A Fallen Hero

by Sharon Kimbra Walsh

  “Say it,” Katie repeated a little louder, her grip on his cock tightening.

  “God damn it! I fucking want you,” Joe said through gritted teeth. “I want to fuck you so fucking bad!” His voice rose on the last word.

  Unable to control himself any longer, he ripped at her damp panties, tossing the silky material away into the darkness. He clutched her thighs in his hands and lifted her up, promptly swinging her around to rest her back against the trunk of the tree.

  In one smooth, powerful movement, he was inside her—deep inside her wet heat—stopping when he couldn’t go any farther—moving minutely backward and forward, teasing her and waiting for a response.

  Katie felt his pulsating hardness—the tiny thrusting movements—and the instantaneous approach of her orgasm. She whimpered with pure ecstasy, gripping the back of Joe’s head and bringing his mouth toward hers in a kiss so hard that it was almost painful.

  Her whole body was a writhing mass of sensation and she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts with an equal force of her own as he began to move in and out of her, burying his cock deep inside her then almost fully withdrawing himself.

  Their moans were loud and unrestrained then too quickly Katie felt the overwhelming, exploding sensation of her orgasm arrive. Every nerve in her body sparked as her senses spiraled up and out into shockwaves that had the whole of her body quaking. She arched her back, her head thudding into the rough trunk of the tree, internal muscles clenching Joe’s cock.

  Joe gasped, feeling his cock clench with surprisingly strong, liquid pulses and he climaxed deep inside her. He slammed into her one final time then buried his face against her warm, perfumed neck.

  “God,” he murmured, his heart hammering against his ribs, his breathing ragged and harsh. “Shit.”

  They both remained motionless, Joe holding Katie tightly until he eventually straightened, withdrew from her and placed her feet gently on the ground. He reorganized his clothing and Katie pulled down the skirt of her dress.

  A small silence stretched between them.

  Joe stood with head lowered, trying to control his breathing, a powerful surge of guilt engulfing him.

  What in the hell have I done? He’d let the barrier come down, let her creep in beneath his defenses, allowed his powerful craving for her to get the better of him. He had used her, which would only hurt her even more after he carried out his plan. He cursed himself in his mind. Fuck, I’m the world’s worst scumbag.

  Joe abruptly put his arms around Katie again and drew her toward him. Lifting her chin with one hand, he said softly, “Hey. You know I love you, don’t you? I’ll always love you, Katie. Whatever happens, honey, please don’t ever forget that.”

  At his words, he felt Katie’s body stiffen. Putting her hands on his shoulders she asked, “I don’t understand, Joe. What do you mean?”

  Joe hesitated. “I know I haven’t been acting right. I’ve been a bastard, actually,” he continued slowly, “and I’m sorry. I’ve hurt you and I make no excuses. But please remember how much I love you.”

  Katie gently touched the side of his face. “I do understand,” she replied. “I love you so much. Whatever the problem is, we can solve it together. You just need to trust in me—in us.”

  Joe sighed, suddenly kissed her gently, then forced a laugh.

  “Come on. We need to get out of here. It wouldn’t do to be seen sneaking out of a grove of trees. It would be pretty obvious what we’d been up to.”

  Katie sighed. “If we must,” she answered.

  With Joe’s arm around her—guiding her out from beneath the trees—he and Katie made their way back across the grass to the car park. Joe opened the car door for her then climbed in himself. After starting the engine, he sat in silence, hands clenched on the steering wheel.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Katie lean across to him, and felt a hand on his arm, kneading the tense muscles gently.

  “Joe, what’s wrong? Talk to me, please.” He heard concern in her voice.

  Joe hesitated, a strangling sensation in his chest that threatened to choke him. He vigorously shook his head and closed his eyes in desperation.

  “I can’t, Katie,” he responded quietly. “If I could I would. I’m sorry.”

