Finding Peace: Baytown Boys

by Maryann Jordan

Shrugging, Ginny replied, “I’m trying.” Since June remained silent, she continued, “It’s not easy. I’m a cop.”

  “So, tell me how that affects you.”

  “I’ve got a duty to the community…I want to be friendly, but it’s sometimes hard to make friends. I’ve only been in town for two years and it’s taken me a while to fit in. And, hell, being the only female cop around isn’t easy. I’ve got to be just as tough, just as dedicated, just as committed as my fellow officers and yet, not seen as some hard-nosed bitch. My time in the military police gave me the balls to do the job, but in the civilian world, in a little town, it’s a hard line to walk.”

  “And your relationships?”

  “I’m good with the guys, which might surprise you considering what I’m dealing with. But I trust the men I work with. And the American Legion and the Auxiliary that we’ve started have given me a sense of fellowship. Coaching gives me a chance to work with some young girls and maybe help make some of them stronger.” Snorting, she added, “And it seems that I’m being inducted into the Katelyn, Jillian, and Tori club.”

  June laughed, “Oh, lordy! I remember those girls from when I worked at the high school. If they’re including you, you’ll have lots of friends to talk to.” Sobering, she said, “Do you plan on talking to them about what happened to you when you were in the service?”

  Ginny looked down at her lap, pondering June’s question. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “My family certainly didn’t take it well when they found out.”

  A soft look on her face, June replied, “Our families are sometimes our biggest critics when they should be our biggest supporters.”

  As Ginny walked out into the sunshine, she slid her sunglasses on her face and thought of June’s words. Yes, they are.

  Sitting in the bleachers, Ginny cheered on the AL boys, watching one round third as he headed toward home plate. Her gaze stopped on third base, lingering on Brogan as he coached. The normally stoic man was animated on the field—cheering and encouraging every player. A smile slipped across her lips as she remembered the touch of his mouth on hers. She had not seen him yesterday, as she had hoped, with work interfering. But he had sent her a text last night and asked her to come to Finn’s for lunch after the games. Still smiling, she realized the bleachers around her were silent.

  Blinking out of her reverie, she observed Tori, Jillian, Katelyn, Jade, and Belle all staring…and smiling. “What?” she asked, her voice more strident than she intended.

  Laughter all around had her blushing, as Katelyn shoulder bumped her. “Nothing. We’re just glad to see that smile on your face, that’s all.”

  “Humph,” Ginny groused, embarrassed to have been caught with a teenage, dreamy expression on her face.

  Before she had a chance to deny the cause of her smile, the boys’ game was over and the bleachers began to empty. As she stepped off the last step, James approached, his jaw tight, his normally easy-going expression buried behind a scowl.

  “Ginny, can I have a word?”

  His surfer, blond looks no longer held her attention now that her eyes were filled with Brogan. Curious, she nodded and followed him to the side of the bleachers. “What can I do for you?”

  He smiled but she immediately noticed it did not reach his eyes. “Well, look honey, here’s the thing—”

  Her hand moved upward as she halted his words. “Honey?”

  Reddening, he said, “No, don’t take that wrong. It’s just a saying…you know, just a greeting.”

  “James, I would prefer if you do not call me honey.”

  His smile dropped as he took a step forward. “Okay, Officer Spencer…is that better?

  She stared at him for a moment until he squirmed slightly before replying, “If this is official, then yes, Officer Spencer is correct. If this is just a friendly conversation, then Ginny is appropriate.”

  He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “I seem to be stepping in it this morning.”

  “James, how can I help you?’’ Wanting to get to Brogan before he left to take some of the kids home, she hoped James would begin talking.

  “Okay, here’s the thing. It seems some of my wrestlers got into a little bit of trouble and I was wondering if you could help them out.”

  A snake of nerves crawled up her spine, but she kept her face impassive. “Trouble?”

