by Xavier Neal
Martin's green eyes look down at the table and not back up. She nods at his response to her and walks out of the room closing the door behind her. Once she's freed from that interrogation room, Lordy lets me go. I step to her, pull her into my embrace, and hold her tightly to me. Her body feels surprisingly loose.
I pull back to stare in her eyes. “I'm sorry angel.”
“I'm not,” she answers back. Seeing me perplexed, she explains, “Doctor Snow and I have done multiple exercises in which she has pretended to be people from my past and asked me to address them accordingly. As odd as it might sound this was actually kind of relieving. Kind of like letting me cut the only ties left to...to what I went through.” Her hand touches my cheek and she offers me a soft smile, “I'm okay Clint. Really.” Not convinced that sitting in that room with that bastard didn't create new scars for her, I pull her into me again. Her soft voice whispers in my ear, “Alpha Slugger.”
The two terms have me relaxing in a matter of seconds.
“I need to speak with Director Shepard in his office. Glove you're on security duty. Watch him. He is not to leave that room. Even to pee. Lordy, if you could please escort Haven out of the facility. Grim, I need a word before you take your girlfriend home.”
Pulling out my keys I hand them to Haven. With a grim expression on my face I state at him, “Take care of her.”
“Of course,” he makes a hand gesture for Haven to walk down the hall we came in through.
I follow Jazz further down the hall to another interrogation room. Once we're both inside, she says in a low tone, “Anything said in this room, right now, between the two of us, is off record. No terms or regulations. Do you understand?” The moment after I nod she gripes, “Have you lost your fucking mind?”
Angered by her words as much as her tone I snap, “Have you?”
“You don't fucking undermine me in front of my men--”
“Our men!” I yell back. “Those are my brothers. That's my family you keep fucking with Jazz! As much as we are honored to be in this unit, to be here with you, to be doing this for our country, you are fucking with us! Fucking with me! You are ripping my life apart!”
“It is not my fault your life is falling apart. That's yours,” she says so coldly I almost wonder who the woman standing in front of me is. “You made your choices. You've chosen what to ignore. To acknowledge. You've chosen what to discuss and what to keep closed in. You chose who to trust and who to take for granted. All that shit is on you! Now stop blaming others for it every time your life falls to shit! And don't you dare do what you did in the hallway to me again or I'll have you removed from this unit.” Hearing the words out loud has my jaw clicking. “I know it's hard for you to comprehend what the fuck I am doing all the time, but I trust you every time you step out there with a rifle in your hand. I trust you every time you have to instruct the guys when you are in the heat of the moment in combat. I trust you that you're going to do your best for your country and this unit. Trust me that I'm going to do the same. That I'm not going to hurt you or anyone you care about--”
“You already have.” I counter. “The damage you've done to Haven--”
“Isn't what you're thinking. She told you herself that was therapeutic. Behavior analysis is what I do! You don't think I assessed her mental status before I sent her into that room? From the way she held her body, her communication, her demeanor, all spoke uncomfortable, but not incapable. Not vulnerable like you were afraid. She's a strong girl. Start to see it.”
Hearing the truth, my shoulders fall and so does my face. In a grouse I say, “I was out of line. I'm sorry.”
“That's fine,” she states. “Find the line and remember to keep your ass with it. Now, get the hell out of the building and wait for your call. We're on code black.”
“Yes ma'am,” I turn preparing to walk out.
“Oh and Grim,” she says softer.
“Yeah?”
“I know you. And you're gonna need a favor from me in about four days. And I'm gonna do it because I owe you that much. And because even though you think of me as the enemy right now, somewhere deep inside you know that I care about you just as much as you care about the rest of the team.”
On her cryptic warning I walk out of the room passing Glove who is parked on the opposite wall from the window we were watching Martin through. I don't know what favor she's talking about, but she is right. I need to get another grip on my entire life. Fix my fucking priorities. I don't need the walls that were once cemented in my mind, I need them to work together. I need to get past this. I need my fucking life to have the order it once did.
Official HORN Duty Day 17
For the last four days I have been making some much needed changes. The evening of the day I took Haven to confront Martin, I took her out to dinner just the two of us. While I apologized for having to do that to her, she explained very simply that Jazz was right. She was more terrified at the thought then the action itself. She knew she needed to take this step for herself. The entire time she talked I was zoned in on the amazing fact that she has changed. She's grown. She's developed into this person with strengths and weakness that she knows. She's not looking to be rescued and sheltered. She's looking to share her life with me. To do things together. When that realization hit, it hit hard. Which is fine. I needed that. Afterward we went home and she fell asleep with her head on my chest. Peaceful. Happy. How she managed to be that way after the hell I dragged her into was remarkable. I laid awake that night and let my brain do something it needed to do. Run itself into the ground. My mind tore through my past, my present. What I wanted for my future. It threw itself through the grinder again and again until I finally reached a point of clarity.
