by Kacey Shea
We don’t speak. We just stand there, for how long I don’t know. Her phone pings.
“Jon. Jon, I have to go. My cab is here. My flight’s at four. I’d stay but—” She implores with her gaze and I snap out of the numbness that’s come over me.
“Yeah. Go. You have to catch your flight.” She’s concerned. About me, about how I will handle this news. Always selfless, this one, worrying about others when she received the same bad news. It’s then I realize I’m still gripping her shoulders tight. I loosen my hold and rub her arms up and down before I release her.
“Hey, I’ll be okay. Are you going to be okay?” She wraps me in a bear hug, the tiny sprite that she is. I’m so lucky to have a friend in this woman.
“We’ll get through this.” I nod and pick up her bag. She takes it from me and heaves it onto her shoulder.
“You need to go now.”
“Later, Jon. We’ll talk soon.”
“Later, Alex.”
I walk her to the door and she waves once more before she trudges to the cab at the curb. We wave one last time and I close and lock the door.
The silence is stifling. I feel trapped in my own skin. He’s really gone. Will’s really gone. I fall to the floor and scream as loud as I can. I punch the floor but it brings no relief from the pain that seeps inside.
I could have stopped this. He called me to talk. I could have done something. Panic clouds my mind. My skin feels dirty. Will’s face flashes before me and I bite back a sob. Clean. I just need to be clean. I stumble down the hallway. It’s all too much. The room before me fades to black.
THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY. IT’S only three but I’m itching to get out of work early. I’m not the only one, either; everyone has left for the weekend except me and Teagan. It’s been an exciting week for the studio, but a long one too. Working with the band has taken everyone’s attention and time.
They are a fun group of guys to work with, but I’m glad they are in Cali for the next few days. Trent consumes more of my mind and energy than I like to admit. He’s sexy, a giant flirt, and relentless, and my attraction grows daily. He asks me out constantly and last night after a ten hour work day I finally gave in. I agreed to one date, post production of our studio work with the band because I don’t mix business with pleasure. Much. My yes only fed his ego, I know this, but his confidence is a turn on and I’m looking forward to our date. Hopefully next weekend, if all goes according to plan.
I’ve also spent a good amount of time hanging out with Alex in the evenings after work. We just click and I’m happy to call her a friend. She’s one bad ass friend, too. I admire that after all she’s been through she has this insanely positive attitude. I’m sad she’s flying back home today and I won’t get to see her. We said our good-byes last night and I shed a few tears. I hope she visits again soon.
Alex Ass Kicker: Kate? You still at work?
Well, speak of the devil. I glance from my laptop to my phone screen and see a text come in.
Kate: Yup. Still here. Unfortunately. You at the airport yet?
Kate: I already miss your face!
Alex Ass Kicker: Hey, I need you to do me a favor. Can you leave work early and check on Jon? I’m worried about him. I had to get to the airport but I didn’t want to leave him that way.
Kate: What’s going on?
Alex Ass Kicker: I feel bad texting this to you but I can’t talk right now. I’ll lose it. A comrade of ours committed suicide last night. I just found out a few hours ago.
I drop the phone to my desk. It’s one of those moments when just a minute ago I was worried about something stupid and meaningless, but now, now I’m floored by the sadness and gravity of the situation. One thought rolls through my mind: I need to get to Jon. I stand and grab my bag, and haphazardly toss my personal items inside as quickly as I can manage. Stumbling down the hall, I call out to Teagan.
“Hey, girl, I hate to do this to you but I need you to lock up. I’ve got to leave now. Family emergency.” Teagan watches my face and nods with a somber expression.
“Of course, Kate. Get out of here. I’ll take care of things. Text me if you need anything, okay?”
“Thanks, Teagan. You’re the best.” I yell over my shoulder as I race out the back door and straight to my rental car. My phone dings a few times but it’s buried somewhere in my bag and I don’t waste time trying to find it. I concentrate on driving fast and safe to the apartment. Heavy sickness settles in my gut. I need to get to Jon.
