Between Here and the Horizon

by Callie Hart

  I tore at his shirt, wrestling it over his head, and then my hands were frantically pulling at his belt buckle, trying to unfasten it. Sully took over; he made quick work of the belt, ripping it from his belt loops entirely and flinging it over his shoulder onto the back seat. I unbuttoned his pants and shimmied them down his body, trying not to gasp when I tugged his jeans down over his hips and his erection sprang free.

  “Damn it,” I murmured under my breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Sully panted.

  “I want to ride you so hard, Sully. I need to feel you inside me right now. But I want you in my mouth, too. I want to make you come so hard. I want to taste you. I want to swallow you. But I want to feel you coming inside me as well.”

  Sully groaned, head falling back against the car seat. “God, I can’t even take you talking to me like that. You’re gonna kill me, girl.”

  I flicked the end of my tongue over the tip of his cock, shivering with pleasure. “Which would you prefer?” I asked. My voice was raspy and filled with desire. Sully reached his hand between our bodies, down, in between my legs, and yanked my jeans open. His teeth were bared, his eyes burning, on fire.

  “Oh, we’re doing both, Lang. We are doing both.” He took a handful of my hair and pulled on it—gently enough that it didn’t hurt, but hard enough that I knew where he wanted me. He thrust up into my mouth, lowering my head down on him at the same time, and his cock slid all the way to the back of my throat. At the same time, he began working the fingers of his other hand against my pussy, rubbing small circles against my clit through my panties.

  “Shit, you’re so wet,” he panted. “You really want me, don’t you? God, I can feel how badly you want me.”

  I could feel how badly he wanted me, too. He was getting harder and harder by the second. I worked my tongue over him, from the base of his cock to the very tip, and Sully bucked underneath me, his breath quickening until he was almost hyperventilating.

  “Fuck, Lang. Oh god. Oh shit. I’m gonna come. Baby, I’m gonna—”

  Light suddenly shone through the truck window, bouncing around the inside of the vehicle. Sully reacted so quickly, it took a second for me to figure out what was going on. He wasn’t coming. He was pushing me off him and grabbing his t-shirt, trying to cover me up with it.

  “Sully Fletcher, you dog, you.” Someone was standing at the car window on the driver’s side, peering in through the glass. They had a flashlight in their hand, and they were pointing it directly at us. “That you, Miss Lang? Good to see you again.” I recognized the voice but couldn’t place it. I was too busy scrambling, trying to get dressed. Sully was red in the face, yanking his jeans back up his body, swearing under his breath.

  In the space of five seconds, we’d gone from on the brink of fucking to Sully kicking the truck door open and jumping out of the vehicle, his chest bare, roaring at the top of his lungs. “Hinchliffe, you motherfucker. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Hinchliffe? Hinchliffe. Oh, no. The cop that showed up after I reported Ronan’s death? Lord have mercy. My own shirt was nowhere to be seen, so I grabbed Sully’s and threw it on, quickly climbing out of the car after him. Hinchliffe was in uniform, flashlight still gripped in his hand. Sully had him by the throat, and was about to punch him square in the face.

  “Sully! Stop!” I ran through the snow, grabbing hold of the arm he had raised and pulled back, ready to strike. The moment I touched him, Sully let go, snarling under his breath.

  “What the fuck are you doing, man?” he hissed, shoving Hinchliffe. “You’re spying on people making out in cars now?”

  Hinchliffe spat on the floor, rubbing at his neck. “I’m a police officer, Sully. Fuck, man, sex in public is an offence. And so is assaulting a cop. I could write you up right now if I wanted.”

  “You’re gonna arrest me?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then what’s the point in writing me up? Fucking pathetic, dude.”

  “Whatever. You’d better get out of here before I call for backup.”

  Sully barked out laughter. “Backup? You mean Caruthers?”

