by Stacy Eaton
“Aw, that’s sweet. I’m sorry about his mom; even if you weren’t in a relationship with her, that had to be hard.”
“It was, but I’m lucky to have both Davina and Devon in my life. It’s why I stopped traveling overseas.”
I studied the back of Greg’s head. “Do you travel overseas?”
He peered over his shoulder. “Yes.”
“But you don’t go to dangerous places anymore, do you? I mean, you’re not in the military anymore, so you are safe, right?”
Greg shifted to see me better. “No, I go to dangerous places, too. We train civilians to go into hostile areas, give them critical thinking skills and a little tactical and medical training, and then we help them get from place A to place B for their job.”
So, he wasn’t in the military anymore, but he was still doing military type stuff. I wasn’t sure what I thought about that. The truth of the matter was, I didn’t have the right to have any opinion on it as it was his life and not mine. It wasn’t like we were a couple. We’d only run into each other again a few hours ago after nineteen years.
Not to say that I wouldn’t mind getting to know him better. Although, when he had walked away from me all those years ago, he had said it was because his career was too important to him. Had that changed? Or was his career still as critical to him as it was before? Why the hell was I even wondering this?
“Are you married?” I blurted the question before I could even try to stop myself.
Trevor laughed loudly, and Greg grinned. “No, you?”
“No. Have you ever been married?” I rephrased the question.
“No, you?”
I squirmed for a moment and looked out the passenger side window briefly. “Yes, for a couple of years.”
“Do you have kids?” he queried.
“No, you?”
“Nope, none that I know about.”
Trevor laughed again. “Who knows, some woman might show up at the office and hand him a child.”
I frowned, and Greg turned back around to face forward. “That’s how Trevor learned of his son. Davina showed up at work and dropped the baby off.”
“Whoops,” I said as I winced. “You really had no idea?”
“None. Carol and I had a nice weekend together, and then I left for another overseas job. When I came home, I found out I was a father.”
“Well, okay then,” I said from the back seat. “I’m glad it worked out for you.”
Trevor glanced in the mirror. “Thanks.” He tossed a look toward Greg and grinned. “Maybe it will work out for you two.”
Was that a two, as in Greg and me, or a too as in just me?
Greg gave him a funny look, and I chortled from the back. “If you mean Greg and me, there is not a chance in hell of that happening.”
Greg’s forehead lined as he turned my way. “Why do you say that? Wouldn’t you like to get to know me again?”
“Sorry, Charlie, but you already broke my heart once. It might have been nineteen years ago, but I can remember it as if it were yesterday.”
“Wait! I want to hear this story,” Trevor urged from the front seat.
“No, you don’t,” Greg stated firmly.
“You want to hear how he broke my tender teenage heart, Trevor?”
“Yes!” Trevor said with a grin as Greg gave an emphatic no.
“I’ll tell you since you are nice enough to give me a ride to the police station. Greg and I started dating when I was a freshman in high school. He was a total jock, one of the most popular guys in school, because he was not only good at sports but a nice guy and took his classes seriously. Then he graduated and became this hotshot young Marine, and when he heard he was going overseas, Greg decided that he didn’t want me to wait for him. Said he wasn’t sure he would ever come back and didn’t think it was fair of me to wait. Wasn’t that sweet of him?” I said sarcastically. “And just after that, he told me that I should find someone else and move on with my life. He kissed my forehead, handed me back a box of my stuff, and walked away.”
“You bastard!” Trevor tossed toward Greg, who shook his head and stared out the windshield.
“He had the nerve to tell me that he would always love me, but he just couldn’t be the man I wanted or needed him to be.”
Trevor cackled behind the steering wheel and then smirked at Greg. “So, do you still love her?”
“What?” Greg’s head snapped toward Trevor, and then he peered back at me momentarily. I cocked a brow, suddenly wondering that myself.
Trevor responded, “You told her you would always love her, do you? Or did you lie to her?”
“You’re a dick,” He muttered to him.
“No, wait.” I put my hand on Greg’s shoulder. “That’s a good question, Gregory Blaire. Did you lie to me all those years ago?”
He shifted so he could turn his head all the way around to see me. “I cared a lot about you, Maggie, but that was nineteen years ago. I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, so I can’t tell you that I love you.”
I pursed my lips. “So, basically, you lied.”
He sputtered, “Those were stupid words from a stupid kid.”
“Who ran away and joined the stupid military.”
“Whoa, don’t go bashing the military,” he stated huskily.
“Sorry, that wasn’t what I meant. I have a lot of respect for our men and women who serve. I just meant that you ran away.”
“I was not running, Maggie. I was following my heart.”
“I thought I was your heart.”
He sighed, and Trevor snickered and said softly, “I don’t think you’re going to win this one. I’m on Maggie’s side. You broke her heart, and you lied to her.”
“Shut up,” Greg growled toward him.
“I got your back, Maggie. You stick with me, and I’ll help you get even.”
