by Melody Anne
“I don’t give a damn who it is. They can get the hell off my property,” Nick said, unwilling to release her.
“Nick, please, I don’t want someone to walk in and see me like this,” she pled.
Her fingers ripped away from his aching member, and he wanted to cry. Nick couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually shed a tear, but right here, right now, in this moment, he thought he could actually cry.
“They will go away,” he told her, pulling her close to him so she wouldn’t forget how good they felt pressed tightly together.
The bell rang again and several curse words escaped Nick’s mouth. “Don’t move unless it’s to take off those damn sexy pants. I’ll be right back,” he told her.
Whirling on his feet, he spun toward the front door, fury radiating through him. Whoever was out there would surely regret the interruption. He was just about to reach heaven, and there was no reason on earth that he should be interrupted.
Yanking open the front door, Nick was sure he must look like a wild man. His hair was messed, his clothes wrinkled, and his scowl big. He glared at the two military officers standing in front of him. One of them was Paul Holland, an attorney working for JAG. They’d played ball together every weekend for years, until his injury at least, but he’d never before shown up at Nick’s place without telling him he was coming first. And certainly not with another man standing next to him who Nick didn’t know.
“Hi, Nick, sorry for interrupting your evening, but we need to talk.”
“What in the hell about?” Nick’s words came out crisp, but his anger was turning to confusion.
“Sorry. I’m not myself,” Nick said when Paul raised a brow.
“I understand. You’ve been through a lot,” Paul told him. “We really need to talk, though. I’m here as a friend―as a possible attorney if you want me.”
“Why would I need an attorney?” Nick asked. His confusion dimmed the passion he’d been feeling and completely washed away the anger. He heard noises behind him, but he somehow doubted it was Chloe removing her pants and spreading herself open for him on the kitchen counter. He let out a sigh. Another opportunity missed. He feared another one wouldn’t come as soon as he’d need it to.
“You’re being investigated,” Paul told him.
The final bits of Nick’s desire died away as he stared at his longtime friend. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Can I come in?” Paul asked. The man standing with him looked at Nick with sympathy, but he didn’t say a word. Nick decided he needed to know whatever it was they were talking about so he opened his door. He might as well get it over with.
The two men followed him into his kitchen, which, as he’d suspected, Chloe had vacated. He handed them coffee cups, and then they all moved to the table.
“Paul, you can’t hit me with something like this and then leave me hanging as we get comfortable,” Nick said.
“There’s a witness who has come forward saying you were drinking the night of the helicopter crash.” Paul said the words calmly and with disbelief, but it still took several heartbeats before Nick truly understood what his friend had just said to him. He shook his head as he looked from Paul to the stranger and then back to his friend.
“Please explain,” Nick finally said.
“Look, Nick, I don’t know if you’ve made an enemy or what the hell is going on, but I do know your file came across my desk. A respected member of the Coast Guard is swearing under oath he saw you drinking before you went out on the water the night of the crash. The JAG offices decided the case was worth looking into. I came out here to warn you, which I shouldn’t have done, but you very well could be getting served. There’s a good chance it’ll go to trial,” Paul told him.
“I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t understand,” Nick told him as he hung his head. “Who would say such a thing?”
“I can’t name the person at this time, Nick, but he has no strikes against him. He’s considered a credible source.”
“Paul, you know I would never drink while on the job,” Nick said. He was angry he even needed to say it.
“I know that, Nick, your team knows it, your captain knows it. But not everyone at the JAG offices knows you. They have no choice but to investigate. You’re going to need an attorney. People died,” Paul finished quietly.
“Do you think I don’t remember my team dying?” he suddenly shouted. “Trust me, I remember that horrible moment every fucking day!” Fury rushed through him. The guilt he felt at being the only survivor had nearly destroyed him. Now his ethics were being questioned? He felt as if he were spinning out of control.
“Nick, you don’t need to explain this to me. I know you,” Paul said in what Nick decided was his calm attorney tone. Nick was pissed it was being used on him. “But if you officially hire me, we can get started on this and nip it in the bud before things get out of control.”
Nick sat back quietly as he thought about what Paul was saying to him. Did he really need an attorney? He’d done nothing wrong. Shaking his head, he realized that didn’t matter. The law wasn’t in any way black and white, and if there was someone out there wanting to get him, his hiding his head in the sand wasn’t going to make the matter go away. He needed to have a plan of action, and he needed to have it now.
“Yes, I’ll hire you,” Nick said, his voice much calmer.
“Good,” Paul told him. “This is Brandon, my assistant. He’s going to take notes. We need to start with the entire shift you worked. I hope you have time.”
“I’ll make the time,” Nick told him.
Nick had no idea where Chloe had slipped off to, and he should be worried about her overhearing what was going on, but though there were still questions he had about her, his gut told him to trust her. He relied heavily on his gut in his line of work, so he was choosing to listen to it now.
After getting more coffee, Nick sat at the table and let out a sigh. He didn’t want to relive this memory again. It was too painful. Paul looked at him and gave him a reassuring smile.
