by Petrova, Em
I step back, slightly reeling from the outpour. It’s nothing I didn’t know but she’s never voiced it like that. The bitterness and fear in her tone eats at me. “Caring for someone isn’t weak, Sienna. You’re a caring person, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
She presses her shaking palms to the countertop. “I just need time. That’s all I’m asking.”
I set my jaw. “Things won’t change. I’ll still love you and you’ll still love me. We need each other, short stuff. That won’t change. Why put us through that?”
“I might need you, but I don’t know if I want you. I don’t know if I want this. There was a woman at the hospital today, she’d had a miscarriage. Her husband was away and they’d just moved. You could tell the strain was killing her and had probably caused the miscarriage. I don’t want that to happen to me—to us. I don’t want to resent you and the job that you love.”
Does she have any idea how painful her words are? I don’t get it. It won’t seem to slot into place in my brain. Surely if she loves me as much as I love her she’d be willing to do anything? I even said I’d quit the army for her. The job I wanted to do since I was a boy. But Sienna doesn’t seem to be able to make the same choices.
“I’m not saying it will be easy.” I speak carefully, wary of my temper flaring inside. “But when is a relationship ever easy?”
“I don’t even know if I want a relationship.” Sienna comes around the counter and jabs at my chest with her finger. “You were the one that pushed for this. You know that. And you pushed me before I was ready.”
“How long do you expect me to wait?” I snatch her wrist and hold it away from me. “How long, Sienna? I’ve been a patient guy. I sat there and held your hand while you were dealing with your marriage and I’ve been here while you pick up the pieces. There’s only so much a guy can take.”
“I didn’t ask you to help!” She tries to pull her wrist from my grip and her eyes widen when I refuse to let her go.
I’m kinda scared to let her go. None of this is going well. I’m too angry and frustrated to think straight, and what happened at the hospital today has clearly confused her.
“Let me go,” she demands quietly and I don’t know if she’s talking about her arm or her. For good.
I swing my gaze from her wrist to her wary gaze and back again. The last act of a desperate man. That’s what this will be. Instead of releasing her, I use her arm to pull her close and wrap my arms around her before she can escape. I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her hard. She lets out a squeak of surprise and struggles against me.
Idiot that I am, I thought she’d melt in my arms but her lips are clenched tightly shut and she’s fighting me. Shit. I release her, burned and ashamed. Sienna stumbles back against the counter and grips the side. Her cheeks are red and indignation—maybe even a little fear—blazes bright in her eyes.
I turn, slam my palm against the wall and take a breath. Damn it to hell, I’ve just proved myself no better than Rob. Without looking at her, I stride into her bedroom and snatch my bag. I take a couple of seconds to grab my toothbrush and shower gel and stuff them into it. Zipping it shut, I come out the bedroom to find her still gripping the breakfast bar.
I blow out a long, low breath. “I’m sorry, Sienna. That was stupid of me. I’m gonna go and give you some space. Just… just be careful, okay? Look after yourself, short stuff.”
Lip tucked under her teeth, she nods slowly. She can’t even meet my gaze. Godammit, I am such an asshole. My knees weaken beneath me as if urging me to fall to my knees and beg her to let me stay but I have a little pride left. Not much when it comes to Sienna, I’ll admit, but I still have a little. I’m not going to force myself on her. Not this time anyway.
My chest aches just thinking about it but I’m going to leave her. I’ll do what she wants, no matter the cost to me. I briefly consider brushing a kiss across her cheek but quickly change my mind. I don’t think she’d take well to it after what I just did. I can’t believe I blew all my damned efforts with such a stupid move.
“See you around.”
She doesn’t respond, just wraps her arms around her waist and nods slowly.
That’s it then. Raking a hand through my hair, I leave her apartment and don’t look back. All I can do is leave and hope she’ll come around. I pray she does as I’m not sure I’ll be able to survive long without her.
