying array of food laid out in aisle after endless aisle made Rhys feel slightly ill.
Do we really need twenty-seven brands of peanut butter to choose from? Jesus Christ.
Finally grabbing the nearest jar, he placed it carefully in his cart next to the white bread he’d just spent fifteen minutes staring at.
“Excuse me.”
An annoyed voice sounded off to Rhys’s left, and he whirled around to see a woman wearing a sweatshirt with a sequined kitten on it. “You’re taking up almost the whole aisle,” she snapped, glaring at him, “and I’d like to get to the peanut butter, too, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” he muttered, yanking his cart over to one side and enduring her annoyed huff as she grabbed a jar and tossed it inside a cart overflowing with food that would feed an Afghan villager for months.
Asshole.
He flipped her off behind her back as she disappeared around the corner, then shoved his cart in the opposite direction, past endless varieties of ketchup, of mustard. Some insipid music played overhead, which Rhys suddenly realized was the Muzak version of the song he and Devon had danced to the night of the banquet.
A dance that seemed like a lifetime ago.
Making sure his cart was pulled well over to the side of the aisle in case Sequined Kitten happened by, Rhys braced his elbows on the handle and hung his head. What was he even doing here, shopping for food he didn’t want or need?
Anything to avoid his silent phone. After leaving Lani’s apartment, Rhys had snatched it up to call Devon, but just as he was about to punch the button, he stopped.
What if I end up begging her to stay? What if I make her have to choose?
Not trusting himself, and with a monumental effort, he’d put it away. What he needed to do was fade into the background while Devon took these next steps. It was her life, her career, and at this juncture he’d just be in the way. If she called him, well, they’d see where they went from here.
But she didn’t call. And so he’d come to the store.
With a sigh, Rhys straightened from his slouch and trudged his way toward the next aisle over. When he saw what it contained, he gave a giant shudder. Really?
“Well, hey, Chair Force.”
The voice behind him startled him so badly, Rhys gave a decidedly undignified yelp as he spun around, only to trip over his own feet when he saw who it was smiling at him.
“You okay?” Laughing, Devon crossed her arms over her chest and propped her hip against a gaudy display of Pop-Tarts.
“Yeah.” His heart tripping a mile a minute, Rhys shoved his trembling hands in his pockets. “Just having a bit of a Hurt Locker moment here, I think.”
Devon glanced over his shoulder at the cereal aisle behind him, and grimaced. “Life imitating art, I guess.”
She bit her lip as Rhys took a tentative step toward her, then another, at last reaching out to run the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “Hey, soldier girl. What’re you doing here?”
Her eyes crinkled at him. “Looking for you,” she said softly. “You went dark on me.”
“I—”
Words failed him as he suddenly realized how she might have read his silence—as his way of telling her he’d gotten back together with Lani after all.
No!
Panicked, the only thing he could think to do was cup her cheeks in his hands and lean down to kiss her. He didn’t devour her, but kept it gentle, a light caress of his lips on hers. “Love you,” he breathed. “Mean it.”
With a sigh, she melted into him, sliding her arms up around his neck. “Oh, yeah.”
Tilting his head, Rhys dove feverishly into the kiss this time, his senses full of the eagerness of her mouth, the hot slickness of her tongue.
He slid his hands down over her ass cheeks and pulled her even more tightly against him, the smell of her soap, the softness of her hair, about to drive him out of his mind...
“Disgusting. Get a room.”
They broke apart to see Sequined Kitten glaring at them, her lips pressed tightly together.
“Lady...” Rhys started to say, then felt Devon’s cool fingers slide down his arm to link with his.
“Let’s go,” she said, laughing, and they ran out of the store, hand in hand.
The Imperial Beach streets were dark, and quiet, a fine marine layer hanging in the air. They wandered in silence for long minutes, until at last Devon sank down to a curb and pulled him to sit next to her.
Sliding his arm around her, he pulled her close, feeling her heave a sigh before she dropped her head to his shoulder. At last, steeling himself, he whispered, “When do you leave?”
“I’m not.”
It was said so offhandedly that for a moment Rhys wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. “What?”
“My contract is up, Rhys. I’m getting out.”
“You can’t!” When her eyes widened, he rushed on, “I mean, I don’t want you giving up your career for me, oh, my God.”
With a mixture of relief and laughter in her voice, she said, “Slow your roll there, flyboy. I’m not giving up anything for you. My contract was expiring anyway, and in order to join Beck’s ODA, I had to re-up for six years.” She shrugged. “I decided not to.”
