Storms of Change

by Radclyffe

  “Games?” Rica had a quick flash of being twelve and angrily telling her older cousin that she wasn’t interested in him that way because she preferred girls. Laughing, the fourteen-year-old Enzo had held her down with the weight of his body, forcing her to kiss him while he ground his pelvis into hers. She had bitten him, and he’d slapped her before trapping her hand between their bodies and making her caress him. Then, like now, she never moved her eyes from his. “He would have killed you then, just like now.” She braced both hands against his chest and shoved him back a step, knowing he would not create a scene in the middle of a public thoroughfare.

  “You never told,” Enzo said musingly, dropping his hands. “Maybe because you didn’t really mind.”

  Rica shook her head. Enzo was baiting her, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her anger. It would have created a family schism had she complained to her father of Enzo’s actions, and Enzo had known then, as now, that she would never do that. The family came first, before anything else. “I’m going home.”

  “I have some business to discuss with you.”

  “I’m neither discussing nor doing any kind of business with you.”

  “This message comes from your father.” Enzo glanced up and down the street, then took her arm more gently this time. “Let’s go for a walk and have a friendly conversation. Like loving cousins, eh?”

  Reluctantly, Rica fell into step beside him. It was normal for her father to use Enzo or some other trusted associate to contact her about anything business related. He never discussed such matters on the phone. They walked silently into the center of town and then out onto MacMillan Wharf. The wind knifed across the water and she shivered from the slashing cold. The sweater that had been sufficient to keep her warm a few hours earlier was woefully inadequate now, but she said nothing. Enzo was like a wild animal, preying on the weaknesses of others. She would never give him that advantage.

  “What did my father say?”

  “Look,” Enzo said, pointing to a vessel rounding Long Point and entering the harbor.

  The double-decker ferry stood out against the nighttime sky, blazing with lights on every level and approaching the pier at what looked like an impossibly fast speed. Under other circumstances, Rica enjoyed watching the captain guide the huge ship against the dock with barely a bump. Tonight, Enzo’s presence tainted even that small pleasure.

  “From here to the pier at the World Trade Center in Boston in ninety minutes.” Enzo indicated the harbor where a number of yachts were moored. “And so accessible to visitors. You couldn’t have picked a better place to live.”

  “Yes,” Rica said, pretending she didn’t follow his conversation. “It’s beautiful here.”

  “I’m sure your gallery will do very well. Some friends are very anxious to display their works there, and it’s so easy for them to deliver the merchandise.”

  Rica shook her head. “I’m sorry. I have limited space. The gallery in Manhattan would be better suited for that.”

  “Your father doesn’t think so.”

  Rica wasn’t surprised that Enzo was relaying this cloaked request. She and her father never talked of the family enterprises, which allowed them to avoid confrontation over areas where they disagreed. “I’m sure my father will understand I’m very busy with the work I already have on consignment. Please give him that message for me.”

  When she turned to leave, Enzo caught her shoulder and swung her back to face him. She pulled away, her voice as icy as the wind. “Is there something else?”

  “There may come a time when you’ll need a favor from me.” Enzo trailed his fingers along the edge of her jaw and down her neck. “There are many who believe a man is the rightful head of a family.” He half closed his eyes and bowed his head. “If anything should happen to Don Pareto, God forbid.”

  Rica resisted the urge to clasp her arms over her breasts, although her instincts screamed for her to shield herself from his fury and his thwarted lust. “My father is still a relatively young man. You’re likely to find yourself in the same position as Prince Charles—too old to rule if the time ever comes.”

  Enzo laughed. “I’ll have you in my bed long before then. You’ll think differently of matters after that.”

  “I’ll kill you before I’ll ever let you touch me.”

  Rica turned and walked away before he could touch her again. When she was far enough away that he couldn’t see her, she gave in to the cold that chilled her body and soul. Shivering uncontrollably, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and hurried into the dark.

