The Years Between (Sister Series, 1.5)

by Davis, Leanne

  His temples started to burn as blood flowed through them in a harsh rush. Where was she? What was she doing to herself? The pets. Where were they?

  He ran out of their room and flung open the back door. The dogs were both out there, wagging their tales happily at his appearance before trotting over to his feet.

  What the hell?

  “Will?”

  He turned when his name was called from the front door. Bella.

  “She’s with me,” Bella yelled as she scanned the room and stepped inside.

  He gripped the edge of the chair in relief. “She’s okay?”

  Bella stepped forward quickly, her expression tight and full of sympathy. “Yes, yes, she’s fine. Relax, Will. Everything’s okay.”

  He let out a breath. Relax? Yeah, fucking right! Bella didn’t know what she was asking him.

  “How did you get involved? Did you find her? Did she hurt herself?”

  Bella’s expression turned to surprise, “No. She came over to my house. I take it, that’s huge. I didn’t realize it until I saw your face. She knocked on the door and asked to come in to talk. She’s been crying. But, Will, she’s perfectly rational. She’s just talking to me. She’s okay. Really.”

  He pulled the chair out and sat down, suddenly exhausted, and feeling like he did after a particularly dangerous or stressful mission. The adrenaline that kept him going seemed to spurt from his body like blood from a gunshot hole.

  “She’s really okay?”

  Bella nodded firmly. “Yes. Really. I saw you pull in so I rushed over. She was in the bathroom.”

  “Sh-she came to you? Of her own free will and told you what was wrong? Is she, I mean, was she bleeding anywhere?”

  “She didn’t cut herself. She simply wanted to talk.”

  Will didn’t know she told Bella her secret. “She’s in the bathroom?

  “Going pee. I swear! I happened to notice your truck after she went inside. I ran out to tell you. Come over. Talk to her. You both really need to talk.”

  He started to stand up and Jessie suddenly appeared in the doorway. He paused. His lungs hurt to breathe. She stared across at him, her eyes big and stark. The moment went on and on. He couldn’t move. His limbs felt like lead had suddenly flowed into them. She was okay. Bella cleared her throat. “Ah, I’ll leave you two alone.”

  Jessie glanced at her with a soft, half smile as Bella passed by her with a little squeeze of her wrist. Jessie covered Bella’s hand with a quick clasp. He glanced at their soft, friendly, supportive contact. Holy shit! Jessie really had a friend. Bella left.

  They stared at each other again. She swallowed. “Will—”

  He shook his head, crossed the room, and picked her up, drawing her to him in a hug that nearly squeezed the life-blood from her. He was done being stubborn and right. Or not right. He was just done hurting her.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as his lips found her skin just below her ear. There was so much more to say, but he couldn’t, not right then. The magnitude of what they should say was lost to him. He moved his mouth to her cheek and kissed it, trailing kisses to her mouth. Lifting a foot, he kicked the door shut, and brought her to the couch, where he set her down. His lips touched hers, and he kept his mouth carefully closed. He kissed her for minutes, touching her hair, face and forehead.

  She finally laughed softly and drew back far enough to put her small hands on his wrists, where his hands cupped her face. “I’m okay. Really.”

  He shuddered. “I was afraid. When you weren’t here…”

  “I realized that as soon as I saw your truck. I know what you were afraid of. I didn’t think you’d come home.”

  “How could you think calling me five times with a vague, pleading message wouldn’t make me come home to you?”

  She closed her eyes. He touched his thumb to the corner of her eye. “Why did you tear apart the bedroom? Not your usual thing.”

  She slowly fluttered her lashes and finally met his imploring gaze. “I was so mad. I wanted to cut. I wanted to do something. I felt so bad.” He drew in a breath as he realized he caused her to feel that way. “But then, it made me so mad that I was reacting like that. It made me so mad we couldn’t just fight. By wanting to do those things, I was merely proving you were right about me. I was being fragile and broken so you would be right and not tell me things.”