I laughed as we pulled into the parking lot of the police station, and then sighed. “Do I really have to tell them what he looked like?”
“Yes,” Greg said as he took off his seat belt and spoke over his shoulder toward me. “The more detail you can give them, the better it is for the case.”
“I still don’t see why they need this when Chuck will probably tell them who Len is.”
Greg exited the vehicle and then opened my door for me and gave me his hand to climb down from the seat. The minute I was out, he let go of me and stepped away. I guess he really didn’t have any feelings for me after all these years. That kind of sucked, because after only a few hours of being in his presence, I was totally crushing on him again.
Oh, Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, you need to just let this go and be happy that you got to see him again after so many years. If you thought he hurt you as a teenager, he could probably destroy you as an adult.
Chapter Seven
Gregory
That whole conversation in the car irritated me. Maybe I didn’t love Maggie, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t have fond memories of our time together. But come on, it was almost twenty years ago. I’d been in half a dozen relationships since then. I’d seen a hundred different war zones, seen a lot of death, screwed a lot of women, and kept moving forward. It was always better to move forward and not look back.
At first, when I’d gone overseas, I’d thought a lot about her. I’d carried her photo in my pocket with me for the first few months, and then I’d stuck it in one of my notebooks that I always took with me. Over the years, that damn photo had moved from one notebook to the next. Damn, if it wasn’t in the one that was now burning a hole in my pocket.
Why had I kept her photo all these years? Maybe it had just become a habit, or I’d come to think of it as a good luck charm. Or perhaps it had become a symbol of what I gave up to fight for our country’s freedom. I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t know that I wanted to dwell that much on it now.
When we reached the door, I took hold of her arm, pulling her to a stop. “Hey, Trevor, go on in; I want to have a word with Maggie.�
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“Alright,” he said as he stepped around us with a knowing smirk. Not sure what he thought he knew.
I let go of Maggie’s arm as she studied me. “I’m sorry about what I said in the truck.”
Her once curious look turned into one of annoyance with one blink. “Forget about it, Greg. Yes, you hurt me a long time ago, but that was a long time ago. I’m a big girl now, and I know those were silly adolescent words. Trust me, I’m fine, okay?”
“You’re sure? You’re not upset with me?”
“Hardly,” she retorted and stepped away. She said she understood, and maybe Maggie did, but I still had the feeling that she wasn’t happy with me.
I followed her into the police station, and we were led back to a conference room to have a seat. Wanted posters and updates to general orders were posted all over one of the walls, announcements on another wall, statistics on the opposite side. They must do roll calls in here, I thought to myself and noted that Trevor was also skimming over the walls and stopped at the wanted poster.
A few minutes later, a detective came in and took Maggie away to interview her. Trevor was handed a statement form to fill out since his involvement was limited to the cellphone, and I was escorted to another room to give my interview.
Giving a statement was very similar to a debrief after a critical mission. You told them the facts: the good, the bad, and the ugly. No emotion, no opinion, no unnecessary details. I was done in less than twenty minutes and found Trevor kicked back in the same chair, a cup of coffee to his lips. At least he’d gotten some. I still needed to get my own fix. There were several other victims now seated in the room with him, along with a couple of people I didn’t know.
“You done?” he asked when I approached him.
“Yeah, Maggie come back yet?”
He laughed. “No, and I don’t think she’ll be done for a while. Alex is bringing your truck over so you can get Maggie home when she is finished. I need to get back to the office; I forgot how long it was going to take for her to do a sketch and give a statement.”
“Ah, that’s true.” I winced. Maybe I should leave her a message to call me after it was done, and I could come back. Who knew how long it was going to take her to get this done.
“Hey.” He slapped me on the back. “Stay here; don’t worry about work. I’ll fill you in on anything you need to know later. Make sure Maggie gets home safely and that she’s okay.”
“All right, I appreciate it.”
He started to walk away and stopped, coming back and leaning toward me to speak softly. “And find a way to make it up to her. I think you owe it to her after walking away from her all those years ago.”
“Give me a break,” I muttered as I shook my head.
He grabbed my shoulder. “Blaire, she seems like a great woman, and I see interest in your eyes, and in hers. Take a few moments to check it out.”
“The last thing I need right now is a needy woman in my life, Vaughn.”
He leaned back and laughed. “Needy? That woman is anything but needy. She’s hysterical and could probably keep you on your toes. I get it; neither of us ever wanted to be in a serious relationship, but look at me now. I’m a dad and soon to be a husband, and I couldn’t be happier.”
“That’s great for you Trev, it really is, but I have never been interested in settling down, not then—not now.”
“Okay, but you don’t know what you’re missing,” he said as he started to walk backward. “Give me a shout after you get Maggie home, and I’ll fill you in on the day.”
I mock saluted him, and he did an about-face and was gone. I searched around the room and poked my head out into the hall. A cop was standing farther down the hallway, and I approached him. “Is there someplace I can get a cup of coffee?”
He laughed. “You still want some after that debacle?”
