Rev (Jack 'Em Up #4)

by Shauna Allen

  That seemed to appease her and she finally hung up. In a spare moment, I checked my email and found one from the college. A thrill raced up my spine along with a healthy dose of fear as I contemplated this new venture. It would be the first time I’d done something simply for myself since leaving Nolan. The thought was exhilarating. I wanted it so bad.

  I made notes of the supply and book list and start date for the online class. I was still grinning when my cell buzzed with a text.

  Your truck is done. New starter and refilled fluids. Key in glovebox . . . figured its safe in police station parking lot.

  I leapt up and raced to the front windows. Sure enough, there was my truck. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought he washed it, too. My heart melted at his thoughtfulness.

  Thank you so much, I typed back. How much do I owe you?

  Somehow, I knew what he’d say before he replied. Nothing.

  I rolled my eyes and plopped back into my chair. Knock it off, Micah. I know starters aren’t free . . . how much?

  Nothing for several minutes. I didn’t think he was going to answer. Then, my phone buzzed with a reply. I snatched it up, read his response. Froze. Reread.

  Dinner?

  My stomach tied itself up into about a hundred tiny knots. He was asking me out?

  A date? I managed with trembling fingers.

  A date, he confirmed.

  Holyshit Holyshit Holyshit. I peeked up as if searching for someone to verify I wasn’t dreaming. How could this possibly be?

  Is that a no?

  I realized I’d waited too long to answer, and with my fingers on fire, I typed back a quick NO!

  Shit.

  I meant no, it’s not a no, I added, feeling like an idiot. It’s a yes.

  Nothing.

  YES! : ) I added to be sure he understood my gibberish.

  I thought I would throw up the longer it took him to reply. I was making great leaps in overcoming my sordid past, but it killed me that maybe I’d blown it so soon.

  Sorry . . . customer came in, he finally sent. Then, Dinner? Tuesday night after class?

  In case you missed it, YES. : )

  ; )

  I floated through the rest of my day like a swoony schoolgirl. Micah had actually, finally, asked me out. Holy Wow.

  I couldn’t wait to tell the girls. On my way out to my truck after work, I pulled my phone from my purse to text Delilah. With a grin, I slid in and opened the glovebox for my key. I started the engine and pulled up my cousin’s number to text her.

  Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of something red. I glanced up and the phone dropped from my hand.

  A blood red rose was trapped beneath my passenger side windshield wiper. My hand flew to my mouth as bile rose up my throat at the immediate, visceral memory.

  I unlocked my front door and stepped inside with my hand unconsciously lifted to the bruises still on my neck. Locking up behind myself, I moved to the dining room and froze.

  A dozen deep, dark red roses sat on my table, their eerie color nearly black. The hair on my arms stood to attention.

  “You’re home.” His quiet, angry words whispered up my backbone like the tip of a blade.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Slowly, I pivoted to face him. A sliver of satisfaction hit me at the scratch marks still fresh on his face. “What are you doing here, Nolan? How did you get inside?”

  I stepped back as he took one step in my direction. “Don’t you worry about that.” His gaze fixed on the flowers behind me. “I wanted to apologize. Things got out of hand the other night.”

  “Out of hand? You tried to kill me.”

  “Never.” He moved closer, trapping me next to the table that held the roses. “Do you like my gift?”

  Inhuman light glinted in his eyes like a rabid animal. I knew then that I had to get away.

  If I didn’t, I would die.

  I didn’t die, but that was the last time he touched me in anger. I survived his rage then raced out of the apartment with only the clothes on my back and my purse. I drove blindly, not sure how I was supposed to salvage my life. But I had, bit by bit, and I’d be damned if I’d let anyone hurt me again.

  I jumped out of the truck and yanked the rose off the window. I glanced around with my heart in my throat. No one.

  I swallowed the nerves. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Micah could’ve left it when he dropped off the truck. Or Officer Varga might’ve been trying to be sweet. There could be any number of explanations.