  “It made you mad?”

  “Yes. Furious. I’m not normal. I don’t react normally. And I simply only want to be normal.”

  “So you ripped the room apart?”

  She smiled faintly. “I was frustrated.”

  “But then? You just went to Bella’s?”

  “I did. I was huffing and puffing after the five-minute burst of anger and taking it out on the room. While laying there on the floor, amidst all the clothes, it occurred to me how stupid I looked and how stupid I was acting. I didn’t have to be alone. I didn’t have to do this. I could simply go to my friend’s house. So I did.”

  “So you did?” he repeated as if she spoke in a foreign language. She sought her own help? From someone besides him?

  She nodded slowly. “Bella sat me down at her kitchen table, and made me calm down and tell her what I was so upset about. And I did. And she talked to me and made some good points.”

  “Yeah? And what did Bella point out?”

  “That it was just a fight. We are allowed to fight. We are allowed to disagree. It doesn’t mean anything. I had it built up in my head that we could not fight. That we had to be perfect, or I had to accept you were always right. We can’t really be together in a way that lasts. She pointed out that she and Finn have fights. They yell. They argue. They say things they shouldn’t. She said…”

  “What?”

  “Welcome to being married, Jessie.”

  He stared at his wife for a long, moment. She stared back and started to smile. He was shocked when he felt like smiling back. “Welcome to marriage, huh? What’s her point? We aren’t that special?”

  She nodded. “Yes; all couples fight. All couples disagree. Doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be married. Doesn’t alter their love for each other.”

  It was such simple, obvious advice. Stuff they missed, because they just weren’t used to being normal. “Do you think… she’s right?”

  Jessie grinned fully. “I do.”

  He frowned, appearing confused. He never fought with Gretchen. She didn’t fight. She had a logical, calm demeanor. Anytime they disagreed, he just listened to what she had to say or vice versa, and they compromised. He never worried too much about it. Or how she felt. Or how he felt. He leaned his forehead into Jessie’s. “I like that better than what I was thinking.”

  “Which was?”

  “We are so fragile, we can’t talk about anything.”

  “I don’t think we are. I think we just have to learn how to talk to each other.”

  “Okay. So I guess we need to talk this out.”

  He stood up and stepped back. She hopped off the couch with a nod. “Okay. Talking. No leaving the room until this is worked out. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  They sat at the kitchen table straight across from each other. She waved her hand. “Who goes first?”

  “I shouldn’t have said the parting shot last night.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have. That was mean. And unlike you.”

  He had to touch her so he reached across the table and took her hand. “I won’t be mean again.”

  She shrugged. “You probably will. We both probably will. Don’t you think over our years together it is bound to happen again?”

  “Years together?” His face reflected his surprise.

  “You never really think of us being together for years, do you?”

  He frowned as he realized her words struck home. He was only thinking of getting through now. “Years. I’m starting to see that.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about my father?”

  “He wasn’t your father.”


  She slipped her hand from his, leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “He was, Will. He was my father. Good or bad, he’s the man who raised me. And the only one I think of as my father.”

  He sighed. “I know.”

  “I got so upset because years ago, you didn’t tell me he was responsible for Mexico, or that he was not my biological father. You turned around and treated me as if I were that same person you left in your apartment all those years ago. I am not. And I don’t deserve to be treated as such. I understood why you didn’t tell me about my father back then. I did. But now? I don’t deserve your doubt.”

  “Okay, said that way, maybe you’re right. I shouldn’t have kept it from you. Maybe it is a habit, left over from when I really couldn’t tell you things. You get mad now, but you also forget sometimes what I live with and have witnessed. Sometimes it makes me nuts when you forget what I watched. What I know was true; and I witnessed the emotional fragility that was you. It wasn’t my imagination. It was a real, awful thing. So it’s easy, a habit really, for me to feel the need to protect you.”

