Phoenix (The Bellator Saga Book 4)

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Phoenix (The Bellator Saga Book 4) Page 7

by Cecilia London


  Jack whipped his head up. “I’m not the one who downloaded classified files off a restricted server and led the federal government to our front door.”

  His incompetence was her fault? “Go fuck yourself,” she snapped.

  The mood in the room shifted. The other men wanted no part of any marital spat. Frankly, neither did Caroline. She wanted this to be over, and fast.

  So did Jack, because he took a deep breath before he spoke again. “We have carefully placed operatives in Washington and beyond,” he said. “And a few contacts up north. Any other information regarding our long term goals is on a need to know basis.”

  Clearly, recruits and estranged wives didn’t get to know anything. “We have contacts in Canada?” Caroline asked softly. Canada. Were there Americans in Canada? Americans she knew? Why on earth hadn’t it occurred to her to ask him that yesterday? She hadn’t asked about anyone. Not a single friend or family member. Not Tom or Jess. Or Chrissy.

  Or the girls.

  Jack must have seen her face fall, because the edge in his voice faded. “We can talk about that later,” he said.

  Fuck that. She needed to know. “Tell me.”

  “Caroline-”

  He knew something. Something important. Something he hadn’t wanted to tell her the day before. “Tell me!”

  Jack flinched as her voice ricocheted off the walls, and the mood continued to deteriorate. She stared at him. Only him. Every other man in the room had vanished, yet she was keenly aware of their presence.

  She pressed her fist to her lips. “Please tell me.”

  Jack looked extremely reluctant to open his mouth again but relented. “We have operatives funneling us information from Ottawa. Reliable information. And-”

  He was going to say it. He was going to say it and there was nothing she could do to stop him. She took a deep breath that did nothing to calm her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “We used every available route we had. Every angle. Every contact. There’s been no trace of any of them.”

  It wasn’t saying much but it was saying enough. But there were other ways of knowing. More than random people milling around government offices in Quebec.

  “What about the trust fund?” she whispered.

  “There’s been no activity on the account we created.” Jack placed his hand over hers. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

  She yanked her hand away, wrapping her arms around herself. She didn’t know why she’d been expecting him to say anything else. Caroline felt rotten enough for not even thinking about it – about them – until now. Further proof of how much of a shitty parent she truly was. “I know they didn’t make it,” she said, trying to clear her head. It didn’t work. She stared down at the table, her eyes burning.

  Caroline let out a small cry and reached for the scarf and stuffed animal. She didn’t care what shape they were in. She had to touch them.

  Murdock pulled them back. “Oh, we can’t have that. No touchy. You just get to look.”

  “No,” she said. “No! Give them to me!” She threw herself on the table, trying to get to the scarf and the plush toy. Powell and Fischer yanked her down roughly on the metal chair, but she pushed away from them, continuing to try and claw her way across the table, stretching toward the items.

  “Those are mine! They belong to me!” Caroline’s screams echoed through the room as the men dragged her back to the chair.

  Fischer pulled his gun out and put it to her head. “Don’t move.”

  Murdock pulled the scarf up by its edge, and the animal by its tail. “Disgusting, really. I should probably be wearing gloves. So much blood. I don’t want to get any diseases.” He tossed them back on the table, stepping back with a triumphant look on his face. “I’m sorry, Gerard. Did those mean something to you?”

  She was going to lose it. She’d tried so hard to hold on as tight as she could and she had to let go. She had to get out of there before she completely fell apart. Caroline shoved her chair back, the sound of metal against tile screeching in her ears. She looked up at the men across the table, who were all watching her. Jack had started talking again and she hadn’t bothered listening. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered. She didn’t care about the repercussions if she missed the rest of the orientation. Hopefully the apartment she’d been issued was hers to keep, because she needed to be alone. For a very, very long time.

  She could build up that wall. Build a goddamn fortress. Of stone and mortar, not metal and glass. Thick. Impenetrable. Indestructible. Designed so that sad and happy thoughts were no longer allowed inside. Meant to keep everyone and everything at bay. And she was going to start doing it right fucking now.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, wishing her voice didn’t sound so weak. “Please excuse me.”

  She set her eyes toward the floor and scurried out the door.

  * * * * *

  Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

  Jack resisted the urge to pound his fist on the table. Caroline had practically left a trail of dust behind her, she’d scooted out of that room so fast. Well, that guaranteed an end to whatever bullshit orientation session he’d planned. It didn’t matter. He needed to go after her to make sure she was okay.

  She’d snapped at him again. He hoped a night of rest would set her right, but it hadn’t. They’d all but had a giant blowup in front of the other men. She’d never aired their dirty laundry in front of others before. What had changed?

  She hates your guts. That’s what.

  He hadn’t wanted to have the discussion he dreaded in front of them and had purposely left the topic untouched during their argument the night before. One more thing that didn’t need to be rehashed. One more thing he tried to forget. And dammit, now his wife was God knew where doing God knew what with her questionable emotional state.