The next morning I was called in at 6 A.M. We went through the basic plan regarding Martin. Following the money to the higher up and then trailing the higher up to lead us to The Face. Sounded simple, but I knew that it wasn't or we would've caught him before now. Lordy was put on Martin babysitting duty, as pretend hired muscle, keeping our eyes on him at all times. When the meeting was over, I had a hard work out. A couple hours in the weapons room. Another with Merlin reviewing footage. I did everything I could to show Jazz I was sorry for my behavior. That I was the soldier she wanted. The soldier she needed. That I was a part of this team. I've repeated the same cycle every morning since. Retraining. Re-disciplining myself. I'm at work at 6 A.M. every morning to push myself and show my dedication. My commitment. I stay until I know Jazz is satisfied. Until I know she's done second guessing me for the day. It's only been four days, but I know what I see when she looks at me. Pride. It's a comfort. As far as Haven, she's gone by the time I get back from training, and typically isn't home before 4 in the afternoon. It's strange. But in a way I like it. I like that she has a job. Stability. I like that she can handle herself because she doesn't need me in that sense.
Flopping down onto the bed beside her causes her to let out a little giggle as she bounces in the bed. Haven gives me a short glance up from her book before draping her legs over my mine, turning on her side to rest her face on her hand while she reads. I move my head to get a better look at her. Her brown hair is in a bun on the top of her head. Her tags are dangling from her neck on top of one of her lacy yellow tank tops. Her hips are covered by short pajama shorts that I know when she wears them there's nothing underneath. My cock stiffens at the memory of that discovery a couple nights ago. Fuck. To make matters worse, she was ready to go, all the way ready for my touch and I refused. Even if my cock keeps threatening to fucking fall off if I don't get inside her soon, I won't take her again. Not until she's permanently mine. Not until she's wearing a ring on her finger and my last name in writing.
“It's hard to resist you when you're giving me those eyes,” she says turning the page in her book.
“What are those eyes?” I curiously ask.
“The 'You are my world' eyes',” she answers looking up.
“You are.”
“I know,” she whispers before leaning over and planting a soft kiss on my lips. After she says, “And you're mine. But you're not the only one taking a cold shower in hopes it helps.” Hearing her confession has my dick tenting in my gym shorts again. “So stop giving me those eyes knowing we can't do anything about it.”
I smirk playfully and roll over onto my back to stare at the ceiling. Automatically she moves in closer placing her head on my chest, the book now resting on my abs while she reads.
“Do you think we should move?”
Haven answers, attention still on the pages, “Why?”
“Should we have our own apartment? Our own house? A place for just the two of us?” the question is one that's lingered on my mind for the past 24 hours.
Her chin pops up on my chest and I look down as she responds. “Is that what you want?”
“What do you want?”
“You.” She shrugs. “Wherever that is Clint. But if you're asking me do I think we need to move out to be together the answer is no. This is our home Clint, as much as it is Whiskey's. I love it here. I love being able to walk across the street to work. I love that I convinced Lexi to start a book club out of her house that I get to attend. I love that Felix is helping me fix an old bookshelf I bought. I know a lot of couples feel they need the 'just the two us' thing babe, but I don't. Honestly, I think I need this more than I'll ever need that.”
Her answer has my hand stroking her back. A smirk on my face. I love her. And she's right. She needs this neighborhood. Hell I need it. The strength. The encouragement. The trust. I like knowing Haven's safe even when I'm away on duty. And knowing her past has no problem catching up to her makes me feel we're safest here, not trying to start over.
Haven's head lays back down on my chest. My fingers lightly continue up and down her skin. My eyes following the movement. Suddenly a feeling gut punches me. I know it's time.
“Marry me.”
She turns the page in her novel, places it down on my abs, and moves her head so she's looking at me again. When her brown eyes meet mine, I'm thankful they aren't full of panic. Or fear. They aren't coated in doubt or question. This is the look I wanted to see on her face when I gave her that apron.
Sweetly she tilts her head to the side, “You know what I love about you?”
“Hm?”
“You didn't ask.” The truth of what she says starts to settle in. Fuck. How did I mess that up? What the fuck is wrong with me? In a slight panic that I can't believe I didn't even ask, I start to try to sit up to apologize, when her hand lands on my chest. “No Clint. It's okay that you didn't ask. It means you already know the answer.” Slightly confused I raise my eyebrows in question. “It means, whatever doubt you thought I had about us is gone. It means you believe me about what I said about the tattoo I have. It means you're finally in a place where you know I love you as much as you love me. You didn't ask because it's not a question. It's a fact. I will marry you. The question is when.”
Without thought I lift her up to plant my lips roughly on hers. She squeaks in slight surprise, but doesn't resist, the book falling to the floor. Our lips part and my tongue captures hers. Slaves it. Begs it to repeat everything she just said without the words. My fingers tangle themselves in her hair keeping her tight to me as her body straddles my hips, the warm wet home I'm desperate to plant myself in, hovering right above my dick, that feels like it's screaming.
Breathlessly she pulls away, so her lips are right above mine, “Are we...still waiting?”
My cock nudges the heat and her hips grind into it in response. I groan loudly and hit my head hard back against the pillow. Fucking. Torture. I let my hands travel down her back and over her ass that flexes at the touch. My dick knocks against her again, the wetness seeping through her shorts.
