Love Runs Deep

by Gail Chianese

  “Lieutenant Riley?” She spun around to face the young Legalman who had brought her upstairs. “They’re ready for you.”

  Nic took a steadying breath, pressed her hand against her rebelling stomach and nodded. With her head held high she walked in and followed the trial counselor’s instructions to take the stand.

  She refused to make eye contact with Stone.

  Damn the rule that prohibited women from wearing their hair down. If she didn’t have to pull it back she could have used it as a curtain and completely blocked him from her vision.

  Instead she focused on the others in the room, including Commander Holloway—this couldn’t be easy on him or Lieutenant Commander Ward. It happened on their watch and ultimately everything that went on under their command was their responsibility. She hadn’t even thought to ask if they’d received any backlash.

  Chief Boone sat with Cherise and Lindsey, all three giving her supportive nods or thumbs up. A pair of striking hazel eyes met her surprised glance. Chief Faraday, the MA who had come to her aide at the gym and who had escorted the prisoners off the boat, gave her a small smile.

  To her right sat the military panel or jury, two female officers, two male officers and one male master chief.

  Then there was the judge and of course, the opposing counsel.

  The people who would determine a man’s fate.

  People who would pry into her life.

  They had prepped her for this, told her what to expect, what they’d ask, but it hadn’t equipped her for coming face to face with the man who had come damn near close to destroying her career and disrupted her life and so many others.

  Out of the corner of her eye she could see Stone’s smirk as she answered the prosecutor’s questions.

  Cold rage burned inside her. If she could reach across the room and rip his eyes out…she would. Never before had she been filled with such anger and hatred.

  The prosecutor, Lieutenant Commander Marsh, led the conversation to how her life had changed since the discovery of the video and asked her to describe those changes to the court. Words stuck in her throat

  The moment had come, the one she’d been dreading all week where she’d have to confess to these brave men and women what a coward she’d become. Would the skipper have her declared unfit for duty when he found out? Words clogged up in her throat at the thought of bringing more shame on her family or letting down her crew. She looked up, met Chief Boone’s solemn gaze and told her tale.

  When she was done describing the anxiety attacks, the counseling, the sidelong glances and everything else she’d endured she glanced around the room and for the first time looked Stone in the eye. The smirk had disappeared. His shoulders slumped forward. The tips of his ears could outshine a certain reindeer.

  Maybe he was starting to get that this hadn’t been a game or some harmless prank or whatever had gone on inside his head. Maybe there was hope he wouldn’t repeat his mistake. Not that she didn’t still want him to pay for what he did, but the fury inside of her dissipated a little, sort of like going from a category five hurricane to a three. She wasn’t ready to settle down to tropical storm level just yet.

  “Lieutenant Riley, one last question. Given what you’ve been through and the difficulty you have with public facilities, do you feel you can continue to perform your duties as a submarine officer?”

  The million-dollar question.

  Could she go back to sea on a sub or any ship for that matter? Did she even want to? What was left here for here? A ruined reputation. Sure her co-workers had her back, but that didn’t mean the respect extended to their significant others or to the people in the community. She’d seen some of the online comments, and not everyone faulted Stone for his actions.

  Some believed it was to be expected—men and women couldn’t control their natural urges when in close confines. Other said she probably asked for it by dressing in too-tight uniforms or flirting with him.

  Hard to believe that even now, in the advanced age of technology, enlightenment, and equality many people still blamed the woman.

  She didn’t really have friends here, other than Kyle and his brother, and now she didn’t have them either. This one incident had overtaken her life, cast a shadow over every aspect, leaving very little time, energy, or confidence to seek out new friendships.

  If not for Kyle, she would have been a recluse for the past eight weeks.

  Maybe it was time to throw in the towel and take her father up on one of his offers? But that was a decision for another day, for now she’d go with the truth.

  “Can I fulfill my duties?” She let her gaze land on every face in the panel and the audience before answering. “At this time, I do not know.”

  Lindsey gasped, Cherise sat rapidly blinking and Chief Boone got up and left the room, but not before Nic saw him wipe the corner of his eye.

  The prosecutor sat and turned to the defense attorney, who stated no questions. Nic was excused and they called in Kyle before she’d even taken her seat in between her friends. Lindsey held onto her hand and both said something soothing, but Nic’s brain focused solely on Kyle as he took the stand.

  He took her breath away in his summer whites.

  They ran him through all the expected questions and through it all he kept his calm.

  Professional. Precise. Detached.

  She could have been anyone to him as his gaze skimmed over her, landing anywhere but on her. Tired of hearing the same questions, Nic focused on Kyle, specifically his body language looking for a sign, any sign that she or the trial affected him. He sat up straight, eyes on whomever was asking him the question, then meeting those of the panel members before turning back to the original person. His responses were concise and clear. No emotion, no stuttering, no stopping to think.

  His hands didn’t clench in rage like hers had.

  No clamped jaw, flattened or curled lip, high color in his cheeks or raised voice to show he was angry.

  Wasn’t he?