  She bit her lip. “Okay, fair points. But we agreed to be honest with each other. Then you immediately turn around and aren’t. I don’t understand how could you do that.”

  “I did it,” he admitted honestly, “because I feared you might disappear from me. I’ll do anything to keep you from getting hurt. You have to understand that. It kills me to think about what was done to you. What I witnessed. What I can’t stop you from feeling still. If I can prevent you from hurting yourself, I will.”

  “But you hurt me more by not trusting me. I do a lot of things to work on my problems. But you’re undermining those, and ignoring the progress I’ve made. The recovery I’m in often pushes me back to feeling like helpless Jessie Bains again.”

  “I never want you to feel that way again. That is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

  She leaned forward and put her small hand on his forearms. “I should never have said that either. I know that you don’t. I do. I’m sorry I said that last night. That was meaner than what you said.”

  He set his hand over hers on his arm. “We agree we said things we shouldn’t have. And acted inappropriately. Do you want to hear it all now? Everything I know? What I think? You’re not going to like most of it. It scares the shit out of me to tell you. It’s easier for me to leave here and face insurgence than to tell you what I know, feel and think.”

  She took a sharp breath. “Because it goes back to my father?”

  “Yes.”

  She shut her eyes. “Okay. Then tell me what you know, feel and think.”

  He kept his hand firmly on hers. “I took the money. I want to use it to buy acreage when we go back to Ellensburg. I want to take a year off work and build a house on our land. I want to build you, I mean, us, the home neither of us ever had as kids, teens, or even adults. I want to spend all my time with you in-between simply because I’ve never had the luxury of doing so. I want to stay in your old apartment at the Clapsmiths and let you tend the horses, or whatever the hell you want to do. And then, when we’re ready, I want to move into a home we can build our future in. Grow our family in. Our own place, where we can change the entire course of what made our lives isolated and sad, and start a happy one together.”

  Her eyes grew rounder the longer he talked and her mouth dropped open. She finally closed it as she swallowed. “Oh my God. That is not what I expected you to say. I expected… my God. It’s beautiful. What you just described. You’ve actually thought of all this?”

  “Yes. Intensely. I think about it all the time. While I’m on duty. While I’m training. While I’m lying down, bored in the bunk. I think about it all the time. But I can’t afford it. If we don’t use the money from Fuck-face’s estate, we will be scrimping, saving and working hard. I’ve worked hard all my life. You’ve suffered all of yours. I just wanted a fucking year where we aren’t working hard and suffering. Where we are just… together. This could provide that. So you know what? It is about the money. The money does matter. And I think it’s owed to you. He was your father. Part of that money came from the household of your mother. So I fucking think you deserve to use it if only to snub his sadistic, perverted ass in the face.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

  “Because it was all based on money I knew you would think of as blood money. I don’t know much in this world, Jess, but I do know you.”

  She nodded. Her voice was soft when she spoke. “I know you do. I know why too. I know why you didn’t tell me. I just wish you wouldn’t feel the need not to.”

  “Well, me too. You’re my wife. Not my child. I know that. No matter what you think, I want to tell you this stuff. I want to tell you everything and not worry that it’s going to send you off the deep end. But if it does, I’m here for that too. And I see now, in hindsight, I should have just told you.”

  She cleared her throat. “No. You probably shouldn’t have.”

  “You’re becoming stronger the longer we’re together. You really doubted me at first.”

  She flinched. “Okay. I did. I worried if I did something wrong, you would take it as a reason to flee again, all in the spirit of doing what was best for me.”

  “I knew I wasn’t going to leave you ever again. But I had to convince you first. So here I am doing that.”

  “You really want to do all those things?”

  “Yes. Does that interest you?”

  She finally let a slow, big smile fill her face. “Yes. It sounds like all I want to do.”

  “Nine months. Nine months until we can do it.”

  “If we use my father’s money.”

  He shrugged. “Or we could call it your mother’s money.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “I never, ever thought of it like that.”

