I swallowed and jerked my chin out of his hand.
He came closer, pushing me back against the door with his sheer presence. “If I’m the father, then I have paternal rights. And I promise you, if you try to nuke my life and career with this kid and this ‘rape’ bullshit, I will exercise every last one of those rights.”
I just stared at him. Couldn’t speak.Couldn’t breathe.
“If you try to pull this stunt, the only thing you’re going to regret more than carrying that kid to term is accusing me of raping you.” He leaned in, his breath hot on my face. “So I would suggest you let this go and get your ass off this island and into a clinic.”
“You and I both—” My voice cracked, and I coughed before I went on. “You and I both know what it was that night. The SARC will believe—”
“The SARC?” He smirked. “You mean Bill Jackson? Who my wife and I had dinner with the other night and I played golf with just this past weekend?”
My heart dropped.
“That’s right, MA3. And you might be interested to know about the conversation we had out on the green.” His expression hardened. “Seems that false accusations of sexual assault can do a number on a young lady’s career.”
The space between us shrank to almost nothing, and I pressed myself up against the door as hard as I could as he spoke through his teeth. “Bill believes very much in prosecuting sexual assaults. He takes them very seriously.” Stanton put a heavy hand on my shoulder. “And he also believes that false accusations are—”
“It’s not a false accusation and you know it.”
His eyes narrowed, and his hand was somehow even heavier. “Just because you regret it after the fact because I knocked you up doesn’t mean it was assault.”
I laughed bitterly and shrugged his hand away, though the door behind my back kept me from escaping completely. “You know what happened.”
“And so do you. Now do we have an understanding?”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I refused to believe he’d backed me against a metaphorical wall as well as the physical one.
“Do we have an understanding, MA3?”
I gritted my teeth. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” He took a step back, which allowed me to release my breath. “I’ll expect your leave chit before the end of the day. And if you get it done on-island, at least use a little common sense and get it done off-base. So there’s no record and no question.”
“I can’t . . .” I stood straighter. “I can’t afford something like that.”
“I figured you couldn’t. All the more reason to get it done, am I right, MA3?” He sneered. “If you can’t afford to get rid of it, you can’t afford to keep it, either.” He turned around and snatched something off his desk. He shoved it at me, and I took it without thinking. As soon as it was in my hand, I could tell exactly what it was by the weight and thickness—an envelope stuffed with cash. “That will cover it.”
“You know how much an abortion costs off-base?”
Stanton glared at me, and I shrank back, phantom hands gripping my upper arms all over again.
“Get it done, MA3.”
I clutched the envelope. “Yes, Sir.”
“Dismissed.”
I left his office and sprinted straight to the ladies’ room.
When nothing else would come up, I sat back on my heels in the stall and wiped my mouth with a shaking hand. What the hell was I supposed to do now? Give in and move on? Stand up to him and risk him exercising his parental rights?
And on top of it all, for the millionth time since Senior Chief O’Leary’s retirement party, the same question ran through my mind:
Did he rape me?
I wanted to believe he hadn’t because I didn’t want to believe that could happen to me. It was something that happened in sexual assault response-training anecdotes. It happened to people in other places. Millions of miles away. Not me. Not a cop. It didn’t. It couldn’t!
But I’d said no, and the sex had happened anyway.
Countless hours of law enforcement training echoed through my mind. All those catch phrases—No means no. Rape doesn’t have to be violent. Coercion counts—meant nothing while I sat on a dirty bathroom floor, pregnant with the baby of a man I’d never have slept with voluntarily.
And what the hell did it matter anyway? He was friends with everyone in our incestuous, good ole boys chain of command. Including the Sexual Assault Response Coordinator. Who didn’t tolerate girls making false accusations of rape. No matter what had really happened, the fact remained it was my word against Stanton’s, and the word of a girl with a slutty reputation and only one chevron on her collar didn’t carry much weight against a respected officer’s.
I closed my eyes, my heart sinking as my stomach threatened to lurch again. My eyes stung, and I told myself it was from puking or hormones or anything besides the realization that I had no options here. No choice but to walk away from as much of this situation as I could and move on.
I forced myself to my feet, flushed the toilet, and went to the sink. I rinsed out my mouth and cleaned up my face, clearing away the muddy smears of mascara and eyeliner so I looked halfway presentable.
Hands on the edges of the sink, I met my own gaze in the mirror.
I know the truth. Even if he never goes down for it, he still has to sleep at night.
I know what happened, but I have to take care of myself.
Even if it means he walks away scot-free.
My eyes threatened to tear up again, and I dabbed at them with a paper towel. Then I took a few slow, deep breaths and ordered myself to get through this. Maybe Stanton would get away with what he did, and it would be up to karma to serve any justice, but he would not beat me down. This would not destroy me.
Once I was sure my composure wasn’t going to fall apart, I left the ladies’ room and headed down the hall to MA1 Gutiérrez’s office.
His door was open, so I tapped my knuckle on the frame. “MA1?”
He looked up from his paperwork, and his expression stayed neutral as he set his pen down and folded his hands. “What can I do for you, MA3?”
