Midnight Storm (The Warriors)

by Laura Taylor

  "I want you," he said in a voice that resembled an endless stretch of gravel road.

  Jessica exhaled shakily, her skin growing more sensitive with each passing second, and her need for Dev becoming more and more encompassing. "We’re making love in the kitchen. We must be insane."

  "Or in love," he said, his mood altering unexpectedly.

  "Or in love," she echoed so softly he almost didn’t hear her speak. "I do love you, Dev. Surely you’ve always known that."

  "No, I haven’t always known it, Jessie. Why would I? We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in ten years. You walked out on me, and you never looked back."

  She raised shaking fingers to his cheek. "I looked back every single day, Dev. I never stopped looking back."

  He jerked free of her touch.

  She stared up at him, dawning realization and no small amount of shock draining the color from her cheeks. She trembled, and this time it wasn’t the result of being cold or hot. This time, she felt frozen with apprehension.

  "I know that look, Dev. You’re about to give me an ultimatum, aren’t you?"

  "You’re damn right I am." He turned away, adjusting his clothes and grabbing his jacket on his way to the door. Before he let the kitchen door slam shut, he called back over his shoulder, "After what we’ve shared, I shouldn’t have to prove to you that I’m good enough to be a part of your life. You’ve got twenty–four hours, Jessica. If I don’t hear the truth by then, I’m gone… and I won’t be coming back."

  She flinched and then spoke to the empty kitchen. "You’ll hear the truth, Dev, and you’ll hate it, but you’ll finally understand. You’ll probably even thank me for leaving you."

  10

  Jessica refused to retreat or to hide from Dev. She pulled her emotions together by the sheer force of her will. She knew she couldn’t ignore him or his ultimatum. Neither did she resist the reality that a confrontation between them about the past had been inevitable since their first moments together.

  She found him standing at the edge of the lake, his expression closed but his body language speaking volumes about his anger with her. Approaching him, she tried to set aside her sadness and regret, but she felt haunted by the gulf that now separated them.

  Jessica searched for what remained of her courage as she studied him. She finally found it in the knowledge that she’d protected Dev for years from her potential failings. The disdain she glimpsed in his eyes when he glanced at her a few moments later stung, and it nearly broke her heart. It also forced her to confront the fact that she’d robbed him of any participation in a decision that had altered both of their lives.

  She didn’t feel any better when she told herself that he simply hadn’t understood her motives. He soon would. Perhaps then he would be more understanding about the difficult choice she’d made. Or not, she thought.

  When he said nothing at her approach, she asked, "Are you ready to get back to work?"

  "Don’t I look ready?" he demanded.

  "Actually, you look ready to detonate, but since I can’t do anything about your bad temper at the moment, we might as well get on with this. We’ve still got work to do."

  He scowled at her, but he kept his thoughts to himself. They resumed their photographic endeavors for her insurance company, this time paying close attention to the gouges in the inn’s exterior walls, damaged and missing shutters, and the devastated front veranda before moving on to the fallen oaks that cluttered the driveway.

  Jessica felt the tension between them escalate with each step they took and each minute that passed. Although ready to snap in two from the pressure of working alongside Dev in his current state, she ignored the headache pounding in her skull in favor of completing the task at hand.

  What had once been eight rustic, lakefront cottages now reminded Jessica of the finished product at a toothpick factory. When she said as much, Dev gave her a hard look, aimed the camera of his cell phone, and moved past her to shoot several additional images.

  She trudged along behind him, quietly cursing the pigheadedness of men in general. They worked in relative silence, speaking to each other only when necessary. He photographed the twisted CLEARY HOUSE INN AND RESORT carved wood sign that had been propelled by the tornado from the front gate almost a mile away to a spot in the middle of the front yard, four flattened storage sheds, and the now roofless and partially collapsed three–bay garage situated behind the inn.

  She almost didn’t believe her eyes as she studied the crushed, rubble–covered remains of Monica’s sedan and a flatbed truck they’d used for hauling. "At least my Jeep looks salvageable," she commented, "even if the other two vehicles are a total loss."