  Anything besides Nolan finding me in the sanctuary of Baybridge.

  Micah

  “How the hell are ya, Christian?” Sergeant Dempsey clasped me into a tight hug and slapped my back.

  He’d called not long after I dropped off Jewel’s truck, and we met at a diner not far from the shop, that just so happened to serve the best burgers in town. I looked my old friend up and down, noting how the years seemed to have aged him. Gray was now peppered through his hair and light crinkles webbed out from the corners of his eyes when he smiled. He was only a couple years older than me, but it might as well have been decades with the combat he’d seen. I knew better than most how that could affect a man, and he was no exception.

  “I’m good, Sarg. You?”

  “Can’t complain.”

  We settled into a booth and ordered lunch then he filled me in on his life and upcoming fishing trip. Sounded like he needed a break. Two more tours in the sandbox then the loss of his wife in a car accident two months after he separated from the Marines.

  “Man, I’m so sorry,” I said. “I had no idea.”

  “Yeah, well . . .” He toyed with the salt and pepper shakers in front of us. “Not many people did.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, but thankfully, he changed the subject to some of our old buddies. “I ran into Asher a couple months ago when he was home on leave.”

  I smiled. “How’s Creed doing?”

  “Still tough as ever. I think those Special Ops guys are still trying to recruit him out of the Rangers.”

  “Huh.” I thought of the serious Sergeant Creed. A huge guy with a serious love for his family and his country, he and his team had saved our asses more than once in the Kandahar Province. A true badass, I could see why the Delta Force would want him.

  “So . . .” He smiled at the waitress when she dropped off our drinks. “I wanted to tell you I wrote to Martinez and Franks’ families.”

  My eyes flew up as my stomach sank. “You did?”

  “I did.”

  “Why?” I could think of nothing more painful than talking to the families of the brothers who were dead because of me.

  “It was time, man. You might want to do the same. It might ease some of your burden.”

  Only Wyatt Dempsey understood that burden. How could he even suggest I open that wound again? I shook my head and looked away.

  He said nothing else about it as we ate, but his words were burning a hole in my gut. Suddenly, the pain I’d run so far from was up close and personal and I was struggling to focus. I tried to listen as he talked all around the elephant in the diner, throwing in appropriate responses when called for. These past years since the war, I’d learned the art of faking social niceties, but I was getting the feeling he saw right through me.

  Finally, we stood to leave after settling the bill. As nice as it was to see my old friend, I was anxious to be alone. To cope with the ball of emotion he’d stirred up in me.

  Outside, he extended his hand. “Thanks for meeting me, Micah. I hope we can do it again.”

  I accepted his shake. “Absolutely.”

  I watched him slip into his rental and fire up his GPS to get directions to the hotel where he was meeting his dad. He peered back up at me, his face deathly serious. “Think about what I said. I’ll shoot you an email with the family addresses.” He turned away. “If not for yourself, do it for them. They’d want you to.”

  I nodded once, knowing he meant our fallen
brothers. I just couldn’t believe they’d want anything like peace for me.

  Dempsey drove away and I immediately headed for the gym. I needed to work out some of this emotion, not to mention the cheeseburger I just ate.

  JD greeted me with a sweaty smile as he jogged a rapid clip on the treadmill. Other than him, the receptionist, and three other people working out, the gym was quiet. Just the way I liked it. I changed into my workout clothes and started with a quick warm-up on the treadmill next to JD.

  He tipped his head to me in acknowledgment as he focused on his breathing. I plugged my earbuds in and started working on a sweat.

  Thirty minutes on the treadmill, thirty with weights, and forty sparring with JD, and I was finally feeling the buzz of endorphins. I rolled my neck as I bounced on the balls of my feet and began to cool off. I swear, if I didn’t have this, I would’ve been insane a long time ago.