  He cursed under his breath. He should have found a way to change the subject. To keep her from having to hear that in a crowded room. It hadn’t been necessary. Caroline’s four compatriots were all glancing at each other. Gabe started to get up but Gig cleared his throat and put his hand on the other man’s shoulder, bringing his gaze briefly to Jack’s. An out. A signal. A clear message for his new commander. Jack didn’t know much about any of their intentions but he would fucking well take a tiny concession from any or all of them.

  “I think that’s all for today,” he said. “Head over to my office in the main administration building and Schroeder will help you settle in with supplies and uniforms.”

  The men didn’t say a word, filtering out of the room behind his advisors. Fuck. His advisors. He’d have to deal with them later too, deal with whatever other issues they hadn’t addressed during what was a rather pointless first encounter with their newest recruits. But he wasn’t going to think about that as he headed to the other side of the base.

  * * * * *

  Jack stood outside the door to her apartment, pulling his keys out of his pocket. He could knock. That would be the polite thing to do. The proper thing. But she wouldn’t answer, not if she was as upset as he thought she was. And she shouldn’t be alone, not with so many emotions on her rapidly crowding plate.

  Schroeder had almost spoken up when Jack asked for a spare key to her quarters that morning, but after close to a year he knew better than to question most of his commander’s decisions, even if they were shitty.

  He knew what everyone thought. The rumors started to spread from the instant Caroline arrived on the base. Everyone knew what happened, everyone knew she blew up at him, and everyone knew she showed up with a group of men who seemed very attached to her. Less than 24 hours had passed and every single soldier thought his wife was dragging him around by the dick. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t care even if he walked in on her fucking her new boyfriend.

  Okay, maybe then he’d care. Just a little. Even though the man had deferred to him.

  Jack turned the key in the lock, opening the door a crack, listening carefully. Nothing. At first he suspected she was
n’t there. No. She didn’t like to cry in front of other people. She would be somewhere alone. And she had no other place to go. Not yet. Caroline had a spot waiting for her in his bed but that didn’t seem too high on her list of priorities.

  She would be here. Alone.

  He pushed his way inside. The living room was empty and as soon as he inched his way closer to the bedroom, he heard the sound. He’d always hated it when she cried. When she was upset she’d do her best to keep it to herself or let it out when he wasn’t around. Even in her grief, she was always thinking of his needs. But she thought she was alone. That she could pour herself out when no one was listening. The notion caused him to feel a twinge of guilt.

  She was curled up in a ball on the bed, making terrible, pitiful mewling noises, doing her best to muffle them with the pillow trapped in her arms. Agonizing sounds, worse than when they’d told the girls goodbye.

  Jack remembered watching his mother shake with sadness at a funeral when one of his young cousins had passed away from an undiagnosed heart defect. They had not been close and his mother couldn’t stand the child’s parents, who had always been particularly disdainful of his father. He asked her later why she was so upset. “No mother should ever have to bury her child,” she said.

  He hadn’t understood then. But he understood now.

  Maybe Caroline would let him hold her. And he could tell her it would be all right. That they’d get through it together. A nice, neat set of lies that she’d never believe. But he didn’t care. He sat down on the bed and put his hand on her shoulder. She spun around so fast that she almost knocked him over.

  “What are you doing in here?” she asked.

  An accusatory, angry question. Jack wanted to reach for her but scooted back instead. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  She swiped at her eyes. “How did you get in my room? I locked the door.”

  There was no point in lying. She’d see through it anyway. “I have a key.”

  “Excuse me?” Her anger ramped into a fury he rarely saw her display, even when her temper was at its worst. “You have a key to my apartment?”

  “Yes.”

  Her voice was brittle. “Why?”

  “I asked them to give me one when you moved in.”

  She sprang from the bed. “I just moved in a few hours ago. Do you have keys to every soldier’s apartment, or just mine?”

  He’d fucked up. The only way to save himself from the fallout would be to make a quick escape and try again later. But he stood firm even as he felt his clever little plan falling to pieces. “Just yours.”

  “You – I can’t – why-”

  It took a lot to render her speechless. The reaction was almost comical. But when he saw the panic in her eyes, he sobered. Fuck. This apartment was the closest thing she’d had to privacy in months. And he’d violated it. He should have known better.

  She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “You have to control everything, don’t you?”

  Jack didn’t like what she was implying. “I don’t catch your meaning.”

  “When you don’t get what you want right away, you find a way to get it.”

  Was she referring to their argument the night before? “I wanted to make sure you were safe.” He had to do a better job of explaining himself. The words sounded insufficient.

  “We’re surrounded by armed guards 24/7. I think that’s about as safe as it’s going to get.”

  “You were just released from the hospital. I didn’t-”

  “I don’t see what that has to do with violating my private space. Give me the key.”

  He patted the key ring in his pocket. Why had he insisted on having a spare? So he could stalk her? Now he realized how stupid he had been. If his men could see him now, his knees practically buckling under as she clawed at him. The rumor mill would churn even faster.

  “I don’t – I want to keep it,” he said.

