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Consolation (Consolation Duet #1)

Page 5

by Corinne Michaels


  “Not much. Wanted to check on Natalie and see if she needs anything.”

  Natalie told me about how he took Aaron’s death hard. He felt like he was responsible. He got himself shot when he went over to investigate and bring Aaron’s remains home. Not that there were many remains left. “She’s putting on a good show. She’s stubborn as all hell but finally taking care of some things.”

  He sighs and I wonder what he was expecting. It’s only been about seven months since he died. No one would be ready for much more than she is.

  “She starts working for me this week. I wanted to make sure everything is okay.”

  I forgot about that. Shit. “Yeah, I’m sure she’ll be good. My leave is over this week and who knows what the deployment schedule is like.”

  “Ahhh, I heard. Four, huh?”

  “Yeah, man.” I lean against the tree since this is going to be another few minutes. “How’s Cali?”

  He laughs and pauses, “I’m adjusting.”

  “She worth it?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Thank God,” I say. This is no life for a woman. The home-again-then-gone-again life. How the hell any of these guys are dumb enough to marry someone I’ll never know. It’s unfair and I don’t need anyone clouding my judgment when I’m on a mission.

  Jackson laughs as if he knows something I don’t. “One day. One day everything you thought, you’ll forget—for her.”

  My mind flashes to Natalie and Aarabelle. The grin comes without any thought. Fuck. I’m not supposed to feel anything for her. Goddammit. This isn’t allowed.

  “Or not.”

  I push it down because I’m sure it’s not anything.

  “One day,” Jackson repeats.

  It’s because I’m spending so much time there. Helping her hang pictures, mowing the lawn, and taking care of the things that need to be done. Yeah. That’s it. Nothing more. I’ll lock that shit down before it becomes anything else because she’s my friend. She’s my best friend’s wife.

  “One day. I gotta run. Literally,” I say to Jackson and stretch so I can get back to running. I need to get this crap out of my head.

  “Take care. I’ll be back east soon and maybe we can grab a beer.”

  “Sounds good, Muff.” I disconnect the call and blare some Jay Z hoping I can get lost in the bass.

  Trying to focus on the trees passing by and how bad my muscles are going to hate me later, I end up thinking about the letter sitting in my car. Why the fuck did he write to all of us? My letter sits in my rifle case and it goes to my mom, not any of the guys. I start to think of Natalie and how she’s doing. Did she read the letter? Did he tell her something that is going to cause her pain or will it put her at ease? I turn and head back on the trail, running faster than I did before.

  Once I reach my car, I throw my phone on the dash. I can’t go back there. I’m not her boyfriend and I never will be. I need to get laid. I grab my phone and call my buddy who’s stationed here.

  Quinn answers on the first ring. “What up, dirtbag?”

  “Hey, fuckstick. I need to go out tonight. You game?”

  “Hot Tuna? Lots of willing pussy.”

  Sounds perfect. I need to get balls deep in some girl and get the other one out of my head. “Meet you there around ten.”

  I disconnect the phone and lean back in my seat. My legs are screaming after the run I just did. Every time I would start to zone out, I’d start thinking about Lee and Aarabelle, wondering what they are doing. You can’t not love that kid. She looks like Aaron, only cuter. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? And where in the last few weeks did this shift at all? She’s Lee for Chrissake. She’s the messy hair, sweat pants, and no bra girl I’ve known for eight years. I’ve seen her practically naked and even though any man would have to be blind not to look twice at her, I’ve never had anything more than friendship towards her. So what the hell is different?

  Enough thinking.

  Time to get wasted and laid.

  “Hey, fucker! Wasn’t sure you were going to show.” Quinn sits back with a beer in his hand.

  “Passed out after my run,” I state.

  Quinn and I have been friends for a few years. We both went to the same training site in Nevada and kept in touch. When I found out I was heading to SEAL Team Four, I was glad I at least knew a few guys.

  “Been a while since you worked out, huh?”

  “I’ve been busy,” I say and signal for a beer to the bartender.

