She counted to ten before she spoke. “You have a point, but that will be my decision. Not too many seventy- or eighty-year-old psychopaths ready to come into the hospital with a gun.” Her hand gravitated to her side. “I’m sorry. I thought pulling around the corner before calling the police put me out of sight. It was a stupid move.”
“I’m going to see where the nurse is with that pain medication.”
Yes, the pain was intensifying, and she had a headache as well. “I think that might be good.”
As soon as he disappeared out the door in search of the nurse, her eyes filled with tears. She had thought the tension between them might have been destroyed by the life-and-death struggle she’d just been through, but it hadn’t. She still had to curb the need to bite his head off.
Fifteen years of being the one in charge of house and family while Langley did his duty, and lived his dream… He might have been in life and death trenches while downrange, but she was here in the trenches with their children, holding things together by her fingertips.
Then to have him waltz in and criticize her for being stressed out about it did not help. He wanted to tell her how she needed to do the job. But he had never done the job.
Maybe she needed to walk away and give him a good dose of it all. As soon as she was able to walk, she very well might do that. But could she do it to her kids?
As soon as she was strong enough, she and Langley were going to go head-to-head about some things. But right now she just needed to try and heal and get on her feet.
She needed to think of a time when things were better. Maybe that would help her feel better about the state of her marriage and family.
Chapter 11
SAN DIEGO, 2010
Doc and Bowie both paused beside the gate. Bowie gave her a hug. “Thanks for dinner, Trish.” He brushed a kiss against her cheek. After he stepped back, Doc gave her a squeeze. “Good night.”
Trish patted Doc’s back. The two best buds and SEAL teammates wandered out to Doc’s SUV and climbed inside. She watched their taillights disappear.
She loved the team. They were a great group of guys. And there was no doubt if she was in trouble, all she’d have to do is pick up the phone, and the whole team would be on her doorstep ASAP.
But there were times she felt like a frat housemother as well, since she and Langley were the only married couple in the group. Well, except for Selena and Greenback. But those two were a young married couple, and still in the “want to be alone” stages.
She remembered those times for her and Langley. It had been a while. But things were better than they were a year earlier.
She turned to track Langley’s progress. Doc and Bowie had helped him put away the extra tables and most of the food. He was dragging out the last float from the pool as she approached him, and he leaned it against the privacy fence.
Something had happened during his deployment. He was still helpful with the kids. Attentive and affectionate with her. But something was going on with him. He was quiet and moody, dwelling on something.
She caught his hand and drew him to the hammock. “The girls have crashed in their room, and Tad is asleep in front of the television. We are going to relax in the hammock before we go inside.”
“We are?”
“Yes, we are.”
Langley raised a brow. “How do you propose we both get into the thing without landing on our asses?”
“You jump out of airplanes thousands of feet above the ground, and you’re afraid of falling two feet out of a hammock?”
He chuckled. “I thought the plan was to lie in it together, not fall out.”
“You get in first. Then I’ll join you.”
He got in quite easily. She waited for the hammock to stop rocking before she eased in beside him. The hammock rocked wildly, and she plastered herself against Langley’s large frame and held on for dear life. When it quit rocking, she gave a sigh and ran her hand up beneath his T-shirt and stroked his broad chest.
She tried to think of a way to get him to open up. “What did you think about Brett’s sister, Zoe?”
“I think Hawk will try to be all noble and shit, but he won’t stand a chance.”
Trish laughed. “He’s interested in her? How could you tell?”
“He’s offered her and her mom a place to stay while Brett’s situation is ironed out.”
She was surprised, but then again she wasn’t. Hawk had a protective streak a mile wide when it came to his men. With Brett being in a coma from a head injury… “It may be exactly what he said it was. He’s just trying to help them out.”
“Possibly. But he was watching her like a hawk around the other men. No pun intended.”
She’d met some of the women Hawk had dated over the last couple of years. They’d all been tall, athletic, and blond. Zoe was small in stature, and had obvious mobility issues because of a permanent leg injury. But with her unusual hazelnut, sun-streaked hair and startling blue eyes, she was beautiful. “Maybe he’s worried about how Brett will feel if she hooks up with one of his brothers in arms. Or maybe he’s concerned she might get hurt.”
Langley tucked a hand beneath the back of his head. “I think he’s worried one of the guys will put the move on her before he has a chance to.”
“Wow!” She remained silent for a moment, thinking that through. “What if something happens to Brett?”
“Brett’s tough. He’ll come through this. He’s going to wake up.”
She understood his refusal to accept that any of them were mortal. If they bought into it, they might lose their nerve when they needed it most. She tried to put as much confidence in her tone as he had. “I think he will, too.”
Langley tightened his arm around her, giving her a squeeze.
Was he worried about something he thought he hadn’t done that could have prevented Brett’s injury? Was that what he was carrying? “I know there’s something bothering you, Langley. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
He shook his head. “Hawk and I haven’t figured it out yet. I couldn’t tell you even if we had, Trish.”