  Chuckling, he scuffed one shoe on the dirt as he continued, “They had some girls’ pictures on their phones and got suspended. The girls sent the pictures and my boys didn’t know they were doing anything wrong when they passed them around. You know how boys can be.”

  “No, enlighten me,” she said, her voice cool and steady.

  “Come on, Ginny. They’re horny teenagers. Any chance they can get to look at a naked girl, they will. It’s normal, teenage boy behavior.”

  A lifted eyebrow was the only response he received, so he continued. “If the girls didn’t want the guys staring at them, they should have never sent the pictures.”

  “And if the girls were unaware the pictures were being taken? If they were taken against their will?”

  Eyes wide, James scoffed, “I know some of those girls and, believe me, they’ll pose for anyone, anytime.”

  Heart racing, Ginny forced herself to breathe slowly, struggling to maintain control. “Let me educate you, James. I saw the photographs. Many were not taken with the girls’ knowledge or permission. What the boys did was not just adolescent behavior, which is often a fallacy perpetuated by our society. A woman is not an object, but a human, with the right to privacy. Those boys broke the law and the principal has assured me the expulsion will stay until they have their day in court.” By the time she finished, she was shaking.

  James’ face turned red as he stepped forward menacingly. “You can’t do this. My wrestling team will not lose because of some girls who just want guys to drop at their feet. It’s an attention getting ploy—”

  “You need to back off—”

  A roar sounded to the side as Brogan charged in between Ginny and James. Quick on her feet, Ginny whirled around, placing herself in between the two men.

  “Brogan!” she shouted. Repeating herself several times, she waited for his attention to turn from a murderous look toward James down to hers, concern now on his face.

  “Brogan,” she said, softer this time. “I’ve got this. Don’t do anything that’ll make me have to arrest you.” Looking to the side, she saw a circle of their friends gathered, shielding any of the children from witnessing the scene. Her body quaking, she turned back to James, “You may think what they did was nothing, but I assure you, to those girls, it’s horrific.” Her voice broke on the last word as she swallowed deeply, her heart pounding out of her chest.

  James stared a long minute at her before turning and pushing his way through the crowd. Ginny stood ramrod stiff, her gaze sweeping past Aiden, Mitch, and Grant, before the women led them away.

  She knew Brogan was still at her back—she felt the heat from his body radiating toward her. Dropping her chin to her chest, she said, “Brogan, go home.”

  “No,” came the rumble from behind. “I’m not leaving you.”

  11

  Ginny stared out the window of Brogan’s old truck as they rumbled over the gravel and sand driveway, stopping at a small beach house. Neither spoke as they sat in the cab, the sound of the surf crashing upon the sand in the distance, the only noise.

  Finally, Brogan reached over and placed his hand on hers and said, “Wanna take a walk?”

  Nodding in reply, she opened her door and hopped out, meeting him at the front. He held her gaze and said, “I’d really like to open the door for you when we’re out together…that’s how my Mama and Grandmama taught me. But, I get you’re kinda…uh…raw right now. But maybe in the future…”

  Silently, she nodded again, touched by the vulnerability she saw in his eyes.

  They crossed the dunes in silence, Brogan’s fingers twitching to comfort he
r. Battling with himself, he finally reached over and grabbed her hand as they began walking along the stretch of beach. Nervous, he let out a long breath as she moved her fingers so they were linked with his. Right…it felt right. Recognizing she needed time to process the morning’s events, his lips curved slightly at the corners just knowing she chose to be with him.

  After a few minutes, he moved to sit down on the sand, gently pulling her down next to him. They watched the seagulls flying about, occasionally diving into the surf before rising out with a fish in their beaks.

  “I was naïve,” she began, her words breaking the quiet.

  He turned to look at her but she kept her eyes on the bay, so he followed suit and faced the water again.

  Licking her lips, Ginny said, “My dad was Army. My grandfather was Army. Both career…stayed in thirty years before retiring. My brother joined the Navy after college and became a pilot. My mom was a true, red-white-and-blue Army wife. Packed us up every move, handled life when Dad was deployed, and when Dad said, ‘Jump’, she asked ‘How high?’”