  He looks at me and smirks. “Busy . . . right.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  Quinn nods and looks at the game on TV as I look around the bar. He’s right. This place is crawling with women looking for some attention. They’re not even subtle. Fine by me.

  “So, what’s been going on? I haven’t heard from you.”

  “I’ve been helping Natalie get stuff done. Since Aaron wasn’t active, the Navy is no help.”

  “Yeah, I heard about that. Aaron was a good guy. Sucks about how he died.” Quinn taps my beer and we both take a gulp.

  “It’s fucking weird. The whole thing.”

  “What do you mean? The IED in Afghanistan?” He looks at me as if I sprouted another head. “Tell me where the weird part is.”

  My training tells me there’s more to that explosion. “Why the fuck was he there? Why was his caravan hit? I know these assholes don’t give a shit, but Jackson’s company isn’t stupid. They know that region. Then the fact that Cole was shot when he went to the site doesn’t add up. Why and who is targeting Cole’s company?”

  The thing about Quinn is he’s an easy read. Which is why he’s a sniper on our team and not intelligence. “Don’t start trying to look for shit that’s not there. He was killed by an IED and you said it yourself—they don’t care. So they killed him because they could. Plain and simple. As to why Jackson was shot, again they’re American—enough said.”

  “Sure,” I reply to placate him. I don’t think it’s plain and simple, but Quinn is too stupid or self-absorbed to give a shit. He’s simple and follows orders, never thinking about it again. I, on the hand, don’t do either well.

  “Hi there,” I hear from behind me. Quinn’s eyes widen as he takes in the company we have.

  I shift and see the two women. One has black hair cut right above her clearly fake tits. The other has blonde hair pulled to one side. She’s fucking hot.

  “Hi, ladies.”

  “Is that seat taken?” the blonde asks, biting her lip. I’m fucked . . . and hopefully she will be soon too.

  “What’s your poison?”

  She smiles and sits on the stool next to me and crouches down, showing me her rack. Her fingertip traces the wood right by my arm and my cock stirs. “What’s your name?”

  “Liam,” I reply and lean closer.

  “Well, Liam . . . I’m Brit. How about you buy me a shot of whiskey and we’ll find out what else is my poison?”

  On a normal day, this type of shit would piss me off, but today, Brit seems to be just what I need.

  The hours pass and we drink and spend the evening with Brit and her friend, Claire. They’re both practically begging to go home with us. I’ll never understand what these bitches think. Why would any man want to take you home to Mom if I was able to fuck you the first night we met? That’s not the kind of girl I want to have a life with. That’s the girl I’m going to fuck and forget.

  “I’m probably too drunk to drive,” Brit whispers in my ear.

  “Want me to give you a ride?” I ask, and her lip is back between her teeth.

  She nods and her tongue darts out and licks the red marks. I’m going to lose my shit.

  “Let’s go then,” I sweep my arm forward and Brit stumbles into my arms.

  “Yes. Let’s.”

  “Shhh, it’s okay, Aarabelle.” I’m starting to get nervous. It’s been almost two hours straight of her screaming. Tears fall and nothing is soothing her. It’s almost two o’cloc
k in the morning and I don’t know what’s wrong. I gave her medicine when she felt warm before, but she’s still not calming.

  She wails over and over and I can’t get her to take a break. She still feels hot to me, so I grab the thermometer, and my heart races when I see her temperature.

  Throwing things in the diaper bag, I need to get her to the hospital. She’s running a 105.2-degree fever. I grab my phone and toss it in the bag. When I turn to get her, I see her eyes roll back and she begins twitching on the floor.

  “Oh my God!” I scream and run over to her.

  Her body convulses and I turn her to her side. Aarabelle’s limbs flail and panic grips me. I hold her as she shakes and tears stream down my face. It only lasts a minute, but my heart is in my throat.

  “Aarabelle!” I burst out as she starts to cry again and I rummage through my bag for my phone. I dial 9–1-1. I lift her in my arms and hold her tight.

  The dispatcher’s calm voice comes through, “9–1-1, state your emergency.”