  Didn’t he hate Stone just a little for what he did? Or had Liam nailed it on the head when he suggested Kyle really was behind it all? Even with Kyle’s non-answer, she still had trouble swallowing that story whole.

  Not that it matter now.

  “Lieutenant Hutchinson,” the defense said and paused. “What is your relationship with Lieutenant Riley?”

  Kyle’s eyes met hers, locked on and for a brief flash she saw what might have been pain or regret. He turned to the lawyer. “Nothing more than a former crewmember.”

  Pain seared through her heart at his words and denial of what they’d shared. Not that he’d ever said those three magical words, but she had thought they might be on their way to exchanging them.

  Nothing more, the words ricocheted around her brain.

  Lindsey leaned into her. “Nic, are you okay?” she whispered.

  Nic nodded, but didn’t look up.

  “Sugar, we don’t have to sit in here and listen to this crap.” Cherise nudged her to move.

  Nic squeezed both their hands. “I have to stay. I have to see this finished.”

  It was only then that she looked up at the squeak of the door and realized Kyle had left as they brought in Petty Officer Tarasov.

  Nic sat up straight as they swore in the witness and stared the man down, daring him to look away.

  The trial counsel had at him first.

  “Petty Officer Tarasov, did you help the defendant, Petty Officer Stone in the creation and distribution of the video involving Lieutenant Riley?”

  “Yes, sir. I was his lookout and would warn him whenever anyone headed his way while he was filming her in the shower.”

  “When did Petty Officer Stone approach you to help him?”

  “Initially we talked about it a couple of weeks before we deployed. Just one of those strange conversations while knocking back a few brews at Sally’s. I mentioned that money was tight and he said his girlfriend dra
ined his bank account and he needed a way to supplement his income.” He turned to the judge before continuing. “We batted some ideas around—all totally legit—and then this guy sitting a few seats away started talking about black market videos and all the money in it.”

  The prosecutor tapped his notepad with what sounded like a pen and looked up at the witness. “How did that lead to the idea of taping Lieutenant Riley when she wasn’t assigned to the boat then?”

  “It didn’t at the time. Stone laughed and said maybe he could get his girlfriend to star in some homemade flicks and that was the end of the conversation.” Bright red patches formed on Tarasov’s cheeks. “Then the day after we got underway he brought it up again, only this time he’d tape the Lieutenant using the crawl space next to the officer’s showers, but he needed me to act as lookout. If I helped him, he’d split the money 60/40 with me.”

  Tears streamed down Tarasov’s face.

  “Petty Officer Tarasov, did you and Petty Officer act alone in this endeavor of yours?”

  “Yes. I know he’s accused Lieutenant Hutchinson of ordering him to make the film, but that’s a lie. He wanted me to back him up. I have to live with the mistake I’ve already made and there’s nothing I can do or say to make up for it. I can apologize, not that I expect you to accept it, but I don’t have to compound the wrong I’ve already done with another one.”

  Stone and his attorney bent their heads together, whispering frantically between each other.

  “Lieutenant Cruz, would you like to cross examine the witness,” the judge asked.

  Stone’s attorney stood up. “No, sir. My client would like to change his plea to guilty.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Kyle’s tossed his phone onto a chair as he entered his apartment. He’d made one freaking stop on the way home from the Trial Service Office and the phone had been buzzing since he’d walked into the minimart. All he wanted was a beer or six, and the peace of his living room.

  “Dude.” Keith popped his head out of the bathroom before coming out with a towel wrapped around his bony hips. “You’re back early. What happened? Did they nail his nuts to an anchor and drop him in the sound?”

  “So much for my peace and quiet.” Kyle ignored his brother and unloaded the two six-packs into the fridge, grabbing one before heading into his room to change.

  His personal puppy followed.

  “So, what’s the verdict?”

  Kyle stripped off his uniform. Keith leaned against the doorjamb.

  “Bro, I’ve got to be at work soon. You’re killing me.” He looked away and then glared at Kyle. “I’d text Nic and ask, but yanno… You threatened to kill me and then kick my ass back to California if I made contact with her. Not that that made any sense.”

  “I don’t know. I left.” He took a long pull on his beer and relaxed as the cool liquid hit his parched throat.

  “Okay.” Keith stepped back and disappeared into the bathroom only to pop his head out a second later. “You do know your phone is blowing up, right? Who’s texting you?”

  “Don’t know.” Kyle dropped onto the couch and took another drink. “Don’t care either. I was ordered to testify and then go home and stay here until I heard otherwise from my command. No one said I had to stay sober.”

  “What if that’s your boss?” Keith looked nervously to the phone.

  “If you’re so worried about it, check and while you’re at it, grab me another.” Kyle downed what was left in the bottle.

  Keith picked up the phone on his way to the kitchen. He came back, handed him the bottle and tossed the phone into his lap. “You might want to read those messages from Mace. If I didn’t have to work, I’d celebrate with you.”

  Hitting the message icon, Kyle read through the messages including the one from his CO telling him to be back to work in the morning.

  Relief should be coursing through him.

  He lifted his bottle in salute to karma and laughed. He and his friends had searched all week for someone to clear his name with no luck and yet the person they failed to see was right under their noses and in the end he came through on his own.