***
Sienna
It’s a real battle to drag yourself out of bed when your heart hurts. As soon as I open my eyes, a swirl of dread hits my stomach before I can remember why. This is what you wanted, I remind myself. But I didn’t want heartache and loneliness. I wanted time to find myself.
But what if I’d already found myself? What if that already happened when I was in Nick’s arms?
Scraping a hand through my tangled hair—proof of how badly I’ve slept—I drag myself to the bathroom. After I’ve been to the toilet and had a shower, I study myself in the mirror. Yep, just as bad as I expected. Face drawn, dark circles. My appetite has gone and it’s starting to show. You’d think I’d gone years without Nick, not a week.
I can’t believe he’s not even called or texted. For someone who wanted to marry me, he’s being real cold. Again I remind myself who’s to blame.
Me.
I pushed him away. I said I needed time to think. The problem is, without Nick here, I can’t seem to think straight. What good is space when the place you do your thinking best is wrapped in the arms of another? But now doubt is eating at me. What if he’s changed his mind? What if he’s decided I’m not worth the hassle? A week apart might have made him realize I’m not that great after all.
And I’m not really. But I’m better than I believed I was when I was married to Rob. I’m strong, I know that now. And I’m witty and friendly and kind. I can go out and make friends, and not rely on one person anymore.
I practically see the realization come over my face. What I’d been searching for after I buried Rob has been here all along. It was just hidden—slightly trampled perhaps by Rob. I got lost and Nick helped me find myself again.
Bad things happen. Anything could happen to Nick or me, but shielding myself from it won’t make life any better. I’m truly miserable without him. I know now that the amazing times we have together will more than make up for whatever the military does to us. With my strength and his honesty, we’ve got a really good shot at making it work.
Straightening, I hurry to put on my makeup and brush my hair. I glance at the reflection of my digital clock in the bathroom mirror. “Shit.”
I’m due at work in forty-five minutes. No time to sit around and think. I throw my hair into a messy updo and fling off my towel before slipping into my uniform. Taking the time to toss the towel into the laundry, I pause when a familiar fragrance greets me.
Nick’s cologne. I pluck the T-shirt out of the laundry and hold it to my nose, inhaling deeply. God, I miss him. My heart aches again and confirms what I just figured out. I need Nick. I am willing to do anything—absolutely anything—for Nick. Including becoming a military wife again. I know, deep down, it will be different this time. I won’t shut myself away and allow myself to be treated like a trophy wife, only brought out on special occasions.
I also get that Nick would never treat me that way. He wouldn’t choose a night out with the guys over me and he would never, ever hurt me. There will be times when he’s gone or when we might have to move or have our lives dictated to us, but it will all be worth it. Because I love Nick and Nick loves me.
I hope.
Kneeling, I hunt for my work shoes under the bed. As I put them on, I scan the room for my cell. Should I text him? Call him? Shit, I’ve hardly got any time. I’ve got to have breakfast and get to work in thirty minutes. How can I explain everything in a text? I must have hurt him bad with my constant rejections. If he’s even feeling a fifth of what I am, a text won’t cut it. And I don’t have time for a call. If I’m going to convince Nick
I’m worth loving, then I need time.
Even though I know nothing’s resolved yet, I can’t help feel like I’ve got a spring in my step as I snatch my keys and handbag. I shove the keys into my bag and go to the door, only to have to dash back to the kitchen when I realize I’ve left my cell in the kitchen and forgotten to grab anything for breakfast. I take an apple from the fruit bowl and bite into it as I scroll through my cell. My gaze lands on the last text I got from Nick when he was still staying here.
Get some wine in. I love you. More than anything.
It’s not poetry but it makes my heart skip. Surely if Nick doesn’t feel as strongly as I do, he wouldn’t have stuck around for so long? I stare at it for another moment and nod to myself. I’ve got to try. After work, I’m going straight over to the base and telling him everything. I’ll beg if I have to. Though I’d rather not. Hopefully it won’t come to that.
Hopefully.
My stomach churns with excitement and trepidation. Today I am going to win Nick back. I’m going to tell him exactly how much I love him.