  “Let’s just go, Sully.” I threaded my fingers through his and squeezed. I knew we were safe from another explosion of rage when he squeezed back. Turning to me, he gave me a small smile, but I could tell he was still fizzing with anger.

  His dark gaze remained fixed and locked on me. “All right,” he said. “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.”

  Hinchliffe grumbled after us as we both got back in the car. Sully climbed into the driver seat, still simmering, and grabbed hold of the steering wheel, gripping it tight. “I’m sorry. Fuck. I shouldn’t have lost it like that. I just—the thought of him seeing you naked…”

  “I doubt he saw anything at all,” I told him. “The windows were too steamed up.”

  Sully turned to me, face very serious, and his sober expression broke into amusement. His head rocked back, his eyes closed and he laughed. “Jesus, they were pretty fogged up, huh? Damn it. You’ve turned me into a teenager, Lang.” He started the truck, gunning the engine so the tires spun, kicking up snow, and we burned out of there, leaving Hinchliffe on the side of the road.

  When we got back to the lighthouse, I fully intended on picking up exactly where we’d left off before we’d been so rudely interrupted. My phone started ringing in my purse before I could even slip out of Sully’s t-shirt, though. Once upon a time I might have ignored the call, but not now I was responsible for two children; I couldn’t afford to pick and choose which calls I answered and which ones I didn’t. I picked up without looking at the caller ID, keen to get the call over so Sully and I could focus on each other again. Sully ran his hands over my shoulders, down my back, kissing at my neck as I spoke into the cell phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Ophelia? Oh, thank goodness, honey. Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for hours.”

  It was Mom. Her voice was strained, frantic, and she was running her words together, speaking so fast I could hardly understand her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear my phone. What is it? What’s wrong? Mom? Are you there?”

  A choked sob crackled down the line. “Oh, honey. It’s your father. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but he’s dead.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Consequences

  Heart attack.

  He’d gotten up early in the morning and gone down to the pier with his fishing gear. Mom had kissed him on the cheek and told him to be back by midday, which he hadn’t done. She’d stewed for most of the afternoon, ready to chew him out when he got home for not coming to help with lunch service at the restaurant, and then by four she’d begun to get worried. He wasn’t answering his phone. She’d walked down to the pier, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  That’s when she’d called the police, and they’d told her what had happened. He’d grabbed at his chest and toppled over the railings into the water at nine in the morning. Two other men had jumped in after him, trying to save him, but he’d disappeared into the water and was nowhere to be found.

  At two in the afternoon, his body had washed up onto the shore five hundred feet down the beach, out toward El Segundo. Three skaters found his body first, but they didn’t call for help. They went through his pockets, looking for anything of value. A woman walking her dogs on the strand had chased them off and called for the police. Dad’s wallet, his wedding ring and the Saint Christopher he always wore around his neck were gone, so the police had no means of identifying him until Mom called the station to report him missing.

  “God, I am so sorry, O. Is there anything I can do to help?” Rose was fussing around me in the kitchen, offering to make tea, coffee, sandwiches, anything to try and make me feel better. There was nothing to be done though. I wasn’t going to be feeling better any time soon.

  “Thanks, Rose. Really, it’s okay. I just need to get back home as quickly as I can. Can you watch the children? I don’t know how long I�
��ll be gone for.” Taking them with me was out of the question. And the thought of leaving Mom when she needed me most was difficult to comprehend, too. Rose rubbed my shoulder reassuringly.

  “You don’t even need to ask. They’ll be just fine here with me. I’m owed about three years’ worth of vacation time anyway. You take as long as you need.”

  It was dawn. The sun was rising up over the lip of the ocean, and I was waiting on the dock for Jerry, the boatman, to arrive when Sully’s truck came speeding up over the hill toward the parking lot. He’d driven me back to The Big House last night and kissed me long and hard, telling me to call him in the morning when I knew what was happening. He parked the truck and locked it up, then came running down the boat launch, a bag slung over his shoulder and a grim look on his face.