  “Well, you could.”

  She slowly shook her head. “Yes, I really could think of it like that. Holy shit! I really could.”

  He nodded his head with her. “Yes, we could.”

  “I love the thought of my mother’s money.”

  He took another huge breath. “There’s more. You said you wanted it all.”

  Her jubilation dimmed. “Yes. What? What else could there be? He’s dead. He’s gone. We’ve been through it all.”

  “Not all of it.”

  “What?”

  “They’re still there.”

  Her eyebrows lowered in confusion. “Who is still there?”

  “The people that did that to you. They are still in the same location in Mexico.”

  Her entire body froze up. “H-how do you know?”

  “I checked.”

  Her face went blank and all the color drained. She turned her head from him as if he hit her. He got up and went around the table to kneel right beside her. He took her hands in his. They were cold. “I stopped through on my way home from Africa.”

  “How did you just stop through?”

  “I took a few days and went down there.”

  Her mouth was a giant O. “That’s why you surprised me?”

  He nodded, holding her gaze, guessing what that betrayal would feel like to her.

  She shook her head over and over. “How could you do that? Why would you do that?”

  “Because I remember his face.”

  “Whose face?”

  “The leader. I think it was the leader. The only one that wore a suit.”

  Her body convulsed. “I-I don’t understand what you’re telling me.”

  “I’m telling you: I know who it is. I know where they are. And I can’t let it go.”

  “Let what go?”

  “What was done to you, right in front of me.”

  She kept her eyes tightly shut. “You didn’t watch all of it. You said you couldn’t stand to watch it. You said you were there, and did reconnaissance, but you didn’t watch that.”

  “I saw enough. I heard enough. I heard you. You think it affects you? Well, i
t does me too. It about broke me in half. It’s why I left you. I couldn’t stand the guilt. I dream about it. I think about it too. I think about it almost as much as I think about spending a full year only with you. I spend all my time defending people in other countries. I can kill people I’ve never met who’ve done nothing to me, but the ones who did, and ruined your life, I did nothing about.”

  She gasped, her voice rising in anxiety. “What are you talking about?

  He held her arms in his and stared right into her eyes. “I’m talking about going back there and killing them.”

  She started shaking her head. “You’re sounding crazy. That was in the past. We are moving on. We are moving forward. We’re talking about our life together, and you tell me you want to go back to Mexico? How could you even say that to me? How could you? I can’t believe you would do that to me.”

  “I don’t want to. But I can’t stand it,” he said finally after several moments of taut silence.

  “What can’t you stand?”

  “That no one ever paid for what happened to you. Not one fucking person who ever hurt you ever got punished.”

  She started to stand up. “My father hung himself. Don’t you think that was paying?”

  “That was him avoiding disgrace. That was his own decision. That was not justice. God damn it, Jessie, you, we, I, deserve some fucking justice.”

  She stared hard at him. “There is no justice. There will never be. Not from day one.”

  He stood up too. “I need it. I can make it.”

  “You’re talking about murder, Will Hendricks. I will not even have this conversation. You sound crazy. Usually, that’s reserved for me.”

  He caught her elbow. “I am crazy. It’s made me crazy for years. I want to go down there when I’m off active duty. I want to go down there and finish things, and then… we would be free. The rest of our life would be ours. Finally. Forever. I just need to do this one thing.”

  “That one thing could destroy everything! You don’t want to do that for me, you want to do it for you! So you can feel like the big, macho soldier who saves everyone. It’s for you!” she spat out.

  He nodded slowly and crossed his arms over his chest. “It is. It is for me. I don’t deny it. But it also could allow us to finally finish it. Move forward. I can do this, Jess. I can do this with my eyes shut. Let me. Let me do this and I promise you, I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy. Doing whatever you need from me. You’re right, this is for me. I can’t stand what I didn’t do for you. It haunts me. Sometimes, I think it’s going to break me. I can’t let it go. Just let me do this one thing for myself.”