“I had a few whiskeys but I’m a far cry from an alky.” My husband glares at Suds, apparently deciding he was the culprit.
“We know that, hun.” I try to take his hand but he pulls it away.
“Then what is it? Why’re you here?”
Blake says to Suds. “You start.”
The bodyguard looks about as uncomfortable as Lucky. He unfolds a piece of lined paper pulled from a notepad. “Lucky…”
He clears his throat. “We’ve been through a lot of tough times together, none worse than the week before last. It’s my fault and I’m so fucking sorry. When the building blew up around us, I thought for sure we all were dead but we weren’t, man. We all got out alive. And when the good Lord gives you a second chance, you need to take it. You can’t dwell on what might’ve happened. You got a wife with a bun in the oven. What I wouldn’t give to be in your shoes. Don’t throw it all away, pal. Get your shit together and get some help. And… I love you, man.”
Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Suds sits as Grayson stands. “I can’t fathom what happened to you in Afghanistan but I can relate to how you felt standing in front of the ashes of the Italian restaurant. I wanted to jump in, too.”
He turns and holds Isabella’s hand. “Loving someone is the hardest thing you’ll ever do and I’ve never known you to be a coward. Leaving Callie won’t fix what’s broken in you. Staying is the only thing that will make you whole again.”
He looks at Blake. “That’s all I have.”
Isabella stands. “We’ve only met a few times so I’ll be brief. Gray sent me away at one point when I was in danger. He thought it was the right thing at the time but it wasn’t. A couple is stronger when they stand together.”
Can I go next?” I stand.
Blake nods and with hands shaking, I hold the paper and wait for Lochlan to stop pouting and look at me.
When he does, I begin. “Honey, I’m the one who asked everyone to come here. If nothing else, it will be a goodbye you can remember during your long nights away. I can understand why you want to serve but I’m worried. Why now? I have to assume it’s because of almost losing me. I understand how you feel because it’s what I’m feeling now. If you go, I’m petrified I’ll never see you again. How will I and our little roo go on?”
Tears flow freely and I wipe them away, smudging my paper when I hold it up again. “I’ve felt you slipping away and tried to hold on. I can’t bear you leaving, or worse, dying because of me.” I swallow back a sob. “I love you so much. I’m so, so sorry. I wish we had never met because then you wouldn’t be leaving on account of me.”
I sit back down and sob into my knees. He’s so angry. This isn’t going to work. It’s probably going to make things worse. I totally screwed up.
Lucky curses under his breath beside me and holds me close. “It’s going to be okay. Don’t cry, luv. I promise.”
After that, Jack stands. “Me and Blake went through a lot of shit together. Some asshole kidnapped her when I wasn’t looking but working together, we all got her free. I get how Patten Securities has got to do better at keeping our ladies safe. But you leaving isn’t going to keep her safe, pal. She says she’s not going to stop working for Patten. Now, I’m not going to convince you not to serve. Not my place. However, you should serve for the right reasons. In my mind, you paid your dues. You got a shitload of nightmares to prove it. That’s all I got to say.”
“I appreciate your support.” Lucky gives him an approving nod.
Slate clears his throat from where he leans against the far wall. "Wait. I got something to say.”
His eyes flick to Lucky then down to a typed sheet of paper he unfolds. “Marines are some tough SOB’s and I respect you so I won’t pull any punches. First off, neither Jack nor I picked up on any vibes about the restaurant and we should’ve. However, now, standing right in front of you, my ears are itching, buddy. You won’t make it if you go back to that God-awful war, a war that can never be won.”
Pacing the middle of the room, Slate continues. “Listen up. I dove under a freakin' subway train to save Lilac, Izzy never gave up searching for Gray when he was washed out to sea, and Jack went undercover to rescue Blake. That's what family does. We don’t fucking run off. Like Jack said, you've paid your dues and got a shitload of nightmares to prove it. Don't break up our team, Loch. You don't have to go overseas to prove you're worthy. You and Suds have pulled off miracles and without you, Patten is less. Stay put, get better, and protect your beautiful wife and daughter.