  Air like a furnace smacked me in the face as I stepped outside into the bright sunshine. The streets were at a crawl for a hot summer afternoon. Everyone had probably headed south to the beach. As I climbed into my Jeep, I couldn’t help but wonder what Jewel was doing with the rest of her day.

  I decided to find out. I shot her a quick text. The truck OK now?

  Her reply came ten minutes later, just as I was letting myself into my apartment. It is. Thx

  I poured myself a big glass of water and moved to my bedroom. How was ur day?

  I yanked off my T-shirt and grabbed clean stuff for a shower. I kept glancing at my phone, waiting for her reply. It suddenly dawned on me that I’d never been this anxious to talk to anyone. Ever.

  Fine

  I frowned at her answer. Something niggled my mind. We weren’t exactly a chatty pair, but her to-the-point answers just weren’t like the Jewel I’d been coming to know.

  You sure?

  Yes

  That was it. I slid my finger across the screen and dialed her.

  “Hello?” Her voice gave her away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

  “You don’t sound like yourself.” I moved to the bathroom and yanked down a clean towel.

  “You got all that from a ‘hello’?”

  “And your texts.”

  She was silent several seconds. “I’m fine.”

  I sighed. “Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, I get it. Believe me, I do. But my intuition is kicking my ass here. I think something’s wrong and I wanna help if I can.”

  “Did you leave a rose on my truck window?”

  My frown deepened. “No.”

  I heard her suck in a breath. “Didn’t think so.”

  “Why?” Stupid question. Jewel was a beautiful, single woman. Of course some guy would leave her roses. Probably flirt with her and ask her out and do all the normal things I couldn’t.

  “No reason. I just don’t like surprises.” Her voice trembled the tiniest bit. She probably thought she was hiding it well, but in my silence, I’d become attuned to other people’s subtleties.

  “Are you at home?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wait for me. I’m coming over.” I hung up before she could reply, totally shocked at my own words. I was never forceful or bossy, and I definitely never pushed people into things they didn’t want, but something unseen was propelling me on.

  I showered and dressed in jogging pants and a plain T-shirt then shoved my feet into my tennis shoes and hightailed it to Jewel’s. I made one pit stop on the way, but I still made it in under thirty.

  She opened the door and stared at me like she hadn’t really expected me to come. I perused her from head to toe. She was in short shorts, a tank top that matched her eyes, and bare feet with bright blue polish on her toes. Remembering myself, I thrust the bundle of lilies toward her.

  She glanced down then back up to me without taking them.

  “You said you don’t like surprises. When I give you flowers, you’ll know who they come from.”

  She finally accepted my offering. “Thank you. They’re beautiful. How did you know I loved lilies?”

  “I didn’t. They suit you. Plus, you don’t strike me as a rose kinda girl.”

  She flinched, but pulled herself together quickly. “Would you like to come in?”

  “I’ve got one better. Come for a ride with me?”

  Her hesitation was brief. “Sure,” she finally said. “Just a sec.” She spun away, leaving the door open.

  I watched her put the flowers in a vase with water then she grabbed her purse and slid on some flip-flops.

  “Your brother still here? I’m not keeping you from family time, am I?”

  She grinned. “No. He left this morning. Time to get back to the real world.”

  I didn’t ask about that as I led her to the Jeep. I rolled the windows down as I cruised toward the beach. Whenever I felt overwhelmed, nature seemed to ease my mind. I hoped it would do the same for her.

  She slipped on sunglasses and let the wind whip through her hair with a smile. I parked along the seawall and we began walking. I took her hand to help her step over the small stone wall that led to the sand and never let go. She didn’t seem to mind as we strolled along, the waves rushing to our left. Salt and children’s laughter tinged the air.

  At a high spot, Jewel tugged me to a stop and sat on the sand, her face to the sun. “This is nice. Thank you.”

  I leaned back on my hands and stared at her profile. How she’d stayed single all this time was totally beyond me.

  “You wanna talk about it?”

  She rolled her head to face me. “Not really.”