Her lips push against mine and my tongue wastes no time rolling lazily around hers, lapping up every single taste it can get. After a couple rolls I slightly pull away and ask, “Do you want a big wedding? A small one?”
“I just want one with you there,” her tongue licks my top lip as she slowly glides up and down my hard on, the motion satisfying my straining cock.
Knowing that if she keeps up the motion I'll fucking come in my shorts I grip her ass tightly, which makes her moan. Mother. Fucker. “Details like that don't matter to you?” She shakes her head before letting her eyes close as her body grinds against mine once more. Fuck that feels good. Too good. I open my mouth to beg her to stop when she drops her tongue back against mine. A deep groan crawls out of me as she whimpers in return. My hands pull her ass towards me again and again to keep her riding me while our kiss deepens. It's excruciatingly hot. Desperate. All consuming. Her body is trembling underneath my touch and it's a familiar one. One I am ready to spend the rest of my life making her have. With another tight pull of her ass so her pussy slides down my dick, Haven comes apart, right on top of me, yanking her lips away from mine as she tosses her head back to cry out, “Clint!” Effortlessly, the noise, the look, and the feel of her coming, snatch the orgasm I was desperately trying to hold back. Coming right along with her I struggle to catch my breath. My hands let go of her ass and wrap themselves around her as we lay together in the aftermath of our sexual frustration. Clothes still on.
In a soft whisper she declares, “I love you Clint.”
Hearing her say the words has me shutting my eyes as I enter that state of tranquility only she can bring me too. “I love you too Haven.”
And I'll be damned if I let any more time go to waste.
Official HORN Duty Day 18
I push the last button together on my white shirt before draping the tie around my neck, staring at my reflection in the mirror. For the first time in what feels like ages, I know exactly what I'm doing is the right thing. That I'm proud of my choice. That mom would be proud of my choice.
“Oh Slugger, if you're gonna tie the damn thing you're going to have to be more careful,” Mindy freaks out at me from the doorway.
Slowly I turn my head to look at her. She's wearing a soft yellow floor length dress. Her make up as perfect as her blonde hair that's pinned up high on the top of her head. Her diamond earrings are dangling from her ears, being touched by the sunlight that's leaking in through the window. She's glowing. She's also struggling not to cry.
“You wanna tie it?” I hold it out for her.
“It's probably best for everyone,” she insists and approaches me. Carefully she wraps it around my neck as I admire the room I first hid from my father in. The room that quickly became my home away from home. The room that someday my kids will sleep in when they visit. I smirk at the thought. Displeased she huffs, “Why are you smiling? You're a grown man who can't tie his own tie.”
I look down at her. She has a tear on the corner of her eyes. I use my index finger to wipe it away. “You wanna talk about why you're so upset on my wedding day.”
“I am not upset.” She argues. “Well. I am. But that's because you keep making my make-up run.” Her hands continue to work at my tie as she asks, “Are you sure you wanna do this?”
Puzzled by her asking me that I grab her hands, which forces her eyes up to mine. In a strong warning tone I say, “Mindy.”
“Slugger I don't want you getting married because you think you have to. Or because you can't think of another way to keep Haven from thinking about other men. Or because you feel pressured too,” the words fly out of her mouth in such a rush I don't have time to brace myself. “I only want you to get married if that's what you want to do. And you two were just barely talking a week ago and now you're getting married! It's crazy! It's insane! It's--”
“Us.” I pat her hand softly.
She fights the smile that's trying to come. “I know. And I hate it. You two are so...” the end of the sentence gets lost as another tear pops up. “I just want what's best for both of you. Whatever that may be.”
“It's each other,” I reassure her with a gentle squeeze. “Mindy you've always don
e a helluva a great job taking care of me. Of my dad. Of Haven. And just because we get married doesn't mean you're out of someone to take care of. It simply means you have to change the lessons you're teaching.”
She nods at me and I let her hands go. In a soft voice she says, “Your mother would be proud of the man you've become.” The words stick in my throat preventing me from saying anything else. “I'm proud of the man you've become Slugger.”
I don't respond. I just stare on until she's finished. The moment she is, she looks up and touches my cheek softly. “You're a good son. You're a good Marine. You're gonna be a good husband.” If she would've said those words to me just a few days ago she would've been wrong. No, changes don't happen overnight. No, you don't magically go to bed as one person and wake up as another. But you can discover it that way.
There's a sharp knock on the open bedroom door. The two of us divert our attention to my father who slides his non sling hand into his dress pants pocket. “Can I have a word?”
“Of course,” Mindy sniffles. “It's probably best. If I keep talking to him he's gonna keep messing up my damn make-up.” She gives me a tiny wink and slips past my father who enters the room.
Neither of us say a word. We haven't since his confession. Since I took the final shot from the past I could take. In fact we've barely made eye contact since then. Thankfully no one has pushed us to speak or to deal with one another.
With a hard swallow I slide my hands into my own pockets waiting to hear what it is he wants to say.
“Slugger,” he clears his throat sharply. “I know you hate me--”
“I don't.” I correct him.
The correction seems to settle his gray eyes from the swarming mess they were. Taken off guard he tries to push forward again, “About your mother--”