“I know this is hard, but the smallest of details really do matter,” Paul said.
Nick began. “It was a call like any other, but visibility was low. We had to speak as a team and decide if we were going out. Of course, we agreed and headed to sea.”
Paul took notes as Nick spoke, and though Nick knew he needed to do this, he still somehow felt violated by the act. It was ridiculous, but he was sharing one of the worst moments in his life, and every word he spoke was being analyzed. It was an invasion he resented.
“The sea was really pitching a fit as we reached the boat―”
“Start sooner,” Paul told him. “From when you got the call.”
Nick was growing more frustrated, but it wasn’t Paul’s fault, and he tried desperately not to take it out on the man.
“We were out on the cutter for routine ops. Gail, Pat, John, and I were sitting down having a cup of coffee and giving each other bullshit like normal. It was a typical evening. The sun was just beginning to set. Everything was calm, but we knew there was a storm in the distance.”
“Good. I know this sucks, Nick, but the smallest details matter,” Paul assured him.
“Sitting on our asses drinking coffee matters?” Nick snapped. He wasn’t bothering to apologize this time.
“Yes, it matters,” Paul said, not taking offense.
“Fine,” Nick said. “I got a bit restless, so I got up and went outside to look at the sea and think for a minute. I saw lightning in the distance, but it had to be at least forty miles out. I knew there would be someone caught in the storm, though. I could feel it.”
“Yeah, you seem to have a knack for that,” Paul said.
“Gail joined me, then dragged me over to help her with some gear. We talked about nothing important,” he said.
“What did you talk about?”
“Who the hell knows?” Nick snapped.
“Detail, Nick,” Paul said
again, speaking to Nick as if he were a child.
Nick thought back. “We talked about the storm, about the power of Mother Nature. Crap like that.”
“Good, okay.”
“I finished helping her and walked over to the landing pad. The feeling in my gut was intensifying so I moved to the bridge to listen for any activity coming over the wire. I wasn’t there long when a call came in.”
“What was the call?” Paul asked.
“It was a Mayday. The Southern Belle was in trouble, taking on water. The seas were churning, and the boat was rapidly going down.”
“Good, Nick,” Paul told him. “You have an excellent memory.”
“It was the single worst moment of my life. I remember it like it was yesterday,” Nick told him. His anger had drained, and now, he was filled with sorrow.
“I know. I wish I could say this was the last time you’ll have to recount the story, but it most likely isn’t,” Paul told him.
“Seaman Harper was just a kid, barely out of boot camp, but he kept it together well. He jumped into action, and though his voice was shaking, he replied and took down notes. The Belle crew was growing more and more panicked as they relayed their location and the number of people on board,” Nick continued.
“What came next?” Paul asked.
“The captain was there. He was calm as usual. He told me to get the crew and save the ship’s people,” Nick said. “Then he slapped the alarm to get the crew into motion.”
Nick took a drink of coffee as he tried to take the emotion out of his voice. He needed to quit allowing the story to affect him and simply explain it.
“I made my way down to the changing room and finished suiting up. My adrenaline was pumping as it always does before a flight. My crew was already good to go, and we immediately got situated in the Jayhawk.”
“So there were four of you?” Paul asked.
“Yes, Gail, my copilot; John, our paramedic and mechanic; and Pat, our rescue swimmer. We were a great team,” Nick said, unable to keep the hitch from his voice this time.
“You had a lot of successful rescues before the crash,” Paul agreed.
“Yeah, it doesn’t matter how many rescues when all I can think about is the loss,” Nick admitted.
“Okay, keep going,” Paul told him.
Nick was wrecked. He didn’t want to get into the next part. This was what he desperately wanted to forget. But he wasn’t allowed that luxury.
“We did our preflight check, woke up the Jayhawk, and I checked in with the ship’s crew before we lifted off.”
“Everyone was fine?” Paul said.
“Yes, we wouldn’t have lifted off if we weren’t,” he said. “Gail called in for departure, and once we had clearance, we lifted off.”
“Were there any problems?” Paul asked.
“No. Liftoff was smooth. We headed out toward the troubled boat. All of us could see the storm growing in force as we got farther away from the cutter.”
“How long were you out there?”
“It took about ten minutes until we spotted a strobe beacon and a bright yellow raft. Their ship had gone down that quickly. The sea was whipping them around.”
Paul took more notes, and Nick used the opportunity to take in a deep breath.
“I got us into position and John hooked up to be lowered down. We knew we had to move fast. The harshness of the storm was escalating.”
“What does that mean, Nick?”
“It means if it grew much worse we weren’t going to be able to help anyone,” Nick said.
“So why didn’t you turn back at that point?” Paul asked.
“Because we wanted to rescue them. All of us agreed to get them out of the water,” Nick said. “It was hard controlling the chopper, and the waves were rising higher and higher. I was watching the status of the storm as Gail kept an eye on John while he was lowered.”
“Then what?”
“We got three of the stranded men out of the raft and into the Jayhawk. The fourth was on his way up. It was looking like a success,” Nick said, his words quiet. “We were so damn close.”