  She looked down at their linked fingers and realized it had been a long time since she sat with a man like this. Somehow, that small gesture touched her heart. Sighing, she continued, “I never considered any other career than the military. I planned on college, but when I was in high school, my brother was killed in a plane crash.” She felt the involuntary squeeze of his fingers, but plunged ahead, “I joined the Army as soon as I graduated from high school and made it to the Military Police. I think I just wanted to do something that made me feel close to my family and make my dad proud.”

  “And was he?”

  Nodding, she said, “Yeah. He never saw any reason for me to go to college and when I graduated from basic training and from my MOS school, it was the proudest I’ve ever seen him be of me.”

  The surf continued its undulations, washing up on the shore and then back out to sea, as they sat, each to their own thoughts.

  “I liked the Army…I like the job I did. It felt important and I was good at it. I was deployed to Afghanistan…to Kandahar. I was mostly on patrol or on gate duty, searching incoming vehicles for bombs.” Seeing him in her peripheral vision as he nodded, she added, “I guess you spent some time there too.”

  Another nod was her answer and she continued. “I thought I understood people. The military is mostly men, especially over there. But I was treated with respect. Got along great with the others in my squad and platoon. There were only a few of us women in the MP, but we worked just as hard as the men. We worked hard, played hard, and had each others’ backs.”

  Turning toward him, her voice imploring, she said, “That was the most important thing over there—having each others’ backs. That could be the difference between making it out alive or coming home in a body bag.”

  At the pleading look in her eyes, he nodded his agreement. “You’re right. Having the backs of your squad could make all the difference.” He watched as her lips pinched and, with a quick, jerking nod, she faced the bay again. “I take it, someone broke that trust?”

  Blowing out a long breath, she nodded. “Yeah…a lot of someones.”

  Brogan gave her time to gather her thoughts, not wanting to rush her story, but could feel his anger building. A slow ember began in his stomach and spread outward, wanting to pound anyone who had ever hurt her. The thought that it was fellow soldiers, made his vision blur. Careful to keep his breathing steady, he sat quietly.

  “It seemed some of our platoon thought it was funny to rig up cameras in the women’s shower—”

  Ginny felt the immediate tension radiating from Brogan’s body next to hers. She halted, uncertain if she should continue.

  “Go on,” his low voice growled, then he added, “Please.”

  Clearing her throat, she said, “It went on for a few weeks. Not just the shower I used, but several of the women’s showers.” With her eyes closed tightly, she relived the memory of when she first found out and her pulse raced. Willing it to slow, she said, “Come to find out, the cameras had actually been placed there by a woman who agreed to do it for the men. The pictures and videos began to circulate and it took a little while for us to find out. By then, there was a dedicated website where the photographs ended up.”

  Looking at their linked fingers, she slid hers back into her lap, wiping her sweaty palms on her jean shorts. “At first, it was hard to get anyone to take our complaint seriously. Our sergeant blew us off…of course, we later found out he was just as guilty as anyone else. We kept going up the chain, trying to get someone to listen to us. I took the lead in ferreting out the guilty ones, but by that time I had alienated almost everyone on my squad. The whole dining facility would silence as I walked in. My bunk was wrecked more times than I can remember. The picture of my brother was stolen.” With that admission, her voice hitched as she battled tears, but she plunged forward, afraid that if she stopped the story, she might never be brave enough to face him again.

  “I was called in and reprimanded for stirring up trouble. I was told that men will just be men and that this was normal behavior. That they were just blowing off steam and needed the diversion. I was told I was making a mountain out of a molehill. I was threatened…even received a note threatening me with sexual assault if I did not quit making a stink.” Snorting, she shook her head. “My body, and the bodies of many women, were plastered all over the Internet, and I was making a stink.”