  Nodding silently, Katie withdrew her hand and sat back in her seat. Without another word, Joe put the car in gear and drove away from the hotel.

  As they made their way home, Katie felt trepidation as she wondered what was wrong with her husband. She guessed that the barrier was back up and Joe had shut himself away from her again. Their earlier conversation in the grove of trees had struck a chord of uneasiness inside her. Her intuition told her that he had been trying to warn her about something but she had no idea about what.

  On reaching the house, Joe drove into the open garage to park the car then both he and Katie got out to go into the house.

  “Head on upstairs,” he whispered to her, running a finger gently down her cheek. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

  Glancing at him sadly—guessing that he would go into the lounge to sit in the dark to think about whatever was tormenting him—she walked slowly to the stairs and began to climb them. She heard Joe’s footsteps cross the tiled hall floor and silence.

  After what had happened between them at the hotel Katie had—possibly naïvely—thought that everything would be all right between them. She was devastated that even making love to her had not been enough to bring down—or even destroy—the icy shield that Joe had erected around himself.

  On reaching the dark landing, Katie made her way toward the nursery and quietly let herself in. A dim night light in the shape of a fairy lit the room with a soft glow. Making her way toward the cot, Katie leaned over its side and gently caressed her baby girl’s face. Josie, clad in a pale pink night suit with rabbits on it, stirred slightly, pursed her bow-like lips, and carried on sleeping.

  “What are we going to do about your daddy, little one?” Katie murmured, tears filling her eyes. “I love him so much, sweetheart, but I can’t reach him. I don’t think he wants to be loved anymore.”

  A single tear ran down one cheek and dropped into the cot. She straightened up, stepped back and fiercely wiped at her eyes, but the silent sobs continued and more tears trickled down her face. Gulping, she swiftly rubbed at her face, determined not to let the desolate feeling in her heart get the better of her.

  She stood with head bowed, still refusing to allow herself the opportunity of howling out her pain like a child as she so desperately wanted to, then straightened up, and turned toward the door. She jerked slightly with startled surprise seeing her husband standing in the doorway of the nursery watching her, head lowered slightly, eyes gleaming beneath the peak of his cap.

  She stared at him, waiting for him to speak. There was an expression of pain on his face. He lifted a hand toward her as if he was silently asking for her help. In the next instant, however, the moment of communication was lost. His hand clenched into a fist and dropped to his side. His expression hardened, and he backed away from the door, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.

  Katie heard him walk the few paces to their room, the door open softly then close.

  Inside the bedroom, Joe quickly began to undress. After hastily putting on his sleep shorts and T-shirt he hung his uniform in its protective bag, wrapped his cap in tissue paper and put it back in its box, then swathed his spotless gleaming dress shoes in muslin, placing them in the wardrobe. He was just about to get into bed when the bedroom door opened and Katie entered.

  She stopped dead when she saw him as though she had not expected him to be there and still awake. Seeing the look of surprise on her face, Joe smiled slightly.

  “Hey,” he said, walking toward her, “Josie still asleep?”

  “Sound,” Katie replied, walking past him to go into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. He let her go.

  When she came out a few minutes later dressed in a short nightshirt, Joe st
retched out a hand and tenderly touched her arm. She turned to face him and he saw her face streaked with tears.

  “Come here,” he said softly and pulled her toward him.

  Katie went into his arms and he enfolded her in a tight embrace, resting his face against her sweet-smelling hair. She always made him feel so content when he was close to her and it was going to destroy him to do what he had to do.

  “Katie.”

  Joe said her name and waited until she lifted her face from his shoulder. He saw a questioning look in her eyes.

  He paused before he said, “I love you. I love you so very much.”

  Katie touched his face, running a finger along his lips. “I adore you,” she replied softly in return.

  Hearing her voice tremble with emotion, Joe lowered his head and kissed her gently, his mouth moving against hers as though she were as fragile as glass. There was passion in his kiss but it went deeper than that. For the moment, the mental shield that he had erected around his emotions was down—albeit struggling to raise itself—and he was trying to show her with all that he had how deep his feelings for her were.