  *

  Tory set the book that she hadn’t been reading onto the bedside table as Reese walked into the room. Reese wore an old T-shirt and shorts with the Marine Corps insignia on them, as she often did at night around the house. In fact, everything about the evening had been so routine since they’d returned from Kate and Jean’s, Tory could hardly believe that her entire life was about to change in six hours.

  “Did you get to the end of the story?”

  Reese smiled. “Nope. She fell asleep with half a chapter to go.” Reese stripped off her T-shirt and shorts and climbed naked into bed. She pulled the sheet up to her waist, turned on her side, and rested her palm in the center of Tory’s abdomen. “I’ll finish it when I get back.”

  “Good.” Tory covered Reese’s hand where it lay on the cotton nightshirt she had pulled on while waiting for Reese. In an automatic response, Reese laced her fingers through Tory’s. “What happens tomorrow after you leave here?”

  “I’m flying to North Carolina to meet with my father and then shipping out right away. The rest of my unit will follow in the next week or so.”

  “Is he going too?”

  Reese shook her head. “Not yet, and maybe not at all. I didn’t get the sense he was happy about that, either. They want him here for strategic planning, apparently.”

  “But he would rather be commanding a combat unit.” Tory couldn’t help but keep the bitterness from her voice. Rationally, she knew it wasn’t Reese’s father’s fault that any of this had happened. Reese had made her choice years ago, and for reasons that were inherently good, as good as Reese herself. Honorable, valorous reasons. Sometimes that made it the hardest of all. She could hardly resent her lover for being a courageous and noble woman. “He would rather be going, and if he can’t, you’re a good substitute.”

  “I don’t know about that part,” Reese said quietly, recognizing Tory’s anger and not begrudging it. She let go of Tory’s hand and skimmed beneath the cotton to rest on flesh. “No one wants war, but for some people—career Marines like my father—it’s a matter of training your whole life for something that may never happen. So when it does, you want the chance to prove your life has meant something.”

  “Do you feel that way?”

  “My life is you and Reggie. Right here, every day.”

  “But what about before us? When you thought you’d be a career Marine forever. Did you…want to fight?”

  Reese shook her head. “No. I never did. I mostly had the opportunity to do what I wanted to do without that. First I enforced the law, then I adjudicated it. I didn’t need war for that.” She laughed thinly. “All you need for that is people.”

  “What are you going to be doing over there?”

  “Tor,” Reese said gently. She leaned down and kissed the hollow at the base of Tory’s throat. “I’ll probably be sitting around in a tent getting bored to tears most of the time.”

  Tory knew that the military police unit Reese commanded would not be sitting quietly anywhere. She spread her fingers through Reese’s hair and guided her face lower, to her breast. “I love you even when you lie to me.”

  Reese chuckled and swept her cheek back and forth over Tory’s nipple, which was erect beneath the thin cotton. “That’s a very odd statement.” She pushed up the nightshirt and ducked her head to kiss Tory’s breast. Then she looked up, her eyes serious. “You know I wouldn’t, don’t you? Lie t
o you? It’s just that knowing isn’t always—”

  “I know.” Tory stroked Reese’s cheek. “When you’re sitting around being bored in that tent, or doing…whatever else you need to do, remember that we’re waiting for you, and that we need you.”

  “I never forget that. It’s the constant of my life.” Reese kissed the tip of Tory’s chin. “I’ll be careful, just like I am here, every day.” Reese clasped Tory and rolled onto her back, settling Tory against her side with Tory’s cheek on her shoulder. She stroked Tory’s hair and her shoulders and her back. She pulled Tory’s shirt up again so that she could run her fingertips up and down Tory’s spine in a slow caress. “You have to promise not to worry and not to work twenty-four hours a day because I’m not here to nag you.”

  “Will you be able to call?” Tory sat up and removed her shirt, then snuggled down again.

  “Yes, but probably not regularly. I’ll be able to e-mail, too.”

  Tory shifted further on top of Reese, resting her thigh between Reese’s legs. “How long do you think, really?”

  Reese sighed. “I’m not sure. Best guess—three to six months.”