  Dev grunted something indecipherable and walked away. Keeping a firm grasp on her temper, Jessica followed him past the debris–filled swimming pool. Not one chaise lounge or umbrella–topped table and matching chairs remained. She wondered if everything was now at the bottom of Willow Lake.

  Dev’s anger lingered. At one point during the afternoon, she reminded herself that she was responsible for his brooding expression and dark glances, but when dusk began to creep across the landscape she grew irritated with his attitude and impatient with herself for tolerating it.

  "I’ve had enough," she announced. Peeling off the gloves she wore, she tucked them into the pocket of her jacket. "I’m tired, hungry, and thirsty." And fed up with this cold war, she finished silently.

  "Ditto. We can start again at dawn." He walked away, his long–legged stride even brisker than usual.

  "Dev…"

  He paused, his back to her as he halted in mid–stride halfway across the yard.

  "Could we please have a truce?"

  He turned slowly and met her gaze. "Only if you’re ready to talk."

  "We’re going to talk, Dev, but you gave me twenty–four hours. I need a little time to gather my thoughts."

  "You aren’t preparing for a trial, Jessica."

  "You could have fooled me," she said, stung by his cold, sarcastic tone. "Aren’t you about to pass judgment over decisions I made alone a long time ago? Aren’t you setting yourself up as my judge and jury? Or are you simply going to give me my sentence and expect me to serve it because your ego’s been dented and your judgment questioned?"

  Although his strong features were partially obscured by the shadows of twilight, Jessica thought she saw him frown as she approached him.

  "Do you think I’m that much of a bastard, Jessica?"

  "You’ve been behaving like one all afternoon, so what am I supposed to think?" she asked. "Look, there are some things you need to understand, starting with the fact that I will never seek forgiveness from you for making the hardest decision of my life ten years ago. What I will always regret is the fact that I hurt you… I always will, but I didn’t do anything wrong. In the long run, I probably saved your career and your peace of mind, only you just don’t realize it yet."

  "I’ve had enough riddles and double–talk to do me for an entire lifetime. Just lay out the facts, and we’ll discuss them like two adults."

  "I intend to, but…"

  A car horn blared in the distance, interrupting her. Jessica glanced in the direction of the sound. Dev turned and looked down the driveway still littered with Jessica’s fallen oak sentries. The horn blaring resumed. They both saw what looked like car headlights flashing on and off.

  Dev recognized the message being conveyed. When he swore, the words made Jessica blanch. But as she studied the patterns of the blinking lights, a faded memory surfaced in her mind, a memory of a little girl being taught a game by her father. Years later, she’d realized that the game hadn’t been a game at all.

  "Isn’t that…" she began.

  "Morse code," he confirmed. He dug out a flashlight from his back pocket. He sent a return message to the driver in the vehicle parked at the blocked entrance of the driveway.

  "What’s going on?" Jessica asked.

  He extinguished the beam and slid the small flashl
ight back into his hip pocket. "The United States Marine Corps has arrived."

  Jessica heard a car door slam in the distance on the heels of his remark. When she noticed a small circle of light bob a few times and then start moving up the long driveway, she assumed that a person carrying a flashlight was jogging toward them at a fairly brisk pace.

  "This is probably about Dave Winslow," he quietly told her.

  Jessica reached out and took his hand. Gently prying open his clenched fist, she laced their fingers together. He looked first at their joined hands and then at her. She saw the depth of his anxiety in his gaze before he could conceal it.

  "What can I do to help?" she asked.

  "I’ll handle this." He jerked free of her. "Why don’t you go inside?"

  "Trying to get rid of me?" she joked, trying to lessen his tension and the spark of pain his withdrawal caused.

  He grabbed her wrist, pulled her forward, and caught her shoulders as she slammed into his chest. "I wouldn’t sling too many accusations if I were you. Getting rid of people is your specialty, not mine."

  "I know you’re upset with me, but you aren’t being fair."