  At last, he raised his head. “Come on,” he said, “let’s go to bed, it’s late. The little one will be howling her head off before much longer.”

  They went to the bed, folded back the throw, and got beneath the quilt. Katie stretched out to turn off the bedside light but Joe stayed her hand.

  “Leave it on,” he whispered.

  Katie turned to glance over her shoulder at him then shrugged and snuggled down beneath the quilt. Joe spooned in against her back, one hand lifting her nightshirt so that her bare bottom pressed against his groin. His rested his arm across her waist, laying his head on the pillow beside hers.

  She wriggled back against him, pressing her warmth against his skin. His response was immediate as she squirmed against him again.

  Joe chuckled. “Tease,” he growled. “Go to sleep, minx.”

  Katie put a small fist beneath her chin and closed her eyes. Before many minutes had passed, he heard her soft even breathing and knew that she had fallen asleep.

  Joe refused to allow his eyes to close. His emotions in turmoil, he wanted to cherish these last moments with his wife. He needed to feel her warmth against him. It was going to be so cold and empty where he was going and he wanted to watch the way she curled up as she slept.

  He could smell her perfume and although he was becoming aroused again, he was determined not to disturb her. If she woke and discovered what he was going to do, he knew his plan would fall apart. Just the sad heartbreaking look she would give him would be enough to stop him in his tracks and he wouldn’t be able to leave her. She would unintentionally undermine his decision and if he was ever going to lead a normal life again he had to go ahead with his plan.

  Chapter Three

  After what seemed like hours, Joe finally glanced at the digital clock on his bedside table and saw that the red digits were reading 0300 hours. Right on cue, a small whimper sounded from the baby monitor on Katie’s table.

  Unable to stop himself from smiling slightly—it seemed at times as though his daughter had her own timed agenda—Joe carefully and gently moved backward away from Katie, holding his breath as she stirred slightly. Quickly and silently, he got out of bed and made his way to the door, opening it quietly and stepping out into the hallway. He listened for any further sounds of protest from the nursery and when there were none he hurried down the stairs to the kitchen where—his mind comfortably blank with the routine task—he began to heat up a bottle. When he judged the milk was warm enough he hurried back upstairs and went into the nursery.

  Josie was awake and kicking in her cot. Placing a small towel over his shoulder, he gently lifted the little girl into his arms and took her to a rocking chair in the corner of the room. Sitting down, he settled the baby in his arms then began to feed her.

  Joe marveled at how tiny and perfect she was and at how much she resembled both him and Katie. He committed each of her expressions to memory in case he never saw her again. He adored her and it was going to break his heart to leave her.

  Once the baby had finished her milk, Joe got to his feet and, placing her up against his shoulder, he rubbed her back until a very loud burp caused him to laugh gently.

  “For a little thing, you sure do make a big enough noise,” he said softly.

  Josie was already falling asleep as Joe walked her to the cot, but before placing her in it, he stared down at his daughter.

  Lowering his head, he gently kissed the fine, silky hair. “Goodbye, my little girl,” he murmured. “I love you so much.”

  His voice choking on the words and with tears he refused to shed filling his eyes, he laid the little girl in her cot then stood staring down at her.

  “I’m so sorry for doing this to you and your mom,” he whispered, then realizing he was going to break down, he quickly left the nursery and went back in to Katie.

  She was still asleep and he went to silently stand beside her, looking down at her sleeping peacefully, a small smile on her pretty face.

  “Oh, Katie,” he whispered. “What am I going to do to you?”

  He stood by the bed for long seconds, heart pounding and threatening to tear apart with emotion. At last, he shook himself. “I love you,” he whispered.