  “Keep thinking three,” Tory murmured. She skimmed her fingertips over Reese’s face, touching her brows, her cheeks, her lips. “I love you.”

  “I love you,” Reese whispered. “Try not to worry, okay?”

  “I’ll give it my best.”

  “Do you think you can sleep?”

  Tory rested her head on Reese’s shoulder and fit her body to Reese’s, circling her waist with one arm. “I don’t know that I want to. I’d rather just lie here with you.” She kissed Reese’s breast. “I can still feel the way we made love the last time. It was perfect, but if you need—”

  “No,” Reese said quietly. “I always want you, but right now, this is enough.”

  “It’s all right to sleep if you need to. I’ll be here.”

  Reese nuzzled Tory’s hair, breathing in her essence, warming everywhere inside. “Every time I go to sleep, I’ll feel you just like this.”

  Tory nodded wordlessly, giving her every bit of strength she had. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how hard it was to truly love. “I wouldn’t change one single thing about you, Reese.”

  “Thank you,” Reese whispered. She closed her eyes and emptied her mind of everything except Tory. With love came peace.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lieutenant Colonel Reese Conlon, USMCR—her duffel bag packed and ready downstairs by the front door—stood by the side of the bed and looked down upon the sleeping woman and child. The sky outside the windows gave no hint of dawn. Tory slept curled on her side, her hair nearly obscuring the elegant lines of her face. Only the corner of her full, wide mouth was visible. Reggie lay with her face pillowed between Tory’s breasts. Long gold lashes lay against creamy cheeks. Her lips, rosebud pink, were pursed in a tiny smile of innocent bliss. No painter had ever captured the image of an angel as perfectly as in that moment.

  Absently, Reese turned the plain gold band on her left ring finger, smiling as her daughter made a small cooing sound and nuzzled against Tory’s breast. When Reese had risen after dozing for a few hours to shower and put on her uniform, Reggie had started to fuss, almost as if she too understood that a momentous change was about to befall their lives. That and everything else about the night was unusual enough that Reese had rescued the baby from her crib and brought her to Tory. The fact that Tory had fallen back to sleep was just one more indication of how difficult this was for her. She was clearly exhausted, and Reese felt a surge of anxiety knowing that circumstances were not likely to improve.

  As if reading her troubled thoughts, Tory opened her eyes and instantly fixed on Reese’s face. “Is it time?”

  “Yes.” Seeing the pain in Tory’s eyes, and knowing that she’d put it there, was enough to break Reese’s resolve. Six months ago, she would have sworn on her life that she would never do anything to hurt the only woman she had ever loved. She’d been wrong, and she wondered if she would ever be able to make up for putting Tory through this.

  “Let me put her back to bed,” Tory said quietly, starting to rise.

  “Here,” Reese said, extending her arms. “Let me take her.”

  “She’ll muss your uniform.”

  “I don’t care. Besides, you know she’s got a stomach like mine. Cast-iron. She won’t spit up.”

  Tory slid from bed, still naked, and passed their sleeping daughter to Reese. She skimmed her hand down Reese’s chest, fingering the rows of service ribbons, and smiled shakily. “You look so goddamned sexy in this.”

  “Good to hear.” Reese’s voice was husky as she gently cradled Reggie against her shoulder, knowing it might be months, possibly longer, before she would be able to hold her this way again. Contemplating missing a day in her daughter’s life was torture, but imagining weeks or months passing in her absence was nearly unbearable. As the agonizing realization of all that she stood to lose struck hard at her heart, she tenderly stroked the baby’s soft hair, straightened her shoulders, and forced a grin. “Wait til you see me in camo.”

  Tory turned away, fumbling at the foot of the bed for her robe, the tears in her eyes making it difficult for her to focus. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry. She would not allow Reese to leave them with anything other than the sure and certain knowledge that they loved her more than life and would be there when she came home. When she comes home. Please, God. Please.

  “Tor?”