“Okay.” She continued to stroke his chest. “Tell me about something you’re carrying that you can share with me.”
He remained silent for a moment. “There was someone shooting RPGs across the camp fence at four o’clock every morning. It had been going on about two weeks. They managed to take out a Humvee and an empty latrine, but hadn’t managed to hurt anyone.
“When the team came out of the field after that last mission, and the helo was landing, an RPG damn near hit the transport. We’d already heard that Brett was down and Hawk had an injury. Since I’d messed up my ankle and hadn’t been able to go with them, it really pissed me off.
“The base commander, Captain Morrow, gave me carte blanche to take the shooter out if I could find him. A few days later, as soon as my ankle was better, I requisitioned one of our drones. Bowie, Doc, and I took a small squad of Marines and slipped off base. I launched the drone and waited for the guy to start shooting at the base.
“I took the drone up high so I could get a fix on the location of the shooter. And we waited for like an hour, feeling like sitting ducks, because we’re a convoy of four Humvees, and we’re driving around in circles. Finally they fire on the base and hit a section of fence and the sandbags.
“I’m figuring out the coordinates. We move in quick to the house, prepared to take him out. The Marines bail out of the Humvees a hundred feet from the location, and I send some around back.
“We breach the front…and we find an infant in a basket who’s not doing well, and a two-year-old who looks like he hasn’t been fed in a while. We secure the kids in one of the rooms while we search for the shooter.
“We hear shouting from the back, and double-time it outside. The Marines have a woman on her knees in the center of the courtyard. She’s begging them to kill her.”
His throat worked as he swallowed. Trish put an arm around his waist and h
eld on tight.
“We try to avoid touching the women. They’re shamed if we do, and their families can shun them or kill them. But we can’t not search her, because she might be wired. I do it as quickly as possible, and get the hell away from her.
“I get the interpreter over there, and we find out her husband was killed in a drone attack two months before. She and the children are completely alone. Al Qaeda has been paying her in food to shoot at the base from the roof of her house, but no one has brought her anything to eat in a week, and she’s given everything to her son, the two-year-old. She and the infant are starving.
“The Marines are looking at me waiting for orders, so I order one to break out some MREs. We offer the woman food, but she refuses it. One of the Marines feeds the two-year-old. He’s like a little bird, holding his mouth open and gobbling down the food as fast as he can. Doc gets an IV going on the baby, who’s in bad shape.
“On the roof are four more grenades and the RPG. We load the weapons in one car while we load her and her kids in the other, and we take them all to the base hospital to be checked out.
“Our base commander shows up at the hospital for a sit-rep. I tell him the story. He turns to me and says, ‘What do you think we should do with her?’
“He’d already given me the go-ahead to take out whoever was shooting across the base wall. I wasn’t about to leave her for those Al Qaeda bastards to starve her and the kids to death, or worse. She’d done some property damage, but hadn’t killed anyone. So I tell him I’ll interview her and get as much information about the assholes as I can—specifically, the man who threatened her.
“I tell him I’ll also take out the house, so no one else could move in and shoot at us from the roof, and then dissuade the neighbors from getting any ideas. We could possibly pay a couple of the neighbors to say the house was hit by a drone strike, so the bastards would think she and the kids were dead. And I’d relocate the mother and children somewhere else. Possibly to the husband’s family, if they could be found. They’d take her in because of the children—hopefully.
“He agreed, so Doc, Bowie, Strong Man, and I go back out and wire the house to blow so there’ll be a minimum of damage to the homes around it. Then we spend our last two weeks in Iraq trying to find family to send her and the kids to.”
Trish’s arms tightened around him again. “You’re a good man, Langley.”
He was silent for a long moment. “One of the Al Qaeda bastards abused her. She gave up his name right away. I think that’s why she wanted to die. The baby was only about three months old. She’d given birth to her alone. And this asshole comes into her home and…” His throat worked again. “I made sure his name was on the hit list of bad guys before I left. If our guys don’t get him, theirs will, maybe. Hopefully the bastard’s already dead, since he never came back.”
“You did all you could, Langley. More than her own people or neighbors did.”
“It’s damn near impossible to figure out who the bad guys are over there, Trish. Some of them would sell their kids to the highest bidder to survive, while others will stay in the trenches and starve with them. We try to build a relationship with them through kindness, and they’re murdered for having contact with us, or turned in by their own neighbors. It’s a no-win for everyone.”
Trish cupped his cheek and looped a leg over his. “There’s nothing you can do about it. And you’re home. Try to lay it down.”
He turned on his side, making the hammock swing wildly, and snuggled her body into his. “You’re right.” His mouth touched hers in the softest of kisses. “I’m home. I’m grateful to be here with you.”
That’s the way it always worked. He told her some non-secret something that was weighing on him, and he turned to her for comfort.
How much more did the secret stuff hurt him? How did the other guys deal with all this without a sounding board and a pair of loving arms to hold and comfort them? She smoothed his hair back from his forehead.