  “My daughter. She’s had a seizure I think. I don’t know. Her fever . . . it’s high . . . and I don’t know what to do!” I blurt trying to gather my wits. I’m frazzled and frayed. Aarabelle cries loudly as I rock her back and forth in my arms.

  “Is she conscious, ma’am?”

  “Yes, she’s crying and has a high fever. I put her down to get ready to go to the hospital and then she began shaking,” I cry and every part of me feels weak. My heart is racing as I watch her, hoping it doesn’t happen again.

  “Okay, what’s your address? I’m sending an ambulance.”

  I give the dispatcher the information and she stays on the line as we wait for help to arrive. In minutes, the EMTs arrive and they instruct me to grab her car seat as they take her vitals. I throw my phone back in my bag, grab my stuff, and climb in the ambulance.

  “Okay, Aara. Mommy’s got you,” I say soothingly as I buckle her in her seat. “We’ll be at the hospital in a few minutes.”

  She cries and I fight the tears threatening to come again. I’ve never been this scared in my life. Watching her shake uncontrollably was terrifying. I couldn’t survive if something happened to my baby.

  The lights and sirens blaze as we rush to the emergency room at the children’s hospital.

  “Her fever is still high, but we should be at Children’s Hospital of Kings’ Daughters in a few minutes, ma’am,” the young EMT says.

  I’m not sure if I even acknowledge him because I’m so focused on Aarabelle. She’s finally stopped crying, but I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or not.

  Once the ambulance stops, they rush us into a room where the nurses are waiting.

  “Hi, Mrs. Gilcher. I’m Dr. Hewat,” she walks in quickly and heads over to Aara. “What’s going on with Aarabelle?”

  I explain what she’s been like during the night and how she’s been extremely fussy. She examines her and explains the course they’re going to take to get her fever down immediately. They need to get an IV started and then they’re going to run some tests.

  The nurse comes in and gets the IV hooked up. She makes sure Aarabelle’s monitors and fluids are working and lets me know how to call for help. Once Aara settles a little, the nurse takes her temperature and vitals again. She’s finally fallen asleep from exhaustion and I have a second to think.

  “Any changes?” I ask hesitantly.

  “Not yet, but the medicine can take a bit,” she says and heads out of the room with a sympathetic smile.

  I grab my phone to send a text to Reanell, letting her know where we are and to call me when she wakes. No point in worrying her.

  “Sir,” I hear outside the curtain before it flies open.

  “There you are!” Liam exclaims and looks panicked.

  “Liam?” I stand and he looks at Aarabelle.

  “I heard you talking about the hospital. Why didn’t you call me?”

  I look at him, his face is ashen and his eyes are wide.

  The nurse pushes him back, “Ma’am, do you want me to call security?”

  “No, he’s fine.” I step forward and Liam looks at Aara again. “What are you doing here?”

  “I heard my phone ring and I saw you calling. You never call me, so I figured something was wrong. I heard you talking about a hospital, but you wouldn’t answer me. I had to drop someone off and then I came running. I didn’t know if she was okay.” Liam barely gets the words out and my heart falters. He looks so concerned.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I called you.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you?”

  My jaw falls and I see how hurt he is. “Why would I? I can take care of myself and my daughter.”

  He closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath, “I never said you couldn’t, but why the hell should you do this alone? I’m your friend, aren’t I? I told you I want to be here for you. I thought . . .” He trails off.

  “Thought what?”

  I see it in his eyes. He’s holding something back.

  “I thought you would’ve called.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you.” I don’t know what else to say. I honestly never thought of calling him. Liam’s been so much help, but I don’t want to rely on him.

  “What’s wrong with her?” he questions.

  I look at Aarabelle sleeping and I brush her hair back. “I don’t know. She started running a high fever and then she had convulsions. I called emergency services and they rushed us here. They’re running some blood tests and they’re waiting to see what comes back.”

  Liam comes around the side of her bed and puts his hand on mine as I begin to cry silently. I pray it’s nothing serious. I can’t handle anything more. Between Aaron’s letter the other day and now Aarabelle, I’m going to lose my mind.