I yank open the door and someone’s standing there, ready to knock. I frown as we both stare at each other. The red-haired man looks as surprised as I do.
“Can I—”
The raised hand shoots for my face and suddenly I’m staring at my beige carpet, stars exploding in my visions, pain radiating through my nose. “What the fuck?” I manage to mutter before a hand clamps over my mouth.
Chapter Ten
Nick
I skim my gaze over the soldier on the treadmill next to me and sigh. I feel ancient compared to him. Past my prime. I push harder and kick up the speed. He’s barely breaking a sweat but I can tell he’s getting a buzz from kicking my ass.
They all look the same, these kids. That cocky gleam in their eye like they can take on the world. I relish it normally. Looking after them, playing some role in molding them. Even though I’m stuck behind a damned desk, I’m not stupid. Being on the front line isn’t the only thing keeping the army running. But on days like today…
On days like today, I’d rather be rolling around in the sand than competing with boys who are only behaving exactly how we’ve taught them to behave. We’ve removed all their fear, spat them out and then the politicians scratch their heads and wonder why we’ve got all these guys who can’t adjust to civilian life. We fill them full of attitude and aggression. Something I could do without right now. All this frustration burning inside me is going to send me over the edge.
He flashes me a grin. “Maybe you should slow it down, Sergeant?”
I bite back a growl and am about to respond when my ringtone sounds from my gym bag. I glare, jab at the treadmill, climb off and snatch my phone out. My heart ricochets in my chest when I pull it out and see the number. Sienna.
I debate my cell for a minute, then slide to answer. “Sienna?”
Nothing. I strain to listen. Has she called me and lost her nerve? God knows, I’ve nearly called her several times this week. I cover the phone and glance at the private. I’m not having some kid listening to me grovel to Sienna so I snatch my bag and head outside. I try again. “Sienna, sweetheart, are you there?”
I pray for her to answer but there’s nothing, just a scratching sound. Maybe she rung by accident. Fuck, I really thought she would have phoned by now. One week without her has been a nightmare. Hell, I normally enjoy dealing with all the issues that arise at work. I relish taking these guys under my wing and trying to remind them they’re not all Superman and it’s damned easy to get killed by being cocky.
But not having Sienna in my life has taken away all my enjoyment. At least when she was married to Rob I still got to see her occasionally, even if it shattered me at times. Not seeing her at all… well, I may as well cut out my own heart. It fucking kills.
In spite of myself, I listen, hoping to hear something. I promised to give her space. That’s the only reason I haven’t contacted her. Because of my stupid promise. But I’ve pushed and pushed and I can’t keep on pushing. What if I’d pushed her into ‘us’? How would I know it was what she really wanted? So I’m going to stick it out and wait. Because, hell, that’s one thing I’m good at, right?
As I listen, I become aware of a scuffling sound. I stand a little straighter. Has she just pocket dialed me? I can hear a voice—a man’s voice. Jealousy makes my gut curl tight and I squeeze the phone hard. But what does it matter? It could be anyone.
I hear a squeal and more scuffling. My pulse bounds a little. This doesn’t sound like a normal conversation. I can’t catch what the guy is saying but it sounds low and threatening. Then Sienna whimpers and I know this is not good. Has she rung me for help?
I’m torn between going to her, and waiting to find out what’s going on. Shit, I never should have left her. I knew something bad was going to happen. My instincts had been warning me since we found the drugs and I ignored them.
I drop my bag, cell still clamped to my ear and fish my keys out. Sprinting to my room, I fumble to open the door and unlock the door. Hurrying around my desk, I yank open the top drawer. My hand hovers over the lockbox. I open it, snatch my grandfather’s pistol out and tuck it into the back of my pants. I pray it fires—it’s a World War II relic. It’s probably going to get me in a lot of shit but I don’t care. Without even responding to any of the salutes as I storm past, I dive out the building for my car. Sienna questions the man. “What do you want with me? Where are you taking me?”