“But why? You wanted to go back to Afghanistan, Devon. The women...”
At that, a shadow passed over her face. “You’re right. The women and children there need advocates, there’s no doubt.”
Pulling her close again, he listened as she told him about a woman she’d seen at the Shoppette in Germany.
“Who did she have to talk to, Rhys? Her male commander? A male chaplain? Even if her commander was a woman, sadly, that doesn’t always mean automatic support. Women who’ve achieved command are a lot of times harder on other women than a man would be. ‘I fought to get here. I endured it. Why are you in here complaining to me?’”
Rhys rested his cheek on the top of her head. “So what are your plans?”
“To go back to school. Get my master’s in social work, become a licensed clinical social worker with a specialty in MST.”
Military sexual trauma.
“Combat vets need to talk to other combat vets, Rhys, especially women. Can you imagine sitting in a room with a man who’d never been to war, and having to describe how you were raped...by a man...in a war zone? My sisters-in-arms need someone like me, Rhys, and this is what I want to do.”
His heart full to bursting, all Rhys could do was lift her chin and kiss her thoroughly. When they broke apart, gasping, he asked his other pressing question. “Are you staying here, then? In San Diego?”
With a soft smile, Devon stroked her thumb over his bottom lip. “You know it, baby. Gonna use my GI Bill to enroll in school here. Matt has asked me to live with him and Shane for the time being.” She paused. “He’s been invited to screen for Green Team, Rhys. DEVGRU. He could get a slot at a moment’s notice, and it’ll be a lot easier for him to leave Shane if he knows I’m here helping to drive him to doctors’ and therapy appointments, navigate the VA.”
“Is he going to seek a medical discharge, then?”
“He hasn’t decided yet.” Devon sifted her fingers through Rhys’s hair, which made him want to purr like, well, like a sequined kitten.
“The doctors at Landstuhl warned him he could suffer from debilitating headaches and bouts of vertigo, which doesn’t bode well for a Navy SEAL, does it?”
“Well, good on him for being willing to accept possible limitations,” Rhys replied. “Most of those dudes would staple their blown-off leg back on and just keep fighting. ‘I’m okay!’”
Devon chuckled. “I think in Shane’s case, though, he’s accomplished what he needed to accomplish and laid whatever demons he was fighting to rest, and now it’s time to move on. Kind of like me.”
“Yeah?” Wanting to be closer to her, Rhys pulled her into his lap, loving how sh
e immediately snuggled against him, her arms around his neck. “Tell me.”
Her breath gusted against his throat as she whispered, “I’ve found what I was chasing, Rhys—self-forgiveness, the courage I’d lost, the trust I had taken from me. Now I want to chase happiness.” She brushed her lips over his jaw. “I want it with you, Rhys. I love you.”
Elation, joy and every emotion in between welled up in Rhys’s chest and spilled out in a loud whoop. “Oh, yeah, she loves me!” he shouted into the quiet night, Devon shaking with laughter and trying to shush him.
“So why didn’t you call me?” she demanded as she gave his hair a painful yank. “I figured you were probably in bed with Little Miss Perfect.”
“What? Why didn’t you call me? I figured you were probably on a plane with Major Badass.”
They glared at each other until Devon sighed. “I didn’t want to interrupt you, if that’s what was happening. If she’s what you want—”
“She’s not,” Rhys broke in. “You are. And I didn’t want to hear you telling me you were on your way out. Big baby and coward, right here.” He pointed to himself.
“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure I drove Matt crazy waiting for the phone to ring. When it did, it was Beck reaming my ass for backing out. But in the end he understood, and wishes me well. He’s disappointed, though.”
“Of course he is. You, my darling...” Rhys kissed her nose. “...are the kindest...” A kiss to her cheek. “...the most beautiful...” A kiss to her other cheek. “...the bravest woman I’ve ever met. I can’t wait to spend my life with you.”
He then tilted his head back to the sky to yell, “Fuck off, Beck! She’s mine!”
Devon rolled her eyes. “Okay, caveman. Is that what we’re doing?” She punched her fist in the air. “Fuck off, Lani! He’s mine!”
Shaking with mirth, Rhys lay back on the sidewalk and pulled her down, too, where she stretched out full-length on top of him, her favorite spot. They smiled at each other, Devon’s face in shadow, her hair haloed by moonlight.
Keeping a Warrior Page 26