  “You didn’t call. You were just going to leave?”

  Guilt rocked me. I couldn’t stand the hurt look on his face. “I’m sorry, Sully. But what was I supposed to do? I can’t just ask you to drop everything and get on a plane with me across the other side of the country.”

  He shook his head, frowning. “You are everything, silly girl. I’m not letting you go through this alone.”

  I burst into tears. It was the only response I could manage. For the past twelve hours I’d been trying to keep it together, telling myself I could be strong for Mom, that I’d be able to make my way back to California without breaking down in the airport or on the plane, but I wouldn’t have been able to. I needed him. I needed Sully so badly, but I’d been too afraid to ask. Now that he was here, scolding me for not leaning on him, the relief I felt was just too much.

  He crushed me to him, running his hand over my hair, whispering softly to me, soothing me while I cried. I buried my face into his dark sweater, sobbing, taking comfort in his warmth and the rich smell of him. “Shh, Lang. Don’t worry. I’m here. I’m gonna take care of you, baby.”

  Hearing him say those words was enough. I could get through the next twenty-four hours if he was by my side. And I could get through the following twenty-four hours after that. The days and the months that came next were a mystery, but I got the feeling I’d be okay if Sully was around to strengthen and support me.

  Jerry arrived at just after seven. Sully booked an extra plane ticket on his phone as we crossed back to the mainland, and by the time we reached the airport everything was in order. The plane back to L.A. was practically empty, and Sully and I had three seats to ourselves. I lay out with my head in his lap, his hand softly brushing my hair over and over for most of the flight, and I tried to sleep. I couldn’t manage it, though.

  LAX was just a short car ride from Manhattan Beach and the place where I’d grown up. Where my dad had taught me to drive. To fish. To cook. To become a responsible adult in the world. How could he be gone? How could he be dead? My heart was aching so fiercely as we disembarked from the plane that it felt like it would never be whole again.

  Sully took my single bag from me and carried it down the concourse, holding me to him tightly. “It’s going to be okay, Lang,” he said into my hair. “I promise. It may not feel like it right now, but everything is going to be okay.”

  “Captain Fletcher? Captain Sully Fletcher?”

  To our right, a group of men were fast approaching, dressed in full military gear. I was so surprised they knew Sully’s name that it took me a long moment to process what happened next. Sully stiffened next to me, coming to a stop as the five men cut us off.

  “Yes. I’m Sully Fletcher. Not a captain anymore, though. I’ve been out of the military for a long time now.”

  The soldier at the front of the group stepped forward. There was a hard, cold look in his eye that made me instantly nervous, though I couldn’t tell why. “You’re going to have to come with us, sir,” he snapped.

  “What for?” Sully’s face was devoid of all emotion. He seemed suddenly as though he was made out of stone.

  “You’re under arrest,” the soldier said. “For impersonating a commissioned officer in the U.S. Army.” The men gathered around Sully, pulling at him, taking both his bag as well as mine from him, turning him around so they could handcuff him.

  “What? What the hell is going on, Sully? Tell them! Tell them they’ve made a mistake!”

  Sully didn’t say a word, though. He looked stunned, but at the same time there was an air of resignation to him that scared me half to death. “Sully? Sully, tell me what’s going on.” The soldiers took him by the arms on both sides and began to march him off down the concourse without giving me a second thought.

  “Hey! Hey, tell me what the hell is going on!” I grabbed the closest soldier, trying to get him to stop, to explain this madness to me, but he ripped his arm away. Spinning around, he drew himself up to his full height and barked at me.

  “Ma’am, I strongly advise you not to touch me again, or there will be severe consequences.”

  “Don’t you fucking touch her, asshole,” Sully snarled. It was the first time he’d said anything since they’d told him he was under arrest; he went from stony compliance to extreme anger in a flash, struggling to free himself from the soldiers. He twisted, trying to wrestle himself loose, but the men had hold of him tight and it didn’t look like they were planning on letting him go. “Get your fucking hands off me, motherfucker!”