  “I don’t want you in my apartment. Are you going to monitor any of my other activities?”

  Again, easier to tell the truth with a little white lie thrown in for good measure. “Probably. But I do that with all of the troops.”

  Caroline rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you do. You must have left that out during the spectacular orientation I just attended.”

  A fair barb. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “And I want to make sure I have some fucking privacy,” she snapped.

  Every word from her mouth made him feel more guilty. There would be no easy fix. The smoke from her anger wouldn’t dissipate. Especially when he kept doing everything he could to fuel the fire. “Don’t make it sound so sordid, Caroline. It’s not like I was sneaking in to spy on you.”

  “Then why did you have it?”

  There was no good answer. He could see that now. “I-”

  “Is this how you run things?” she asked. “Doing whatever the hell you want? Is this what this organization is about? Whatever the commander says goes, except you’re allowed to violate your own rules?”

  “It’s not like that.” He tried to sound detached, and failed. “I’m your husband. I’m concerned about you.”

  “Bullshit. You love having power. Don’t deny it. You especially love having it over me.”

  He hadn’t had nearly enough time to be as devious as she claimed, but it didn’t matter. Given an opening he’d drag her back to him if he could. “Caroline, you’re making this out to be more than it is.”

  “Does anyone have a key to your apartment?”

  “No,” he conceded. “But you’re different.”

  “Ah, yes. I’m the ticking time bomb therefore I get different rules.”

  Jack was starting to think that Dr. Haddad’s concern about Caroline’s mental health wasn’t all that unrealistic. “I want to protect you.”

  “No, you want to intrude on my personal space to try and make it your own.”

  “Go ahead. Mischaracterize everything I’ve said.”

  She whirled on him. “I seem to remember another place where I had no privacy. Maybe you want to handcuff me to the bed and beat the shit out of me to make the experience complete.”

  Jesus tapdancing Christ. That was a mental image he didn’t need. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat and closed his eyes. When he opened them Caroline was giving him an exultant look. Jack scowled at her. “Congratulations. You’ve accomplished your goal of throwing me off.”

  One side of her mouth curled into a small, unsettling sneer. “Good.”

  Whatever force guiding him left his side, and his sails went still. Maybe he could change direction without the wind at his back. “I want to make sure you know you’re not alone. That we’re here to help you.”

  “I don’t want your help.”

  “But I need yours.”

  Caroline crossed her arms. “Oh, this should be good. With what?”

  He wanted to protect her, but taking the key had been a purely selfish gesture on his part. To lead to other things. Jack stared at his hands. Maybe if he gave her something, she’d return the favor and the invisible barrier between them would come crashing down. “I miss them too,” he said softly. “I miss so many things. I was hoping we could take some comfort in each other.”

  He’d hit upon a topic she didn’t wish to pursue. Her shoulders stiffened. “I don’t want to take comfort in you.”

  “I feel badly that we had to talk about the girls during the meeting.”

  “I’m sure you do. You were hoping I’d run into your arms so you could kiss it all better, weren’t you?”

  Yes. “Of course not.”

  Jack saw her clench her teeth. Under other circumstances she probably would have stamped her foot on the floor. Not that she was inclined to tantrums, but she tended to be very demonstrative when she got upset. He wanted to commend her restraint but found it upsetting that she felt the need to contain herself in front of him.

  “Give me the fucking key,” she said.

  �
��Caroline-”

  “Give it to me.”

  Jack pulled the keychain out of his pocket and she yanked it from his hand, her fingernails scratching against his palm. How desperate and doleful was he to be grateful for that small amount of physical contact? She removed her key and lobbed the keychain back at him.

  He shoved it in his pocket and the words came spilling out. “You’re the only one I can talk to about them. No one else understands. I can’t – please, Caroline. Please talk to me.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you about them.”

  Jack reached toward her and she recoiled. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have had the key in the first place.”

  “Stop being sorry. Get out.” She backed toward the living room.

  Was she that horrified at the idea of being alone in a bedroom with him? He quickly followed. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  Caroline grabbed at the edges of her sweater. “I’m fine.”

  She was about to lose control and didn’t want to do it in front of him. Now was the time to leave the battle for another day, but Jack couldn’t help himself. He stepped closer to her. “You weren’t fine last night and you’re not fine now. Please let me help you.”

  “I don’t need your help.” She paced across the living room, wringing her hands. “I want you to leave.”

  Respect her wishes. Let her be. “Please, sweetheart.”

  “Stop calling me that.” Her voice was rising.

  His subconscious could throw all the logic it wanted at him. He dodged it and dug in. “I can help. We can help each other. I have pictures. We can share memories. We can handle our grief together.”

  “Stop talking about them.”

  She didn’t want him around her. But who else could he tell? His other confidant was his fucking therapist, not his wife. There was no comparison. “I miss them.” He swallowed back his tears. “I miss our children.”

  “They’re not yours!” she shrieked. “They were never yours.”

  She may as well have stabbed him in the gut. It would have hurt less.

 

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