Mentally I beg her to tell me more. Just a hint. If they’re taking her somewhere, she’ll be long gone by the time I reach her apartment. If she’s even there. I’m not sure what shifts she’s working so she could be at the hospital. I fumble to open my car and dive in. Even when I start the engine, I’m still not sure what I’m doing. I can barely make out anything now, just lots of muffled sounds. Anger, fear, regret all pile up inside me, making bile rise in my throat.
My mind keeps running over the what ifs. What if I’d been there with her? What if I never see her again? What if they’re intending to kill her? Then the whys spring up. Why do they even want her? She hasn’t got the damned drugs. And why the fuck did I let my pride get in the way? I should have stuck with her, shown her I’ll always be there no matter what.
Dammit.
I slam my palm down on the steering wheel, put the cell on speakerphone and gun the engine. As I grind out of the parking lot, the line goes dead and I’m fairly certain my heart gives out for a moment too. At that point I decide to head for her apartment. Grabbing her at the hospital would be too difficult. She promised she’d be extra careful there and the security guys were aware of everything that had happened. But at home, I’m willing to bet she let her guard down. If I was a bad guy, it’s where I’d grab her.
What I’m going to do when I get there though, I don’t know. Turn the place upside down until I find her perhaps? Call the cops? I can’t really think straight right now. I’ve no idea what’s going on around me. In fact, I probably shouldn’t be driving. All I can think of is getting to Sienna and pounding my fist into whoever has her. Breaking a few bones would feel great. I promise myself they will pay for hurting her and for the times they scared her and tried to harm her. I will make them pay. My fingers twitch on the wheel as I imagine wrapping my hands around the neck of the guy Sienna kept calling Skinhead. A bitter taste hits my mouth. I’m normally pretty in control of my temper but at the moment my blood is rushing under my skin, pounding in my skull. The need to protect what is mine is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced on the battlefield. I’m not sure I even remember being so angry and scared when we were pinned down and fighting for our lives.
But then we were soldiers, doing what we were trained to do. Sienna never asked for any of this. She doesn’t deserve any of it. Sweet, funny, kind-hearted Sienna only deserves the nicest fucking things to happen to her. If—when—I get her back, I’m going to make damned sure her life is the best it can be.
I pull up outside her a
partment, barely aware of how I got here. My parking is crap but I don’t care. Her car’s still here, but that doesn’t mean much. Thankfully I still remember the door code so I climb out the car, slam the door shut and am in the building within seconds. I slow my pace as I ascend the stairs, aware her attacker could still be around.
Drawing out my pistol, I check it and creep up the stairs. It’s quiet. Her neighbors are probably at work. Even from the bottom of the stairs, I can see her door is ajar. I’m tense. What is it they say? Like a coiled spring? That’s how I feel. Except I have a lot more at stake than a damned spring.
I pause outside the door but everything’s silent. The empty sensation in my gut tells me she’s gone but I can’t take the risk. I carefully and methodically search her apartment, as if I’m clearing a building.
There’s not even any sign of a struggle. No hint as to where she’s been taken aside from an apple discarded on the floor, a bite taken out of it. I scoop up the apple and study it. I’m all ready to leap into action and have nowhere to go. The sharp drop in adrenaline makes my legs shake and I slump onto the couch, put my head in my hands and honestly… I consider crying. My pistol is in the hand near my forehead, so I flick the safety back on.
I draw myself up and skim my gaze about the room. What the hell do I do now? I swear I’ve never felt so powerless in my life. Even when the shrapnel tore through my calf, at least I still managed to keep shooting.
Okay, so I have to do something. I swipe the screen of my cell and go into the kitchen to grab the house phone, knowing I programmed Detective Matthews’s number into it. The door to her bedroom is open and just looking at her bed, still all messy, makes my chest ache. I should have been here. We should have woken up together. It’s an old fashioned belief, but as a man, you feel like you need to protect the women in your life. I should have been here to protect her.