  "I don’t feel fair, Jessica." He lowered his lips and branded her with a stunning, very nearly brutal kiss. "I feel hurt and angry and frustrated, and I God damn well do not feel fair."

  "I know you’re hurting, Dev, but I’m only part of the cause. All I can do is hope and pray that David Winslow is alive." Reaching up, she stroked his cheek with her fingertips. "Please believe that the last thing in the world I ever wanted to do was hurt you."

  He exhaled harshly. She felt the gentling of his hands at her shoulders. A tremor stole through his body, and she felt that, too. Jessica longed to reassure him that everything would be alright, but she already knew from painful personal experience just how empty such words could sound at times like these.

  Dev started to speak, but then he hesitated.

  "Talk to me," she encouraged softly. "I’m not the enemy. I love you, even when you’re angry."

  She waited, sensing only seconds later that something crucial deep inside of him had suddenly snapped. He cradled her against his chest, lowered his head, and gently pressed his lips to the soft curve of her neck. Yet another tremor rocked him, and she held on to him with every bit of strength and love she possessed.

  "Jessie, I’m sorry…"

  "Dev?" she said, reluctantly stopping his words when a slender young man in a Marine Corps uniform selected that moment to jog into view.

  The young man paused when he caught Jessica and Dev in the glare of his flashlight. "Excuse me, sir, ma’am. Sir, would you be Major Devlin Patrick Mackenzie, presently on convalescent leave from the United States Marine Corps?"

  Dev straightened and turned, but he kept his arm around Jessica. "Who wants to know, Marine?"

  "Sergeant Leon Higgins, sir. I’m currently assigned to the Marine Corps recruiting office in Little Rock. Gunnery Sergeant Tolliver is my immediate superior."

  As she stood in the circle of his arm, Jessica watched Dev very closely. She felt and saw the changes taking place in his demeanor. His shoulders and back grew rigid, his chin came up, and his eyes hardened.

  She knew he was preparing himself for bad news. Instead of flashing back on her own past, she found herself struggling to think of ways to help him.

  "What can I do for you, Sergeant?"

  "The Commandant’s office requests your presence at Headquarters, Marine Corps, sir. Your transportation to Washington is standing by in Little Rock. I have copies of your orders, and I’ve been assigned to make myself and my vehicle available to you should you have any special needs."

  "A ride back to Little Rock should do it, Sergeant. Come on in and have a cup of coffee while I get cleaned up and throw some things into a bag."

  "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," he said. "I appreciate your hospitality."

  "At ease, Higgins. This is Miss Cleary, your hostess."

  Higgins turned to her. "Pleased to meet you, ma’am."

  Dev kept his arm around Jessica. They silently walked the short distance to the inn’s side entrance. The sergeant followed a few steps behind them. Once they entered the kitchen, Dev gripped her waist and brought her against his body for a quick hug. She stared after him once he released her and made his way upstairs.

  "He must be very important for them to send a plane."

  She smiled at the awe she heard in the young man’s voice. "Yes, he’s very important," Jessica agreed.

  Keeping her worry and her tears at bay took a concerted effort, but Jessica turned her attention and energy to making a fresh pot of coffee. She poured a cup for the sergeant, found a box of sugar cookies from a local bakery, and placed several on a plate. While Sergeant Higgins munched on cookies and sipped black coffee, Jessica allowed herself a full five minutes of self–pity before reclaiming her dignity.

  The sound of booted footsteps descending the staircase jarred her back to the present. She spotted Dev as he strode down the hall.

  He paused in the kitchen doorway, his features unrevealing, his demeanor pure Marine Corps despite the fact that he wore jeans, a black pull–over sweater they’d rescued from his wrecked cottage, hand–tooled black leather boots, and his leather jacket. He carried a travel shaving kit and the leather satchel that contained his computer, iPad, and cell phone, the only possessions of his that they’d managed to salvage from the chaos of the last few days. Freshly showered and shaved, he appeared ready to depart.

  Conversely, Jessica felt ready to fling herself into his arms and beg him to stay. She swallowed the words, asking instead, "Would you like anything before you leave, Dev?"