He coughs into the paper. “I fucking love you, brother."
A long, silence follows as he strides out onto the deck.
“Coffee anyone?” Mel points to the granite-topped kitchen island.
“Wait. I want to say something.” Slate adds his heartfelt words and I cry but Loch mutters under his breath. “Thank fook.”
Shit, this wasn’t what I expected.
Chapter 23
Lochlan
Before I can grab the car keys and get the fook out of this shit show, Sienna, Andy’s wife, takes out her guitar. When she sings about being broken, about being someone who doesn’t see the light, I can’t take any more. I stand, topple the bar stool, and storm out of the room.
By the ocean, I kick off my sandals, toss off my shirt, and almost forget to take out my wallet. Then, I swim until it stops hurting.
When I finish, I’m out of breath but the hard knot in my chest loosens. My wife is sitting on my clothes, looking more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her.
I should be angry at her for putting me through crap but she loves me and her heart is in the right place.
Trying not to drip on her, I sit on the sand and put my hand atop hers.
“You mad?” she asks.
“Maybe. It was kind of a dirty trick.” Sand warms between my toes as I curl them deeper.
Her eyes capture me and for the first time I notice the dark circles under them. “I was desperate. I don’t want to lose you.”
“I really am a bloody wanker.” I’ve been so wrapped up in my own pain, I haven’t noticed hers.
She frowns and lowers her gaze. “Not really.”
“Yeah, I put you through hell. Damn. This proves what I’ve been saying. I’m no good for you. You’ll be better off without me.”
“Suicide by enlisting? Is that it, Lucky? I thought better of you.” She’s crying again but there’s nothing I can do.
I think back on the intervention. “That’s what everyone thinks, eh?”
“Are we wrong, Lochlan?”
“Maybe not.” I shrug, not wanting to admit it to her or myself, not yet.
“Will you hang out for a while with me? Take a vacation? Think about it?”
“I don’t know.” I can’t make decisions right now. My soul is scraped raw and every breath I take hurts like hell. Nightmares dance on the ocean’s mist, right below the surface.
“I love you, Loch, so much.” She feels so right as she tucks herself to my chest with an arm around my waist.
I’m fucking everything up. “I love you, too.”
“Blake is waiting for you inside, if you want to talk.” She bites her lower lip, “Or… we can find someone else.”
Being married to Jack, maybe she might recognize what I’m going through. “I’ll go but I’m not promising anything, Callie.”
“I’m not asking for promises, only this one moment.”
“Okay, then.” I stand. “Where is the good doctor?”
“In the house, top floor living room. You’ll have all the time and privacy you need.”
I stand and stare back at the house. I went through this therapy shit before and it didn’t work. I’m damn sure I don’t want to dredge up the past, again. However, my lovely wife looks so hopeful, I don’t want to disappoint so I trudge through the sand and back into Gray’s house.
I go up the deck stairs and poke my head into the now empty living room. “Blake? Doctor Taylor? It’s me, Loch
lan.”
When she doesn’t answer, I heave out a sigh. I can tell my wife I tried.
“Come in.” Blake steps forward from behind the fireplace and smiles with both hands forward which I take and quickly let go.
“So glad to see you. Sit, sit.” She motions to a comfy lounge chair then relaxes with her legs folded on the couch. “You don’t have to look at me like that. Pretend we’re hanging out, having a beer. You can grab one out of the fridge, if you like.”
I ease down into the leather chair, uncomfortable as hell. “Nah thanks. I need to slow down.”
Her brows raise. “And why is that?”
“Let’s make a deal, you don’t ask me questions you already have answers to.” Suds must’ve told her I’ve been drinking too much lately.
She smiles. “Okay, I know you’ve been drinking, we all do, but not why.”
“I would think it pretty obvious, yeah? My pregnant wife almost got blown up. I was supposed to be guarding her.”