  He walked back around the bed to the chest of drawers where he stored his underwear and, sliding one of them open as quietly as he could, he lifted up folded garments and drew out two envelopes. He re-closed the drawer and went back to Katie’s side of the bed.

  Placing one envelope upright against the lamp where she would see it when she awoke, Joe took a deep breath and hurried from the room. Moving quickly, he ran quietly down the stairs and into the kitchen.

  He leaned the second envelope against the kettle, where his mother or father would see it first thing, then glanced slowly around the room. His senses drank in all the personal and familiar things that he loved, before he finally straightened his shoulders and let himself into the garage.

  Moving with a purpose, he went to a tall metal cabinet in the corner and reaching up to its top took down a small key and unlocked the door. Inside, on the floor, were his desert combats, body armor, boots, webbing with utility pouches, and his large rucksack with his combat helmet resting on top.

  Not allowing himself time to think—knowing that if he let one element of doubt enter his mind he would not be able to continue—he took off his shorts and T-shirt. Naked, he immediately began to shiver in the chilly air. His feet burning from contact with the gritty concrete, he quickly clothed himself and finally put on and laced up his well-worn combat boots.

  Slowly—and hating himself for doing it—he took off his wedding ring then hesitated, thoughtfully fingering the wide titanium band, gently running the tip of a finger across the warm metal. At last, mentally shaking himself, he undid the chain holding his dog tags around his neck, threaded the ring onto it so it tumbled down to rest next to them then refastened it and put it on back over his head, tucking it inside his T-shirt. Finally, he put his helmet on, shrugged into his rucksack and carrying his body armor in his hand he was finally ready to leave.

  Walking back into the kitchen and from there into the hallway, he went to the front door and paused. Turning to look back over his shoulder, he glanced up the stairs to where his wife, daughter and his parents lay sleeping and for a split second, his resolution wavered.

  Joe wanted to go back upstairs—climb into bed with Katie—cuddle up to her and make love to her and try to forget about the crazy and cruel stunt he was about to pull.

  Torn emotionally in too many directions, he realized, however, that if he didn’t see this through, he would end up destroying everything that he held dear. The anger inside him would eat him up and take over every normal human emotion that made him the man that he had once been—was struggling to remain—and he would never be normal again.

  Opening the front door, he stepped outsi
de into the warm night air and closed it quietly behind him.

  Feeling like a coward for sneaking away in the night like a scavenger, he resolutely stiffened his shoulders and settled his pack more comfortably. Swallowing the huge lump of grief that had formed in his throat and which threatened to choke him, he strode down the path toward the ornate iron gates that protected his parents’ property.

  Once through them, he turned onto the wide road and marched off into the night without looking back, a cold ring of ice forming around his heart.

  Chapter Four

  Katie woke abruptly, bolting upright in bed—her heart pounding in her chest—darting her eyes frantically around the dimly lit bedroom. For a few seconds her mind remained blank although an unknown fear tightened her chest and throat.

  Something is wrong.

  Before she knew what she was doing, she had thrown back the quilt and was on her feet, listening intently to the baby monitor to see if she could hear any noise coming from the nursery. The monitor remained as silent as the bedroom.

  She turned to look at Joe’s side of the bed and was not surprised to see—as usual—that he was gone—the quilt tossed back, the sheet creased, a faint dent in the pillow showing where his head had been resting beside hers. He was probably downstairs in the lounge, alone in the dark room with his equally dark thoughts.

  Katie could hear her breathing, rapid and loud in the silence of the shadowy room. Even though she couldn’t hear any unusual sound in any other part of the house, her sixth sense rang alarm bells.

  Attempting to calm herself, she eliminated the primary things that could be wrong.

  Her baby—the monitor was silent.

  Someone has broken into the house. Joe would be on his or her case already.

  There was something wrong with Maggie and Jack—again—Joe would know about it.

  So, what is it?

  The panic was flaring inside her and gaining in strength. She was acutely aware, with an almost primal intuition that all was not as it should be.