“So what went wrong?” Paul asked.
“Our captain called in, and we told him we were bringing the final man up and then would be heading home. We called in for medics.”
“How was the rest of the crew handling the stress?”
“Like the pros they are . . . were,” Nick corrected. He still couldn’t believe they were actually gone. It didn’t make sense to him. “The last man got up, and John gave us the thumbs-up to go home. I turned us back in the right direction, but the lightning was right on top of us. The wind kept picking up as we tried to outrun the worst of the storm. I had never seen such a beautiful sight as the Orca when we returned, even though we saw her getting pounded by the waves.”
“Must have been a bumpy landing,” Paul said.
“Yeah, landing was a challenge, but we set her down, and all of us breathed a sigh of relief,” Nick told him.
“The medics ran out and took the rescued men off. That’s when one of the guys told us they were missing their captain.” If only they hadn’t left a man behind, his crew would still be alive. If only . . . Those words had gone through Nick’s head a thousand times.
“Wasn’t the storm too severe for flight at this point?” Paul questioned.
“It was bad, but not impossible. Gail and I looked at each other, and there was no question of us going back out. We had to at least try to find the captain,” Nick said.
“Did you ask Pat and John if they wanted to go?” Paul questioned.
“I didn’t have to say the words. I turned and looked at them, and they both nodded. If they had shaken their heads it would have been a no-go. We all agree or we don’t go out,” Nick said. “Gail called control and told them we were heading back out to sea.”
“There was zero hesitation?” Paul pushed.
Nick glared at him. “Yes, there was hesitation, but we decided we weren’t going to leave a man behind―not if we didn’t have to,” Nick insisted. “The storm was so much worse, the skies black, the waves high and dangerous. We saw pieces of the Southern Belle and did a sweep of the area as the wind pushed us around. There was no sign of the captain.”
Paul didn’t ask a question this time. He just waited. Nick appreciated that. This was the worst part of the story.
“The alarm sounded and I checked to find our fuel was low. Gail said we had to go back. She didn’t want to leave a man behind any more than the rest of us did, but us crashing into the ocean wouldn’t help save him.” Nick’s tone was void now.
“I turned the chopper around, and that’s when it all went wrong. A bolt of lightning struck us. I held on to the controls, and felt I was fighting a losing battle, but I was in no way ready to give up.”
“Did you speak to the crew at all during this struggle?” Paul asked.
“What does it matter?” Nick asked. “My adrenaline was pumping so high at that point, I can’t believe I remember any of it.”
“I know, but again, the smallest details are important.”
“We slid sideways, heading for a wave. The sliding cargo door came open, swinging wildly half open, half shut. I told Gail we had to pull up. I put the throttle to the max, making the turbine engines scream. I can still hear the sound. We began to lift, but it was too late. A wave crashed into the side of us, filling the Jayhawk with seawater, then the door slammed shut, keeping it inside. We now weighed far too much,” he said. “I couldn’t get her to pull up.”
Nick hadn’t felt the cold, hadn’t felt anything but a desire to get them out of the situation.
“Gail called in a Mayday, telling the captain we were now left with no choice but to jump from the chopper. She was so damn brave. She turned to me and asked if I was ready before repeating it to our guys in the back.”
“So you aborted?”
“We were so close, but you have to know this all happens so damn fast,” Nick said,
running his fingers through his hair.
“Before we could even blink, another wave crashed over us and took us down into the water. We lost communication with each other as we were taken below the water.”
“Do you remember what happened next?”
“I’ll never forget. The windshield shattered, and we were going down. The lights dimmed, then went out as we continued to sink.”
“What next?”
“I woke up on the surface, and my crew was gone.” Nick was finished. He couldn’t take any more of this. He hung his head and fought the emotional pain that was pulling him under as harshly as the sea had.
“I think that’s good for now, Nick,” Paul said.
Nick didn’t have anything left. Paul and Brandon thanked him, gathered their notes, and left the house. Nick wearily walked to his den where he went straight to the bottle of bourbon he had at his corner bar. He might not have been drinking on shift, but he was sure as hell going to drink now.
He poured himself a double and downed it before refilling the crystal glass. He was on his third when he heard movement in the room. His emotions were raw, and he was too bitter to be with anyone, but as Chloe stepped forward, he found himself nearly dropping to his knees in his need for her to come to him.
Their eyes locked together, and Nick found himself even more lost than he had been before. She was either going to be his undoing, or she was going to be the one to help him lift up the pieces of his broken life. He really wasn’t sure which direction the two of them were headed. He closed his eyes, unable to watch as she made her decision.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Chloe stood frozen in the doorway to the den as she watched Nick falling apart. She’d been listening as he’d spoken to the two men. Confusion swirled within her. Was he truly that good of an actor or was he innocent?
Everything she’d been told had made her believe he was the reason that helicopter had gone down―was the reason her brother had died, his body never recovered. She’d had a plan when coming to Nick’s place. Her excuse for getting in had been to help him recover, but she’d been wanting to catch him in his lies.