Swinging the rental into the open space beside Jon’s truck I shove the door open and shut behind me, then run as quickly as possible in my black pumps up to the apartment. My heartbeat races and I can’t tell if it’s from the adrenaline or the fear of what I’ll find inside.
I turn the key and twist the handle. “Jon?” I call inside the apartment. Nothing. An uneasiness crawls over my skin. I lock the door and throw my bag to the ground, then walk toward the bedrooms. Before I reach his door the running shower catches my attention. I pound on the bathroom door.
“Jon! Jon, are you in there?” Stupid. I know he’s inside but I don’t know what else to say. Nothing again. A chill runs down my spine and I grip the handle with a sweaty palm. I twist and push forward the door. It opens with no trouble, and inside the steam is so thick I struggle to breathe.
“Jon?” I speak gently. Nothing. I step across the threshold and that’s when I hear it. Soft crying from behind the curtain. I should give him space, but my concern overpowers any social protocols. I approach the shower and slide the curtain open a few inches.
I gasp. Oh, baby. My heart shatters into a million pieces to find my strong friend sitting hunched over on the floor of the shower. He’s fully clothed, elbows resting on his knees, his head held in hands. Water cascades over his shaking form.
“Jon.” I squat down against the side of the shower tub and reach out my hand. At my touch he jerks his head and looks through me, water splashing his face.
“I need to get clean. Kate. I can’t get clean.” He begs in a strained voice. He’s looking my way with a blank expression, and even his tone is off, as though he’s not fully present. My heart drops. His pain emanates and hits me square in the chest. “I can’t get clean.” He says it again and I have this insane need to make it better.
“It’s okay, Jon. I’ll help you.”
I stand and reach out to grip his hands in my own. I give a little pull and he stands. I kick off my heels. I’m still dressed in my work clothes and I’d rather not soak them, even though it seems we’re taking a fully clothed shower.
I release his hands and quickly unzip my skirt and unbutton my blouse. My underwear today is modest enough, simple black lace hipster panties and demi bra and he’s seen me in less, so I don’t know why I even care. I step into the stream of warm water and cup Jon’s face firmly between my hands so he meets my eyes.
“I’m here now. I’ve got you.”
It’s like he sees me for the first time and his blank face crumples in pain. “Oh, Kate,” he moans as sobs wrack his body. I move closer and wrap my arms around his waist to hold him tight to my own body. I let him cry. I’m sure he needs the release, and I won’t let him go it alone. As his sobs taper off he tries to pull back. I loosen my grip slightly and look into his eyes.
“God. I’m sorry you have to see me this way.” He tries to push me further away and I suspect his pride is the motivator.
“Hey. Don’t push me away.”
“I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“You don’t scare me, Jonathan Beltran. I like seeing you, all of you, and I’m not going anywhere.” I expect anger, a smart ass retort. What I don’t expect is those caramel chocolate eyes to meet my own, soften and fill with tears before he wraps me in another hug.
“Thank you. Thank you, Kate.” His words rasp into my ear and send chills over my body. “I feel like I’m suffocating. Like I’m covered with dirt and grime. I can’t get clean and I don’t know how.”
/> I pull out of his embrace and chew on my lower lip. Clean it is. I recognize something of myself in his incessant need. I can help him. I know I can. I look up and down his form. His clothes are plastered to his body and I take a moment to admire his physique. The man is hard muscle and beautifully broken.
I grip the hem of his t-shirt and reach up onto my tiptoes to peel it over his body. I glance at his expression through wet lashes. He doesn’t move or reveal anything with his serious expression. His eyes shift to study my every move. My skin tingles in awareness.
Slipping my fingertips into the waistband of his shorts, I work the top button open then slide the zipper down. The cargo material sticks because they’re soaked so I move to my knees and pull harder. I’m finally able to shift them down his hips. He steps out of them and I toss them on top his shirt.