  He nodded without meeting her gaze as he placed his gear on the counter. "Make yourself comfortable, Higgins. I’ll be a few more minutes."

  "Thank you, sir." Higgins raised shy brown eyes to Jessica’s face. "These cookies are as good as the ones my mom sends me, ma’am. Thank you."

  She smiled, not bothering to name the bakery responsible for the cookies. "You’re very welcome, Sergeant Higgins."

  Her smile quickly faded as Dev took her hand and led her out of the kitchen and into the living room. She couldn’t help recalling the confidences and intimacy they’d shared in front of a roaring fire just a few nights ago. So much had happened in such a short space of time. And yet, much more needed to happen.

  Reaching out, she switched on the nearest lamp before facing him. "All set?" she asked, trying to sound both cheerful and optimistic.

  "Come here, Jessie." His voice sounded low and raw.

  She instantly walked into his arms. He drew her close, aligning their bodies, one hand at her hip, the other at the back of her head. She trembled as he gently claimed her lips.

  Unlike their last encounter, she tasted only the sweetest kind of passion as he deepened their kiss. She felt cherished, desired, and, most important, needed.

  Instantly responsive to his touch, she savored the feel of his fingers flexing at her hip and the press of hard male flesh as he ground his loins against her with a seductive back and forth motion that set her nerves on fire. She felt her body soften and her breasts swell. Even her scalp tingled beneath the subtle pressure of his massaging fingers, which he’d plunged deep into the thickness of her dark hair.

  Dev finally released her lips, but Jessica felt his reluctance to sever their contact. She moaned in protest. She ached for him. Sighing with pleasure and relief when he gathered her against him once more, she adored the feel of his hands possessively roaming over her body—as if to memorize every curve and hollow.

  "I love the way you touch me," she whispered against his mouth before using her teeth to tug at his lower lip.

  He groaned. His head fell back and his eyes shuttered closed, but he kept his arms around her.

  Jessica pressed her cheek to his chest. She heard the frantic thudding of his heart and knew her own thudded just as wildly.

  He shifted his hands up to her shoulders. "I h
ave to leave."

  She took a steadying breath in an effort to regain control of herself, but she still felt tortured by the desire throbbing in her veins and the emptiness ahead of her.

  "We’re not finished," he told her.

  "I know."

  "I’m coming back as soon as possible."

  She nodded. "I want to believe you."

  "I’m serious, Jessie. I will be back. You owe me an explanation, and I intend to have it."

  "You will."

  "Promise?"

  "I promise, Dev."

  "Don’t write me off again."

  "I didn’t write you off!" she protested. "I simply did what had to be done."

  "I know you believe what you’re saying, but my instincts tell me you were wrong." He cupped her upturned face with his hands. "Even when I’m angry as hell with you, I still love you."

  "I wish love solved everything."

  "Love is part of the whole package. We can have it all, Jessie. I know we can."

  Her eyes filled with tears. "I believed that once."

  "Believe it again. While you’re at it, believe in us enough to live with me and love me. Believe in us enough to marry me."

  Stunned, she stared at him.

  He pressed his fingertips against her lips when she started to speak. "Don’t say anything now. Just think about the past several days. It’s been good between us… hell, it’s been way beyond good… even though it’s felt like a roller coaster ride most of the time. Think about what I’ve just said, and then imagine what a real life together would be like, instead of these half–lives we’ve both been enduring."

  She nodded. She even tried to smile at him, but the tears she’d been fighting since the sergeant’s arrival welled in her eyes, wet her thick dark lashes, and then spilled down her cheeks.

  "Jessie love, you’re tearing me apart with your tears. We’re going to be alright." Slipping his arms around her, he kissed her again.

  A few moments later, she stood as still as a statue and watched Dev walk away. Although she loved and wanted him, Jessica still felt terrorized by her fear that, if put to the test, she might end up as emotionally unstable and dependent as her mother. Despite all that, she knew she would give him the explanation he deserved if he returned.