“I thought Suds was on duty?”
“Sure, but I had on a comm, too. I was watching. We both were.”
“And Grayson and Slate? Did they investigate the restaurant where the party was being held?”
“Sure, they did.”
“And vetted it for possible risks?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“So, the fact these terrorists were able to penetrate Patten’s famous security is all your fault?” She tilts her head, making some kind of point.
It pisses me off she’s right. “They all sent their wives someplace safe, like I did. So, why am I being singled out? Get the other blokes in here.”
“Why do you think everyone staged an intervention?”
I stand. “I don’t fucking know!” All this pent-up anger erupts and I shout, “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Did you hear anything anyone read?”
“Actually, not so much. I was too busy being embarrassed to shit.”
She hands me my wife’s paper. “Read it again.”
I do. “It says she doesn’t want me to reenlist.”
“No Lochlan, she’s fine with you reenlisting. She doesn’t want you to die and if you don’t deal with some of your nightmares, you’re going to get yourself killed. Not only that, those in your charge will die as well.”
A flicker of my fog at the edge of my peripheral vision comes to life and dead bodies lie on the road, in front of my chair. Children in the school bus cry. I squeeze my eyes shut and they disappear.
“Tell me what you saw.”
My heart races. “I tried therapy, right after I got done with my last tour. It didn’t fix anything.”
“It’s not supposed to.” She smiles. “It’s not even supposed to make things easier.”
“Then why are you here?”
“To help you cope.”
“I’m doing fine.”
“Are you, Lucky?”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair, feeling more like a rebellious teen than a fucking grown-ass adult. “Since my wife almost… the explosion, I’ve had a few more nightmares than usual. Who wouldn’t? I’m not crazy.”
“Whoa… No one thinks you’re crazy.” She smiles all friendly-like but I’m not buying it.
“Don’t you? Isn’t it why you all ganged up on me? Help the poor vet who’s gone off his rock-ah?”
“Angry?”
“Yeah, I’m pissed. What kind of friends stage a bloody intervention?”
“Friends don’t, Lucky. We’re family and we all care about you, about Callie.”
At the mention of my wife, I stand and pace. “She’ll be fine.”
“Will she, Lucky? If you reenlist? How do you see it playing out?”
“I’ll work and she’ll go back to teaching at MIT or some other muckety-muck uni. Eventually, she’ll get tired of waiting for me and find some other bloke, a yank more near her station in life.”
“So, you’re expecting your wife to cheat on you?” When she puts it that way, it doesn’t sound so likely.
“Yeah, nah. I guess not.”
“Has she mentioned wanting to teach? That she doesn’t like her job with Patten?”
“I think she hired on to be with me.”
“Did you ask her?”
“Don’t have to.”
“Would you like to hear what she told me?”
I shrug. “I suppose you’re going to tell me, no matter what I say.”
“She said she hated working for MIT. Hated grading papers, lecturing, and making lesson plans. The only part she enjoyed was the research lab to which Grayson gives her unlimited access.”
I smile. “That does sound like her.”
“Has she any experience being the wife of a military man?”
“Nah. But after a while, women adapt. It’s the way of things.”
“And you’re okay, only seeing your baby when on leave? Maybe a few weeks a year.”
“Somebody needs to stop terrorists from coming into our bloody country and blowing up buildings. It’s hard, but we need to stop them, yeah? What if everyone takes the easy way out?” I stand. “This is over. I’m done here. Thanks, doc. Send me your bill.”
I head down the stairs and stride past my wife. “Going for a run, luv.”
“Hold on…” She tries to keep up with me and follows me up and over the dune. “Lucky, God damn it, stop!”
Her rare cursing makes me turn. “What?”
“I’m sorry but I don’t have the faintest clue how to deal.”
“So, you unman me in front of me mates, eh? Christ, Calliope. Don’t you know me at all?”
“I guess not.” Big tears drip down her cheeks and my fucking heart cracks.
“Do you want to call it off?” she asks.