  “Oh, fuck, Ginny,” Brogan breathed, no longer willing to sit by, not speaking. He wrapped his arm across her shoulders and pulled her into his side, kissing the top of her head. “Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry.”

  “It got so bad that some of the other women begged me to drop it. Let it go. They just wanted to forget, said my attempt to get retribution was making it hard for them. So, in the end, I had few friends.”

  Sighing, she continued, “It finally took one of the other women, an officer, to be exact, who had connections way up, to get the lid blown off the situation. It hit the news back in the States and suddenly it couldn’t be shoved under the carpet anymore. A bunch of fellow soldiers were now facing charges. Some were arrested, some were dishonorably discharged, some received reprimands, and some escaped censure. All in all, it was a fucking mess and I seemed to be at the center. I was sent home to a base in the states to finish out my last months of service, for my own protection, but everyone knew. I went from wanting a career in the Army to only serving one tour and then getting the hell out.”

  “Where did you go?”

  Another snort escaped as she confessed, “I made the huge mistake of going home.”

  Now that she was leaning against his chest, he could not see her face. Needing to peer into her eyes, he pulled back slightly as he craned his head to see her expression. She looked up, her dark eyes full of sadness, sending a sharp stab of pain to his heart. “Why was that a mistake?”

  “Because I was a failure.”

  “Failure? Ginny, honey, you’re not a failure. You’re a goddamn hero,” he growled, his voice rough with emotion.

  Ginny stared at him for a moment, realizing that Brogan calling her honey only slid warmth through her, unlike when James said it. With James, it was a throwaway, meant to placate, but with Brogan’s gravelly words that sent shivers of pleasure down her spine, she felt the endearment and wished they were talking about anything other than what they were.

  “From my father’s perspective, I was a complete and total failure. He met me at the door and said I had one week to find a new job and move on. In no uncertain terms, he labeled me a disgrace to the military and to our family.” Swallowing hard, she added, “He even said that if God had been merciful, my brother would be living and I would be the one with the honorable death in combat.”

  “Oh, fuckin’ hell, no!” Brogan exploded, his body vibrating with anger.

  Ginny watched in fascination as this large man vibrated in rage for her. He jostled her as he jumped up and stalked a few feet away, his
hands on his hips with his legs planted apart, staring at the bay. She stayed silent for a few minutes, waiting to see what he would do. Swallowing audibly, she sat staring at his broad back, the muscles in his body taut.

  Brogan stared out, not seeing the beauty of the beach, his eyes only filled with the ugliness of her words. Family was everything—at least to a MacFarlane. Dropping his chin to his chest, he felt the sting near his heart once more.

  Whirling around, with surprising agility for such a large man, Ginny watched in fascination as Brogan’s blue eyes pinned her to the spot. “No fuckin way, Ginny, did your family turn against you. No fuckin’ way.” His voice was so shattered as to how family could turn their backs on a daughter, his anguish evident.

  Standing, she brushed the sand from the seat of her shorts before walking toward him, only stopping when her toes were right at his. Not touching him, she lifted her head and looked in his eyes. “I left home the next day. My parents have not been in touch for the past five years. I moved in with some people I found on Craig’s List who needed a roommate and, with my Army college fund, I got my degree in Police Science. Finished it in three years even with working almost full time. I’ve been here for the past two years. Never looked back…not at the Army and not at my family.”

  “What about the American Legion? Isn’t that a constant reminder?”

  “I wondered about that,” she admitted, still holding his gaze. Shrugging, she said, “I met a lot of really great people in the Army. I got close to the other women who refused to give up the fight.” Seeing his confusion, she added, “Yeah, some of the women were scared and decided to drop the pursuit of justice. But, there was a small group of us that kept fighting until we won.”

  “You should have been fighting the enemy,” Brogan said, his voice still laced with rage, “not your own platoon.”

  She agreed, but knew no words were necessary, so she just continued to hold his eyes, refusing to look away. If he held censure there, she wanted to see it. But, all she saw was concern.