Any other time and this position would have me licking my lips in anticipation of what remained clad in his boxer briefs, but the severity of the situation squashes most of the sexual energy passing between us. I can feel his gaze but I don’t dare look into those honey brown irises as I reach for the body wash. Working the soap into a thick lather I ceremoniously knead my hands and fingers over Jon’s chest, arms, stomach, sides. I squat down once more, and let my hands travel over his solid thighs, calves, and finally, feet. Standing again, I replenish my supply of bubbles and move behind him to repeat the process, this time starting at his thighs. He moans when I get to his neck and head. From his posture it’s apparent some of the tension has left his body.
“Better? All clean now.” I let the water rinse the last bit of soap before I reach around to shut the water. I step out and wrap a towel around my own body before I move back to Jon. He stands inside the shower, eyes downcast so I can’t read his expression. I use another towel to dry his skin.
“You don’t have to do this, Kate.”
“But I want to.”
When he’s all dry I clasp his hand and he follows me into the hall and to his room. We’ve been in the shower longer than I realized. The dim light from behind the blinds casts the room in shadows of dusk.
Jon releases my hand and walks to the dresser, drops his boxers to pull on a dry pair. The man has a spectacular ass. I shake my head and internally slap myself for having thoughts like that at a time like this. He walks toward the bed and I pull back the covers for him. He lies down and I turn to go.
“Please don’t leave.” He speaks so softly I almost don’t hear the words. I turn and when my eyes find his I’m both lost and found. Wild horses can’t drag me from Jon right now. I drop the towel wrapped around my body and crawl into the bed beside him. He turns me so his head lays cradled on my breasts and wraps one arm possessively around my waist. My head rests on his pillow under my tucked arm. I use my free hand to trace patterns through his short hair.
I feel his breathing slow and his body go heavy against my own. As he finds rest every fiber in my body screams to run. Pass go and don’t look back, don’t stop to collect two hundred dollars, just run the fuck away. His heart pulls at my own with such force it scares me. Terrifies, in fact. I swore I’d never let anyone this close. My fingers itch for my yoga mat. To feel the solid floorboards beneath me. If it was anyone else I’d be gone already. But this is Jon. My Jon. I’m torn.
As if he can hear my thoughts he snuggles in and hugs me closer, whispering, “Don’t leave.” I rub my hand back and forth along his shoulders and neck.
“I won’t. Just sleep. I won’t leave.” I watch as he falls back asleep, my racing thoughts slow enough for my mind to still. His breathing calms my own. The sensation is new and I do something I’ve never done with any other man. I drift to sleep in the arms of a man I trust.
HOT AND HEAVY. SOMETHING PRESSES against my skin. I can’t breathe. I’m suffocating. Grief hits me square in the chest and I kick and shove at the pain.
“Jon!” My eyelids snap open to find a very pissed off Kate wearing nothing but sexy black lingerie glaring from over the edge of my bed. The morning sun beats through my blinds, showering my room with light. Memories flood. Will. Alex leaving. Shower. Kate keeping watch. Sleep.
“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry.” I reach over the edge of the bed, grab her arms and pull her back onto the bed.
“This how you get all the ladies in bed? Go all caveman and drag them?” Kate offers a small smile which I return.
“I promise. I’m much more of a ladies man when I turn it on.”
“Must be one of those ‘you have to be there to believe it’ sort of things.” She giggles. We lie on our sides facing each other, and even though we aren’t touching I feel extremely bare. Vulnerable. Safe. I wonder if she feels the same.
“Thank you for staying with me last night.” I reach over and tuck a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. She holds my gaze.
“I’ll always be here for you. I’m sorry about your friend. Tell me about him.” More memories flood my mind. Happy ones.
“Will Davis. A hell of a good soldier. Skinny farm boy from Ohio. We met in boot camp and became fast friends, both eighteen, both joined to make a better life, get out of the towns we grew up in. He had this uncanny ability to make you laugh at the worst times possible. We were stationed together in Afghanistan a few years ago.