  There had been no need to cut Nic out of his life to protect her. All he’d done was ruin a good thing. And then he remembered their conversation in the parking lot and her question.

  Did you have anything to do with the video?

  If she had to ask then ending the relationship was the best thing to do. Without trust they wouldn’t make it a year, much less fifty. Just look at Mace and his wife. All their problems boiled down to Amber not having faith in her husband.

  Kyle didn’t need that kind of bull in his life. He had all the drama he needed and more from his biological family, which reminded him he needed to try to call his mom again and find out what was going on with Kenny.

  He took another slug of the beer. Yep, time to put his focus back on his career and family. Having Keith around had been a wakeup call. He might hate the drama and his father drove him up a wall, down the other side and clear across the field, but he missed them.

  Keith and Kenny needed him. His mom needed him. Nic didn’t.

  “Crap.”

  Kyle turned his head toward the hall waiting with bated breath to find out what the new crisis was all about. He didn’t have to wait long before Keith rushed out of his room, his trusty backpack flung over his shoulder. Kyle didn’t bother asking, he’d hear anyway.

  “I’m running late. Can you give me a ri—” He cut himself off and headed toward the door. “Never mind.”

  “Here.” Kyle dug into his pocket and tossed him the keys to the Charger. “I’m not going anywhere. Just don’t scratch it.”

  His brother thanked him and slammed out the door. Finally the peace and quiet he’d craved all morning. He could get blissfully hammered and not have anyone yammering in his face, asking him questions, or lambasting him for making—what they considered—stupid mistakes.

  He finished off the second bottle and had settled on the couch, remote in hand when Princess PITA jumped into his lap. “Ah, now you want my attention and love, now that the other one has gone.” He stroked his hand down her back and closed his eyes, lost in the sensation and trying not to compare her fur with Nic’s silky hair. “I don’t know why we put up with you traitorous females.”

  Flipping through channels, his third beer sat—untouched—on the table in front of him. Where getting drunk had sounded like a great idea earlier now he didn’t care, just like he didn’t care what he watched, which was why he’d stopped on… What? The Weather Channel. Great, he’d turned into that guy. Next he’d find golf exciting to watch and have half-dozen cats of his own.

  He’d be the crazy cat guy and all the kids in the neighborhood would make jokes about him, egg his house at night and dare each other to ring the bell and run.

  Princess purred under his stilled hand bringing his attention back to his surroundings. “Yes, I know. It’s all about you.”

  The phone buzzed and he read the text from his brother:

  Call Nic and apologize.

  “What the hell do I have to apologize for? I’m not the one who lacked faith in her.” He looked down at the cat who meowed in return.

  “Flipping A, now I’m asking a four-legged furball for advice.” He shook his head and wrapped his hand about the ball of fluff as he leaned forward to grab his beer when the doorbell rang.

  “So much for getting peacefully drunk in the sanctity of my home.” Holding on to the cat, he headed for the door thinking it was the guys since he hadn’t responded to their text messages yet.

  All the air in his lungs rushed out as he stared at the last person he’d expected to see. She’d been crying, not hard enough to leave her pretty almond shaped eyes bloodshot, just enough to gloss them over and turn the tip of her nose pink.

  “You left before the trial ended.” Her soft voice held a touch of sadness and uncertainty.

  “Didn’t s
ee a need after I testified.” He stepped back to let her enter.

  “You missed all the fun with Tarasov’s testimony. Stone pled guilty. I’m not sure if five years in prison, with a reduction to an E1, all loss of his pay and a dishonorable discharge is justice or not.” She scratched the cat’s ears and wandered in to the room.

  “You think he should have got a longer sentence?”

  Considering the man was charged with four felonies, Kyle thought they should have given him the max. Even then, twenty-eight years didn’t seem long enough.

  “A year for each offence plus one wouldn’t have been enough this morning before I took the stand, but now… Does it matter? It’s over. You’ve been cleared of any wrongdoing. A week from now everyone will be back to their normally scheduled lives, but will the sentence reverse the damage he caused?”

  “No.” Kyle gestured to the chair as he and Princess resumed their spot on the couch. It was the only way he could guarantee he’d keep his hands off of Nic, because even though his fingers itched to pull out the pins holding her hair in place and then feel their silky strands, he wasn’t ready to forgive and forget.

  “There’s a reason for that old saying, the pen is mightier than the sword.” Nic glanced at his beer and scrunched up her nose. “It’s barely noon and you’re drinking?”

  “It’s happy hour somewhere.” He lifted the bottle he had no interest in and saluted her before taking a drink. “Why are you here? The guys already told me the outcome, so if that was your intention, thanks but I’d rather celebrate on my own.”

  She scowled again at his bottle. “I’m sorry.”

  That stopped the next drink. “For?”

  “So many things.” She laughed, but the sound was somewhere between desperation and frustration. “For you getting dragged into this mess, listening to my brother, but mostly for even thinking for a moment that you could have—”

  “Leave.”

  The shock on her face should have had him apologizing; instead it fed the fire stoking his anger and disappointment.