“I, um . . .” I stepped into his office and shut the door behind me. “I need to put in a leave chit. If I route one today, can my leave start tomorrow?”
“Is it an emergency?”
Yes. Holy shit, yes. “No. But I . . . It’s a personal matter. With all due respect, it’s something I need to address and would rather not get into.”
His eyebrows rose. I expected him to mention they were short on bodies, that staffing was difficult right now as it was without someone disappearing on a moment’s notice, but he just said, “Do you have all the information? Flights? Hotel?”
“I’ll be taking a Space-A flight. To Hawaii. I . . . haven’t booked the hotel yet.”
“It needs to be on the chit.”
“I know.” I locked eyes with him and gulped. “I’ll . . . I’ll work out all the details.”
“How long do you need?”
“Probably ten days.”
He steepled his fingers. “Give it to me in the next hour, and I’ll make sure it’s signed off by the end of the day.” As he spoke, some tension melted out of his shoulders. He seemed to stop just short of breathing a sigh of relief, but I had a feeling that would happen as soon as I left his office.
Thanks, MA1. Nice to know whose side you’re on here.
Oh Christ. Now what?
In the passenger seat of the patrol car, I stared at my silent cell phone.
“What was that all about?” Weiss asked.
“That was Gutiérrez. He wants me to come back.”
“Again?” He huffed sharply. “We haven’t even made our rounds yet.”
“Must be something important.” I sipped my water to moisten my suddenly dry mouth. “Just take me back. Whatever it is, it probably won’t take long.”
“Does this mean I’m going to be stuck in dispatch while you’re off running er
rands again?”
“Let’s hope not.”
While he turned the car around, I shoved my phone in my pocket and dug out my cigarettes and lighter.
“Want one?”
“I just had one. So did you.”
I put a smoke between my lips. “Suit yourself.”
In the time it took him to drive us from Camp Shields, where we’d been assigned for the day, back to White Beach, I went through two cigarettes. As he pulled up in front of the precinct, I was seriously considering a third. The only thing that stopped me was the fact that I was already creeping up on two and a half packs a day, and I refused to reach three.
We walked inside, and Weiss disappeared down the hall, probably so he could shoot the shit with whoever was working in dispatch.
Alejandro’s door was open, so I walked straight into his office. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.” He stood as I closed the door. “What did Lockhoff say yesterday?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Nothing at all?”
I shook my head. Don’t make me betray her confidence, Alejandro. I’m already on thin ice with her.
“But she did go to medical?”
“Um . . .”
His eyebrow arched. “I thought you were—”
“She opted not to go.”
“What? Why?”
I glared at him. “You know I couldn’t divulge anything medical even if I wanted to.”
Not unless a crime was committed. Which it was. But I don’t “know” that.
“I know. I know.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “I’m just concerned about her.” He paused. “Reese, I’m not asking you to tell me what all she said, or what she might’ve told medical, but . . . in your opinion, what happened between her and Stanton?”
I didn’t look away but didn’t answer, either.
He sighed. “I’m just trying to get a handle on the situation here. Give me something so I know what to do.”
I opened my mouth to speak but hesitated before suggesting he put Kim on light duty. That usually meant working in dispatch, which was right down the hall from Stanton’s office. While she had no business being out on patrol right now, especially in this heat, putting her in dispatch would be beyond the pale.
“Please.” His voice was soft, almost pleading. “Just help me out here.”
“I don’t think she and Stanton should be working in the same building.” I cleared my throat. “Maybe she should go out on patrol with me.”
Alejandro tilted his head. “Why?”
“Because then she’ll be away from him.” I swallowed. “And we can work traffic duty in housing on Camp Shields. Something easy.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “You hate traffic detail.”
“Of course I do. But I don’t think—” I caught myself and chewed my lip.
“Nothing leaves this office, Reese. Just say it.”
I gulped. “I don’t think she should be standing as a gate sentry because of the heat, and I don’t think she should be responding to domestics because of the risk.”
“Because of the . . .” Alejandro studied me for a moment, then exhaled. “Fucking idiot. Damn it. I was really hoping I was wrong.”
“Did you actually think you were?”
“No. But hope springs eternal.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “And Stanton? Jesus. I know she’s young, but you’d think any woman who’s serious about her career would know better than to fuck her superior.”
Under normal circumstances, I’d have agreed with him, though I’d have pointed out the particular breed of female Sailor who calculatedly slept her way to commendations and promotions. Not to mention the girls who joined the Navy and happily took advantage of the massively disproportionate dick-to-chick ratio in every command. In fact, up until yesterday, I’d leaned toward putting Lockhoff in the latter category. Now . . .
“So what are you going to do?” I asked.
“Not much, at this point. She’s . . .” He picked up a leave chit from his desk. “She’s requested leave. Said she’ll be off-island for a while.”
My mouth went dry. “When?”
“Tomorrow. Her leave starts at the end of shift today.” He sighed, gazing down at the chit in his hand. “Maybe some time away will be good for her. Give her a chance to get her head together.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
Alejandro set the chit aside and touched my arm. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I avoided his eyes. “I just don’t like being involved in this kind of thing. It—” The unspoken words tasted acidic, and I had to keep what little I knew confidential for now anyway. “It just seems like something that should be between them.”