  Dr. Hewat enters and looks over the papers. “Hi, Mr. Gilcher, I presume?”

  My eyes shift to Liam.

  “No, just a friend,” he says with an easy grin.

  “Sorry, my mistake.”

  “Is she okay?” I ask, needing answers.

  She looks to me and then her eyes move to Aarabelle. “Right now I’m ruling out a few things but I need to run an additional scan. With her fever still not coming back to normal, I need to be sure. Her counts are elevated indicating an infection. They’ll be here in a few minutes to take her for the test.”

  “What are you testing for?”

  “Let’s rule out a few things and then we’ll know the best course of action,” Dr. Hewat replies and walks out.

  Liam is by my side in a heartbeat. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Right. Like Aaron would be right back.”

  “Lee,” he chides and then stops.

  I wish I had the confidence he does. It must be nice to be the one who doesn’t have to sit around and worry. They go and do. They fight and live off the high while the families sit around and wonder. We don’t know if they’re okay. We just suffer through it. Now, I sit here months after my last tragedy and wonder if my daughter is going to be okay.

  He sits beside me and I lean on his shoulder. I’m exhausted both physically and emotionally. What the fuck else is life going to throw at me? Once again, I have to be strong though.

  Aarabelle rests and I close my eyes. Liam’s strong arm wraps around me and I take the comfort he offers. I inhale his sandalwood and musk scent, and it calms me. I love the smell of a man. I miss the smell of a man. Especially this kind of man—one that exudes strength, confidence, and dominance. They command the space around them.

  I focus on how secure I feel in this moment. The way I used to feel when Aaron would hold me. I think of the letter he wrote urging me to love again. Could I give another man a chance to hold me like this? Right now . . . I don’t know. But being in Liam’s embrace makes me want to be open to the idea.

  Something shakes me gently and I open my eyes. The hospital smell hits me first and I realize I must’ve drifted off to sleep. Rubbing my eyes, I sit up and Liam stretch
es. His shirt lifts and I see the ripples of his abdomen. Look away, Natalie.

  “Mrs. Gilcher?”

  I nod and head over toward the nurse. “Yes.”

  “We’re going to take Aarabelle for her scan. She’ll be about forty minutes. You can wait here or you can come up and wait outside. It’s totally up to you.”

  “I’ll come with,” I say matter-of-factly. There’s no way in hell you’re keeping me away from her.

  Liam places his hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to run and get some coffee. Need anything?”

  My heart swells at his concern. “No, I’m good. Thank you for being here.”

  “I’ll always be here for you, Lee.”

  “I know. You promised him.”

  His thumb grips my chin and he forces me to look at him. Blue eyes shimmer with some unnamed emotion. I want to look away, break the connection, because I feel it. I feel something and I don’t want to. I’m not ready. It’s way too soon, but it’s there, starting to make its way through me, and I’m terrified he’ll see it. The need to close my eyes becomes intense, but I can’t, or maybe I really don’t want to. Maybe I want him to see it, but God, if I’m not scared. “Go with Aarabelle,” he says as his hand drops.

  My cheeks paint red and I close my eyes finally. Shit. I was wrong. Maybe he doesn’t feel anything for me.

  “Ma’am?” The nurse calls to me as she unlocks the wheels on Aarabelle’s crib.

  “Ready,” I say, knowing I feel anything but. This is all too much and my feelings couldn’t have come at a worse time. I need to focus on my baby and then I can worry about myself and my stupid feelings.

  Waiting is agony. Waiting sucks. Waiting is all we seem to be doing.

  “You should head home,” I grumble as I snuggle into Liam’s chest. I want him to want to leave. Which is stupid because he’s my pillow right now, but if he wants to go, this nagging, festering feeling inside might leave me alone.

  Liam sags in the chair so I have a more comfortable position, and the rumble of his laughter vibrates through his chest. It’s now 5 A.M. and no one but Aarabelle is sleeping. “I’ll leave right now if that’s what you really want.”

 

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