  “Sully!” I tried to get past the huge, towering man in front of me, blocking my path, but he was a wall of muscle, and I had no hope.

  “Ma’am? Ma’am. Stop. Captain Fletcher is required to come with us. If you don’t calm down, we’ll be forced to call for local law enforcement to come and detain you until we are off the property.”

  “Good. Call the police. You can’t just take him like this. He has the right to due process, just like anyone else.”

  “He does not, ma’am. He’s still governed by the United States Army, regardless of whether or not he’s on active duty. Fletcher’s committed a crime. He’s under investigation. That’s all there is to it.”

  “But he has the right to a lawyer. He has the right to know why he’s being—”

  “Ophelia.” Sully had stopped struggling and was looking at me. “Please. It’s okay. Just go and be with your mom, okay? I’ll come find you as soon as I can, I swear.”

  And so that was it. They led Sully away, and he was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Afghanistan

  2009

  Sully

  “We can’t do this, Sully. There’s no way we can pull it off. We’re mad to have even considered it.”

  I straightened Ronan’s tie and cuffed him on the shoulder, trying not to let my nerves show. What we were planning on doing was madness indeed, but there was nothing else for it. Ronan couldn’t take another day here in-country, let alone another month. Or three. Or five. Or twelve.

  Whitlock hadn’t called me into his office to tell me my deployment was being extended. In a strange twist of fate, he had called me into his office to thank me for my fine service, and to tell me I was going home. Not only was my deployment over, but my contract with the army, too. I was out. I was done. I was finished. Unless I wanted to re-enlist, of course. I’d stared at Whitlock at first, too stunned to speak or even blink. But then the cogs had started turning.

  “No, sir. I think I’ve had my fill of Afghanistan. For this lifetime, anyway,” I’d told him. “It’s high time I went back to New York. I’ve made my girlfriend wait six years for me already. I should probably marry her before she grows bored and gets hitched to some barista or something.”

  Whitlock had laughed, but I could see it in his eyes—he thought I was less of a man for leaving. “Well that’s settled then. Lucky for me I get to keep hold of at least one of the Fletcher boys for a little longer.”

  As soon as I’d left Whitlock’s office, I’d gone to find Ronan, to explain my plan, and that had been it. Ronan had argued at first, told me I couldn’t make such a ridiculous sacrifice for him, that I was mad, but in the end he’d given up. H
e couldn’t stay. I could. That was all there was to it.

  “If we get caught...” Ronan fidgeted, rubbing his hands over his face.

  “We’re not going to get caught, asshole. We’ve been screwing with people our entire lives and no one’s ever been able to tell the difference between us. Why would they now? I know your men. We’ve gone through every single aspect of your past missions. I’m not going to trip up and make a mistake here. It’s going to be fine.”

  “And what am I going to do when I get back to the States? I’m just gonna move in with your girlfriend and pretend to the world like I’m happy and in love? Magda’s going to hate me for this. Living with her, pretending to be you? That’s not just going to affect me. It’s going to affect her, too.”

  He was right on that count. Magda and Ronan had never been all that close. Ronan had constantly told me she wasn’t right for me, while on the other hand Mags had always said Ronan was a liar and couldn’t be trusted. Now, we were all going to be liars. I’d explained to Magda what was going to happen as best I could without directly saying the words, and after a while she’d managed to decipher what I was talking about. She’d been mad. Boy, had she been mad. But she’d agreed to play along for my sake.

  “Just make sure she’s not too worried,” I said, handing Ronan his military bag. The one with CPTN. S. FLETCHER stenciled onto its side. “And remind her she can’t talk about this to anyone. Not her parents. Not Rose. She can’t even write about it in that diary of hers, okay? Hey? Are you listening to me?” I took Ronan’s face in my hands, forcing him to meet my eye. “This is so fucking important, man. Tell me you can handle this.”