“Of course, I do.” I’m done with this intervention.
“Okay. I’ll find a lawyer.” She turns on a heel. “I won’t contest. You’ll have all the visitation rights you want, when you get leave.”
“What. The. Hell. Callie! No!” I grab her shoulder.
“You don’t want to see the baby, either?”
“Fuck. Callie. I don’t want a fucking divorce. I want to call off therapy. Not us. Have things got so bad between us?” Holy shit, I had no idea.
She drops onto the sand and stares out at the ocean. “I’m so, so, sorry. This is all my fault. I was just trying to help. I love you so much. I don’t want you to get killed.”
“What makes you think I will? You have so little faith in me?”
“I read online how guys with PTSD get distracted. They don’t sleep good. Did you tell your old CO how bad it’s gotten?”
“I got it under control.”
Her brows raise. “Walk with me.” She stands and puts her hand out to me.
I see her form under her pink dress and all I want to do is forget everything and make love until the fog goes away.
“Where do you go, when the dreams come during the day?”
The fog creeps closer. “I had a close call in the desert. A lot of my pals died that day.”
I walk through the dead bodies washing up on the ocean, blank eyes accusing me. That’s a new one.
“Same dream?” Her feet make marks in the bloody sand.
“Variations of it.” I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping when I open them, the visions will be gone.
“Lucky?”
I hear her calling but I can’t stop now. There’s a busload of crying babies to unload. So many. The enemy comes with rapid fire weapons and I drop to my knees. Then, the restaurant blows apart, along with the bus, and everyone is dead, except me.
When I open my eyes, I’m on my knees as the ocean laps at my legs and she is too. Her arms wrap around me with my cheek on her bosom.
She kisses the top of my head like I’m a little kid. “Can you tell me where you were?”
“Part war, part the baby shower in the city. Everyone dies except me.” I whisper the words, for fear the fog will hear and engulf me forever. “
There’s a bus full of babies and no matter how hard I try, I can’t save them.”
Suds rushes along the shore and sits in the water next to us. “Was it bad?”
“Bad enough.” I scoot back from a large wave and motion the others to do the same.
On dry land, Callie turns to me, “What happened that day, Lucky?”
“I was driving, hit an IED, and the truck blew up. Me and Suds were thrown clear. Everyone else died.”
Suds shakes his head back and forth. “Not quite right, pal. Remember? A woman carrying a baby jumped in front.”
While I try to envision the scene, Suds turns to Callie. “Lucky barely avoided hitting them and veered. Then all hell broke loose. It was a trap. Insurgents approached so he backed the fuck up. That’s when the Hummer’s rear wheel hit an IED. The rest of our crew didn’t make it, neither did the woman and child.”
Callie holds my hand. “That must’ve been so awful.”
Standing, I brush the sand off my ass. “I forgot all about the kid.”
Suds does the same and slaps me on the back. “It was a little girl, not just a kid. Think about it Lucky. Probably hit closer to home than you realize. Don’t know why you would want reenlist, pal. You’re a bigger man than me.”
I reach my hand to help my large wife to her feet. Then, the three of us walk along the beach, the steady beat of the ocean healing me. The fog at the edge of my vision sinks into the mist made by the waves.
“Bad guys are always out there, waiting to use women and children. Always have been, always will be. The bible talks about some asshole killing a whole lot of babies to get at the Christ child.” Suds shrugs, a bit embarrassed and I raise a brow.
“I had no idea you were religious, mate.”
“Twelve years of bible school. I don’t remember much but the flight to Egypt story stuck.” He shakes his head as if dispelling some long-forgotten memory, then winks. “I’ll catch up with y’all later.
Chapter 24
Calliope
We walk in silence for a while but something in Lucky has changed for the better. His shoulders seem further from his ears and his stance less likely to spring into action. Even though his eyes dart about for danger, his pace slows, more like a guy on vacation.
Lucky II (Patten Bodyguards Book 6) Page 10