“More than ever,” I replied. He pointed me in the direction, and I found a new pot just about finished brewing. I leaned back against the wall, skimming my eyes over the bulletin board above the water cooler as I waited. More rules and regulations covered the cork surface, but these focused on cleaning up after yourself. You would think that these adults wouldn’t need those continual reminders. I guess I was lucky for the training I’d received twenty years ago. My drill sergeant had nailed into me that I was responsible for myself, and no one was going to clean up after me. I could not tell you how often I had heard him screaming in my ear, “What did you do this morning, boot, get up and inject yourself with some stupidity?” I learned in quick action that if I didn’t do it for myself, I would just make everyone else look bad, especially myself. I had taken that to heart.
The coffee machine finally stopped dripping, and I sighed as I reached for it. I poured the dark brew into the waiting Styrofoam cup that I had ready with a little powdered creamer in it. I stirred it with the wooden coffee stirrer and then lifted it to my nose, inhaling the scent and sighing internally—finally.
I knew better than to take a drink yet and risk scalding my tongue, mouth, or throat. I finally had my fix in my hand; I could give it another moment or two before I enjoyed it. I heard Maggie’s voice around the corner and peeked out of the little kitchenette area to see her walking toward me. No sooner did she reach me before she snatched the coffee cup from my hand.
“God bless you, soldier. I was dying for this!” She winked and disappeared around another corner with the detective she’d been trailing.
“Well, shit,” I muttered and spun around to make myself another cup. I was tempted to hide in the bathroom so I could drink this cup in peace, and if one more person approached me, I might have. Luckily, I managed to get that first sip in, and I wanted to scream in joy. I meandered slowly back to the conference room, checking things out as I went.
I paused when I saw Maggie on the other side of the room, bent over a desk, looking at something. Her slacks tight over her buttocks, and something kicked below my belt. Damn—
I tore my eyes from the sight, cleared my throat, and then noticed another cop staring at her from his desk. I should have gone back to the conference room, should have minded my own business, but I didn’t. I strolled right over to Maggie like I owned the fucking place—or in the least—worked there. Instead of just stopping beside her, I placed my hand on her lower back as I nailed the cop with a look that I was pretty sure was a dare.
I wasn’t sure what I was daring him to do, but in my gut, I felt like I had the right to protect her, and that was what I was doing. Now, what I needed to figure out is if someone else should be protecting her from me.
Her back tensed, and her head snapped to the side. When she saw me, she gave me a tight-lipped smile and turned her attention back to the computer in front of her.
I locked on to the computer image they were staring at as she spoke. “His nose needs to be a little wider in the bridge, and his eyebrows were a bit more chaotic.”
“Chaotic?” I laughed.
“Yeah.” She stood to face me. “They were kind of like all over the place.” She wiggled her fingers over her eyes. “Not neatly groomed, and his pores were a little larger than normal, even for a man.”
“You noticed his pores? How long did you stare at the guy?”
She shrugged. “About two, maybe three seconds.”
“And you noticed how large his pores were?” I asked her doubtfully.
She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned forward into my face. “You might have forgotten this, Gregory Blaire, but I have a photographic memory. I am incredible at remembering details, especially from years ago. Little details—” she held her hand up, pinching her fingers together—“like how you are not a magnum.”
I glared at her. “We already told you that was a joke.”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded and turned back to the computer. “Yeah, that’s more like it. But the bag under his right eye was a little more pronounced.”
As the detective adjusted the image, I realized that she was right. I h
adn’t seen the guy’s face, because of his mask, but I had seen his eyes, and his right one did have a larger puffy area below it.
She was also right about her photographic memory and me forgetting about it. I hadn’t thought of that in a long time, and now that I remembered it, I winced internally. She probably remembered a whole lot more than I did about our time together. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to remember; I had just replaced many of those memories with other things—some not so great either.
I remained quiet as she worked with the detective on the sketch to get it just right. While they worked, I studied her every move. She was a confident, in-charge woman, who was so damn gorgeous that I couldn’t understand why she was single.
She had mentioned that she’d been married before, for a few years, I think she said. What kind of a douchebag would have let a woman like her go? I winced as that question rattled around in my mind. I was that kind of douchebag. I’d walked away from this one, and if I were going to admit it, it was because I was very selfish—or had been. Was I still selfish? Maybe.
Was it time to change that? Was Trevor right? Was it time to settle down and enjoy life, stop living for the thrill? I wasn’t so sure, but I did know that right this moment, if someone ordered me not to see Maggie again, I would have bristled at that—maybe even have wanted to defy the order.
That brought me up short. I’d never in my life defied an order purposely; what was it about her that made me consider it now?
Chapter Eight
Maggie
The statement process was less painful than I had anticipated. Luckily, details were easy for me, and the fact that I’d kept my mouth shut—for the most part—during the incident had allowed me to retain more descriptive facts. Sometimes my ability to recall details so entirely was a pain in the ass. There were many things that I sure wished I couldn’t remember or hadn’t seen so up close and personal.