He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, well. If this comes out, it’s going to be between them, his wife, and the entire chain of command.”
And, if the truth comes out, a couple of JAG lawyers and a judge.
“Well—” I moistened my lips. “—I guess we’ll just hope she comes back from leave and makes a fresh start.”
He nodded. “Let’s hope so.”
I couldn’t get Lockhoff or her situation out of my mind. My guilty conscience gnawed its way deeper every time I replayed our conversation. She must’ve loathed me after that.
Damn it. I needed to make things right with her. And let her know she wasn’t actually alone—something I would’ve killed for in the not-too-distant past.
Catching up to Lockhoff was a challenge. Today, she was on patrol at Camp Shields, which was about forty-five minutes away, clear over by Kadena Air Base. At least if she’d been standing watch somewhere or posted at one of the gates, I could’ve gone there to talk to her. Patrol duty made her a moving target.
Toward the end of shift, I came up with a bullshit excuse to go back to the precinct. At least Weiss was used to Alejandro calling me in, so he didn’t bat an eye. Why would he question getting in early from our own patrol, since this meant he could chill in dispatch or hang out in the smoke pit before heading home?
We turned our guns into the armory, and Weiss wandered outside. As much as I needed a cigarette myself, I hung around and shot the shit with MA1 Harris and a couple of the civilian contractors, all the while keeping an eye on the front door.
Two by two, the other MAs came back and headed into the armory to turn in their weapons. With every pair that returned, I had a harder time sitting still. My stomach was twisted into knots, my head going a million miles an hour, and nothing was going to calm down until I had a chance to talk to—
The door opened again, and two backlit silhouettes came in from outside. I knew in an instant the second one was Lockhoff. She was shorter than her partner, with a distinctly feminine profile that even the uniform and police belt couldn’t quite hide, and I just . . . knew it was her.
The door banged shut, cutting off the blinding afternoon sun, and when my eyes adjusted, I was right—there she was.
“Hey, MA3.” I pushed myself off the edge of the desk where I’d been sitting.
She halted, eyeing me warily, but didn’t speak. I gestured for her to follow me out into the hallway.
She planted her feet. “I need to download.” She gestured at the pistol on her hip.
“Okay. Can you meet me in one of the conference rooms, then?”
A thin eyebrow rose, her lips tightening with suspicion. But she nodded. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
She followed her partner toward the armory, and I went to wait for her. One room was occupied by a class, so she’d have no trouble figuring out which one I was in. I just hoped she actually came.
I paced in front of the rows of folding chairs, trying to will my heart to slow down before I wound up in medical. I wondered if I had time for a cigarette. The armory was pretty slow this time of day, after all. The guys in there liked taking their sweet time as it was, and at the end of shift, they might have a dozen MAs lined up to download their weapons.
But if I went out for a smoke, Lo
ckhoff would probably come in here, see that I wasn’t around, and take off. And then I’d never get any damned sleep. The cigarette could wait. This could not.
Boots hitting linoleum stopped me in my tracks, and I turned around as Lockhoff appeared in the doorway. She hovered there, arms folded across her buttoned-up camouflage blouse, but she didn’t come in.
“You, um, wanted to see me?”
“Yeah.” I faced her fully, sliding my hands into my pockets to keep from looking confrontational or defensive. “Listen, I feel really bad about yesterday.”
Her features hardened, but she didn’t say anything.
“Do you have any plans?” I asked. “For after work?”
The eyebrow rose again. She shifted her weight, her boot squeaking. “Uh, no. Why?”
“Let me buy you dinner. Maybe over on Camp Shields? At the E-club?”
Lockhoff tilted her head, studying me for a long moment. “Um. Okay. I guess?”
“Okay.” I exhaled. We hadn’t had The Conversation yet, but at least she was willing to talk. It was a start. “I need to drop Weiss off at home. Then I’ll meet you there?”
She didn’t move. “MA2, this—”
“This is off the record,” I said quietly. “Just call me Reese.”
She swallowed. “Okay. Reese. What exactly is going on? I mean, okay, I get it. You’re sorry.” She hugged herself tighter. “Do we really need to drag this out and make a big thing out of it?”
“I . . .” I struggled to hold her gaze. “Yes. I owe you more than an apology.”
Her forehead creased. “Why?”
My stomach roiled with shame, guilt, and too many years of biting my tongue. Finally, I took a deep breath. “Because we might have more in common than you think.”
I wasn’t totally sure why I’d agreed to see MA2 Marion. Reese. She’d already apologized a few times, and while I was still pissed off that she’d doubted me, I was obviously more over it than she was. There was nothing about this that could be resolved over greasy hamburgers and mason jar sodas.
But that last comment she’d made had me curious. Insanely curious.
We had more in common than I thought? I doubted she was pregnant, not unless she was much closer to MA1 Gutiérrez than I’d guessed, which only left . . .
Razor Wire Page 4