“I’m grateful you’re who you are, Langley.” She tugged up his T-shirt and then her own, so their skin could touch. He unclasped her bra and cupped her breast, then plucked at the nipple, toying with it until it beaded. Sensitive sparks trailed downward to the most intimate part of her body, and she rocked in against him, setting the hammock to swinging again.
“You know we can’t make love in a hammock. I’m a SEAL, not an acrobat.”
She chuckled. “I thought we could do some heavy petting, then wander in and make love.” She unzipped his khaki shorts and caressed the length of his erection through his briefs while she nuzzled his neck.
“Good thing I’m a sailor and don’t get seasick.” He kissed her again.
She could tell he was lighter for having shared, but it wasn’t the thing that was bothering him most. It was probably something he’d never be able to share. She couldn’t do anything about that but love him.
SUNDAY, 3:00 p.m.
Trish opened her eyes when the nurse came in to change the IV bag. Her attention fell on the chair Langley had been sitting in. He was still there, sound asleep, with his head tilted back at an awkward angle guaranteed to give him a crick in his neck.
A wave of tenderness and love washed over her. She and Langley were better together than they ever were apart. She loved him so much. She knew she was loved in return. He tried hard to show her every chance he got.
It wasn’t fair to keep riding him about things. She needed to get past this short-tempered resentment.
She didn’t even know why she was so resentful and angry. What was she carrying that was causing her to feel this way? She had to figure it out and lay it down. Otherwise it was going to destroy their marriage.
His patience would only last so long. Maybe they just needed a rip-roaring fight to clear the air. But what did she want to fight with him about? Damned if she knew. She was just tired, worn down, overworked, and now she’d been shot.
Which was definitely a good enough reason to quit her job.
But Langley didn’t quit his because people shot at him.
God, how stupid that sounded, to compare their jobs.
She wanted him home safe. She was terrified something would happen to him when she needed him most.
Plus the things going on between her and Tad. They both needed Langley at home to act as an intermediary. She just wasn’t strong enough to make their son see he needed to take a close look at his behavior and think about the bridges he was burning.
Then why the hell was she being such a bitch to the person she needed most? Why was she pushing him away? She needed to do some soul-searching and figure it out.
Chapter 12
FRIDAY, 10:00 a.m.
“I’m not really supposed to be telling you this, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention who told you,” Irene said on the phone. “But I’m just so pissed off, I couldn’t let them blindside you with it. And even if you come back, you’ll be wondering why no one sent you cards or called.”
“It’s okay, Irene, I understand. I appreciate the heads-up. I won’t say a word about how I found out.” Trish found her hands shaking as she listened to the woman vent about their dickless boss and his idea of forcing the rest of the staff to keep their distance.
He was afraid Trish would file a lawsuit against him or the agency for unsafe work practices. He wasn’t even thinking about the labor laws he broke by doubling their workload and not paying them for the many hours they worked on their own time. He knew they were all conscientious, and would continue to do the job for the people depending on them, even if they wouldn’t be caught dead doing it for him.
And God knew it wasn’t for the money.
“It isn’t right, but there’s not anything we can do about it, Trish. We can’t walk off the job and leave our people high and dry.” Irene’s voice shook, and she sounded close to tears.
“I don’t expect you to fight my battles for me, Irene. I think you’ve shown character just by making this phone call,
so don’t worry about it anymore. Okay?” She felt a bit like crying herself. That fucker had turned his back on her instead of looking out for her.
“I’m sorry.” Irene said for the tenth time.
“It isn’t your job to apologize for Fletcher being an asshole, Irene. But he’ll do it to my face when I come back to work.”
“So you’re coming back?”
Trish wasn’t sure, but she’d go back one last time to tell him face-to-face to stuff it, just on principle. “I’ll be back soon. In the meantime, if you could check on a couple of my cases.”
They spent the remainder of the conversation on the particulars of two children who’d just been placed in a foster home, and a woman who was recently evicted from her apartment because they were tearing the place down. She’d waited too long, or perhaps just hadn’t had the money to move. Trish had placed her and her baby daughter temporarily, but the woman and baby needed something permanent.
After they discussed the particulars, Irene went on for another few minutes, apologizing again. “I’ll take care of these people. Don’t worry. And come back whenever you feel up to it.”
“Thanks, Irene. I appreciate it.”
Trish ended the call and leaned back to relax and bring her blood pressure back down. She could feel it pounding in her ears.
After all the years she worked for that asshole…After all the extra hours she put in that she could have been spending with her family…Fletcher could go fuck himself. He deserved to have an attorney pay him a visit, just to scare the shit out of him.
Langley wandered in from making a trip to the car with the clothing and other things that had accumulated in the past five days. Even sick, she couldn’t just sit and watch television. It drove her crazy. So she’d caught up on some reading and finished some case notes.
Langley studied her features, and even reached over to touch her cheek. “You’re not running a fever, are you?”
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