“There was this one time,” I smile at the memory, “we had to be up and out early for rotation and I’m searching for my damn socks. It was pretty dark and I was trying to keep quiet for my bunk mate who didn’t report for a few more hours. So Will knocks on the door, tells me to hurry up, then asks what’s taking me so long. I tell him and he’s like, no problem, I’ve got an extra pair in my rucksack. I should’ve known then.
“He tosses me the socks and I just throw them on, tug on my boots and report for duty. It’s once we are already outside, gathered with everyone that he tells our sergeant to check out my socks. The damn things were neon pink with little dinosaurs all over them, the words ‘You’re Dino-Mite’ printed around the tops. Shit. Everyone called me Corporal T-Rex for the next month.” I chuckle. Damn, Will knew how to pull a prank.
“He sounds like a great guy. I’m glad he made you wear pink socks.” Kate grins. I can’t believe he’s really gone. My smile crumples under the reality.
“It’s my fault,” I release in a whisper, though inside, my head screams the words. He called me two nights ago. I brushed him off. I even forgot to call him back. What if my ignorance caused him to feel as if no one cared? The reason he killed himself. Shit. I’m so wrapped up in my own life that I don’t have ten minutes to spare for one of my own. I just never thought. He was always so damn fun to be around.
“No. Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself.” Kate pulls me from my thoughts.
“But it is… I just keep thinking. Shit. He called me, you know? Will called a few nights ago when I was on a case. And now I keep replaying the conversation over and over. I shouldn’t have been so selfish. I should’ve taken the time. Did I miss something? I should’ve known he was hurting. If I had only talked to him. If I had? He might still be here.”
With every word the anger within boils closer to the surface. I clench my hands and wish I had something to hit. I’m so fucking angry. This is my fault. I could have done something and I fucking didn’t.
“Hey.” Kate’s stern and calm voice stills the anger. “That’s enough. You didn’t know. How could you? You can’t expect to read minds. And anger and blame? It doesn’t do anything for you. So have your moment, get mad at the entire damn universe, but know deep down you can’t control this and then move on. Don’t wallow in it. It doesn’t honor the memory of the one you lost.”
Her words resonate with my pain. She knows how I feel. I watch her as the silence stretches between us. She traces patterns on the bedsheet and doesn’t quite meet my stare.
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
“Yeah. Well, when you wake up on the ledge of a mountain next to a pile of your own puke with some guy you don’t re
member, wondering if you slept with him, you have to reevaluate your methods of grief.” She tries to laugh but it’s feeble. I don’t get to see this Kate, the authentic and real woman, and her pain meets my own. Pain I never knew she carries. I reach my hand out to cover hers.
“Kate—”
“Don’t. It’s fine. I’ve spent a lot of time in counseling.” She smiles before she continues, “And I’ll never forget. But I’ve learned when I do things that honor the life I lost, it brings me peace.”
“Who?” One single tear falls from her face at my question. She smiles sadly and shakes her head. The shrill sound of my ringtone interrupting. I turn and reach for it to read the caller ID.
“It’s Alex. I should take this.” I don’t want to end our conversation, but I need to answer.
“Yeah. It’s okay. I’ll make coffee. I’m not going anywhere.” She squeezes my hand and flashes a genuine smile as she blinks back her tears. She’s up and out of my room before I can argue. I slide my finger across the screen to answer Alex’s call but my mind is reeling and I wish Kate was back in my bed.
The morning flies by with incessant phone calls. I feel as though I’ve talked to every soldier I’ve ever served with and it’s not even noon. It helps, to hear their voices, to laugh about the good times, to commiserate the loss and helpless feelings, but by the tenth call I’m over it. There are only so many times I can say the same thing before it starts to feel empty.
Kate stays. As I talk on the phone she pops in with refills of coffee. She’s dressed, and damn if I’m not a little disappointed she doesn’t feel the need to prance around in her underwear all day. Phone call after phone call she sneaks into my room throughout the morning, sometimes lying next to me on the bed, others practicing all sorts of bends and handstands on my floor. It should be distracting but it’s incredibly comforting to know she cares enough to keep watch.