  The faint note of uncertainty in her lover’s voice solidified Tory’s determination. She blinked once and turned back, her eyes clear and her face composed. “It’s all right, baby.” She brushed her fingers over Reese’s cheek and leaned forward to kiss her softly. “It’s all right.”

  The crunch of tires over the seashells lining their driveway reverberated like gunshots in the still room. Despite herself, Tory jerked at the sound. Her eyes met Reese’s.

  “That’s Bri,” Reese said unnecessarily.

  “I want to come with you to the airport.” Tory’s voice shook.

  Worry, not anger, Reese thought. She started toward the bedroom door, Reggie asleep on her shoulder. With her free hand she caught Tory’s. “We already decided, Tor. It’ll be easier for you and the baby if—”

  “Nothing is going to make it easier for us.” The quick flash of pain in Reese’s face stopped the next words before they could be spoken. Nothing except you not leaving. “I’m sorry.”

  Starting down the stairs, Reese shook her head. “No. Don’t say that.” At the front door, she turned and held out the sleeping child. “I’ll call you as soon as I can. I don’t know when that will be.”

  “I understand.”

  Bending, Reese kissed Reggie’s forehead, then gently encircled Tory’s waist, drawing her near. She brushed her lips over Tory’s once, then again, lingeringly, as she smoothed her hands up and down Tory’s back. “I love you. Both of you—so much.”

  Then Reese stepped back and reached for her duffel.

  “Wait!” Tory carried Reggie to the sofa, where she laid her down and nestled a cushion beside her to prevent her from rolling off. Swiftly, she returned to Reese and put both arms around her neck, pressing close. With her hands in Reese’s hair, she found Reese’s mouth, cleaving to the long hard lines of the familiar body. With a soft moan, Tory kissed her, a deep probing kiss that spoke more of promises than passion. When she lifted her mouth away, she searched the blue eyes that held her soul. “I love you. I need you. Reggie needs you. You be safe, and you come home. Do you understand?”

  “I will,” Reese said, her voice hoarse and her body trembling. “I promise. I will.”

  A moment later, Tory stood in the doorway, the baby in her arms, watching her lover stow her duffel bag in the back of the police cruiser, thinking of the things they hadn’t spoken of. In less than an hour, Reese would be on her way to the Marine base at Camp Lejeune, pending deployment of the 8th Battalion of the II Marin
e Expeditionary Force. In a matter of days, she would be in Iraq. As an experienced ranking officer with training in the military police force, Tory knew that Reese would be in the heart of the battle zone.

  The police cruiser turned left from the driveway onto 6A, heading toward Provincetown and the tiny airport at Race Point. As the taillights faded from sight, a terrible sadness settled in Tory’s chest. The baby stirred in her arms, and Tory gently kissed her forehead.

  “It’s going to be all right.”

  She wasn’t certain how that could be, when it felt as if her heart were breaking, but she would never stop believing in Reese and the life they had made. Reese would come home, because anything else was unthinkable.

  *

  Bri switched off the ignition, popped the trunk with the inside lever, and jumped out of the cruiser almost before the vehicle had come to a complete stop. She was hauling the duffel out of the trunk when Reese reached her.

  “Let me give you a hand,” Reese said.

  “I got it,” Bri said in short, clipped tones.

  Reese covered Bri’s hand where it gripped the canvas strap and squeezed gently. “Hold up a minute.”

  Bri stood still, her body stiff, her face averted.

  “What’s on your mind?” Reese asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Bri.” Reese’s voice was gently chiding.

  “We should go. Get you checked in.”

  Reese glanced through the glass doors into the main room of the tiny airport. The lights inside seemed unnaturally bright, illuminating the plastic chairs and serviceable all-weather carpet with harsh honesty. The room was empty save for two airport employees and a security officer. “Not much of a line.”

  Bri shrugged.

  “This is no time for silence between us.” Reese rested her hand on Bri’s shoulder, and as had happened only once before when Bri had been much younger, she was taken off guard when Bri launched herself into her arms. Reese circled Bri’s narrow waist and held her hard against her chest while she stroked the back of her head with her other hand. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay.”