  I glanced toward the water. If anyone understood keeping shit to yourself, it was me. “If you ever change your mind, I’m here.”

  She leaned her head on my shoulder. “I appreciate it.”

  I let my cheek rest on the top of her head as we shared the moment. Nothing fancy. No eloquent words, no big overtures or revelations. Just two people enjoying the day for what it was. Fleeting.

  We sat there for a long time, until the sun started to sink behind the water, painting the sky a brilliant purple. She shifted and settled herself to lie in my lap. I sat up and threaded my fingers through her golden hair, letting the silky strands caress my skin.

  As the first star began to shine, she rolled to peer up at me.

  No words.

  Our eyes spoke for us.

  There was something here.

  Something new.

  Something exhilarating.

  Something I’d never experienced before.

  Something scary as hell.

  I wasn’t sure I was cut out for anything that she might need or want of me, but I found myself wanting to try. More than anything I’d ever wanted before.

  Fuck it.

  I leaned down and took her mouth with mine. I tasted the seam of her lips with my tongue and she opened to me like I’d unlocked her with a key. Her fingers raked through my hair as she drug me closer, stealing my breath.

  I couldn’t get enough of her and the sweetness that seemed to ooze from every pore. She was intoxicating and so damn innocent. I ran my hand up her hip and waist, finally touching the curves that filled my fantasies.

  “God,” I whispered against her lips. “You’re so perfect.”

  I felt her tense up and her hands fell from me. I pressed one last kiss to her bottom lip then met her eyes. The pain and doubt I found there slayed me. “One day you’ll let me in,” I vowed in a promise born of my newfound determination to know this woman. “One day you’ll believe me.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed as if she couldn’t bear to look at me.

  I sat back and found her balled up fist in the sand and interlocked our fingers. Her face relaxed but she still didn’t open her eyes.

  I couldn’t explain it, but I suddenly found myself desperate to have her open up to me. I just didn’t know how to make that happen or why it was so important to me. I watched a young c
ouple stroll past, their arms wrapped around each other as they grinned and stole a kiss. What I wouldn’t give to have something so easy, to relinquish this baggage that dragged me down.

  As if she read my mind, Jewel’s eyes slid open and she met my gaze. “I trust you,” she said softly. “I’m just scared.”

  “Scared of what?”

  She rolled to sit and face the ocean again. “Of being hurt. It’s hard . . .”

  I understood better than she knew. “I’ve hurt too many people in my life and I’ve vowed to never do it again. I won’t hurt you, Jewel. I swear it.”

  “You can’t promise that.”

  “Yes, I can.” Then, I did the other thing I vowed to never do. I began talking.

  I told her about Afghanistan. The suffocating heat, the rugged beauty, the hills that were scary as shit because we all knew the Taliban were hiding in caves we couldn’t see. I told her about my job in the tank and the friendships I’d made. About Juan Martinez and Johnny Franks, and Sarg, and Asher Creed. The brotherhood born of war. I stopped short of telling her about the blood on my hands. I just wasn’t strong enough.

  Her eyes glistened with tears as my words tapered off. She lifted her hand and brushed moisture from my cheek. I hadn’t realized that my words would begin trickling out in liquid pain, and I hated myself for the weakness. I hated myself for so many reasons.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be sorry. I couldn’t stand that.”

  “Have you told anyone else about this?”

  I shook my head.

  “Not even your military friends? A psychologist? No one?”

  I thought of my straight-laced, unemotional shrink. Yeah, no. “The people who need to know were there with me.”

  “Why now? Why me?”

  I spoke truth as I knew it in that moment, recklessly giving her what I had, even if it made me bleed. “I don’t know.”

  Jewel

  I couldn’t believe Micah was telling me all of this. I could probably count on both hands the number of times he’d talked to me these past couple of years . . . until these past few weeks. Something in him had changed, and as happy as I was about that, it made me a bit wary. My own trust issues were to blame, I knew.