Buchanan stood up. His friends, who had been so raucous before, found themselves quite content to start eating their food again. He looked back at them, realizing he was on his own. “Got your little posse with you, I see,” he said.
Caroline looked over her shoulder. Her three compatriots were about ten feet behind her. They knew this was her fight. That and they’d had enough trouble already the last few months. “How’s that glass jaw of yours?”
He brought his hand to his chin. “Just fine.”
“If you have a problem with me, you may as well spit it out.” she said.
“Feeling lonely?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Now that your pussy of a boyfriend is gone, you must be crying yourself to sleep every night.”
This fucking base and its fucking rumor mill. It didn’t matter that she’d brought the gossip on herself. “I’m fine. Thank you for your sympathies.”
Buchanan took a step closer so that only she could hear him. The cafeteria seemed deathly quiet. “A cunt like you shouldn’t be in charge of anything,” he hissed. “If you’d trained Morton and your other men properly he’d still be here.”
A nonsensical statement that struck a nerve nonetheless. “Fuck you,” Caroline said.
He whispered something in her ear and before she could even process what he’d said she flashed back to the day he had interrogated her, to those weeks at The Fed, to every time any man had said anything dirty or disgusting or vile to her, and she came apart. She flew at him, punching him in the jaw, hoping she could break it again.
“You fucking asshole,” she said, shoving Buchanan onto the table. Trays of food dropped to the floor and his lunch mates scattered. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”
He’d gained some muscle as his jaw had healed and he pushed her off him, kicking her in the thighs. “Crazy bitch,” he spat.
She sprang up and clawed at his eyes, tearing at his shirt and punching him in the stomach, and they fell to the floor, rolling around, wrestling and punching at each other. Caroline could feel someone trying to pull her off him but she kept fighting.
“Stop, Gerard.” She heard Gig’s voice but it seemed far away. “Cool off, girl.”
Gig and Crunch had their arms around her, pulling her backward as she continued to kick and scream. There were other people talking to her but she didn’t know who they were.
“Let me go!” she cried. “I’m not done with him.”
Jones got in her face. “Stop it, Princess,” he said. “Come on now.”
Buchanan rose to his feet and reached over Jones’ shoulder to slap Caroline in the face. “Twat.”
Jones spun around. Grief had given him a short fuse as well. “Don’t talk that way to the lady.” He punched Buchanan in the nose, pouncing on top of him.
“Fucking Christ.” Gig grabbed Caroline around the waist, holding her back.
“A little help?” Crunch called, as he pushed Gig and Caroline away from Jones and Buchanan. “Anybody?”
Several MPs ran into the cafeteria and pulled Jones off Buchanan. Two of them yanked Caroline out of Crunch and Gig’s grasp. “You two,” one of them said. “Out. Now.”
The entire cafeteria was staring at them all. Two other MPs had Buchanan by the arms and were dragging him away from her. Jones had disappeared. The MPs lugged her through the cafeteria door. One of them pushed her face first into the hallway wall.
“Arms behind your back,” he said, pulling out his handcuffs.
Gig rushed up behind him. “Don’t cuff her,” he said.
Crunch started grabbing at the first MP’s hands, and the second one pulled him back.
“Don’t try it, buddy,” he told Crunch.
“Don’t cuff her,” Gig repeated. He turned to Caroline, who was struggling against the wall. “Calm down, Gerard. Come on.”
The MP pushed her head into the wall, harder this time. Caroline tried to pull back and he slammed her into the wall again. She was sinking. Sinking into the concrete, which had turned to liquid. Couldn’t he feel it? She was dragging him with her. If they plummeted into the abyss would anyone be able to save them?
“Stop resisting,” he said.
“I mean it, man,” Gig said. “I’m former Chicago Police. Don’t cuff her.”
“Oh, you’re going to make her compliant? Maybe with a nice little love song?” The second MP pushed Gig in the chest. “Stand down.”
Caroline was still struggling against the first MP, with Crunch standing close to her, whispering in her ear, trying to calm her down. The MP grabbed her wrists, placing them behind her back. The world faded away.
* * * * *
Gabe had told him about the blackouts but hell if Gig was ready for it. Those goddamn MPs were oblivious to the woman vanishing before them. He exchanged a glance with Crunch, who shook his head.
Fuck.
“Stop,” Caroline said. “Please stop.” She tried to pull out of the first MP’s grasp and the second MP took out a baton and hit her in the back. She groaned in pain and slumped against the wall.
“Stop resisting,” the MP repeated.
“It’s a trigger,” Crunch said softly. “They used to do that to her at The Fed.”
Caroline sagged against the wall and the MP placed the cuffs around her wrists. “Like I give a fuck,” he said, purposely making them too tight.
Gig shook his head. None of them needed this. Not him, not Crunch, not even Jones, who’d stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. But especially her. “Fucking Christ,” he said, leaning toward Caroline. “It’s okay, Gerard. Calm down. No one’s going to hurt you.”
She twisted her wrists in the cuffs, scraping her skin raw. “No,” she said. “Let me go.” Tears streamed down her face. She pushed herself into the wall as the MPs tried to pull her away. “No!” She started to scream. “Stop. Please stop.”
Gig grabbed her by the chin. Maybe he could get her to focus. Focus on something, anything, before she was too far gone. “Don’t do this, Caroline. You’ll be fine, okay? You’ll be fine.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “We’re coming with you.”
The first MP scowled at him. “The fuck you are. She’s going straight to the commander.”
“He’s going to be thrilled at how you treated her,” Crunch said.
No doubt. Gig suspected it wouldn’t be pretty. “We’re going with you anyway,” he said. “Unless you want to cuff us too. Just try it.”
The MP yanked Caroline away from the wall and she screamed again. Her knees buckled and Gig and Crunch rushed forward to pull her to her feet.
“You’re okay, Princess,” Crunch said. “We’re right here.”
The two MPs pushed through them, shoving Caroline down the hall. Oh, they thought they could outrun him? Both of them? Gig chased after them with Crunch at his side.
“I’m not responsible for what happens when the commander sees the two of you,” the second MP said.
It took all of Gig’s self-restraint not to kick the man in the back. Or steal his baton and do the same damn thing he’d done to Caroline. Goddamn prick. “Do we look like we care?”
Caroline shuffled her feet, stumbling occasionally, her head down. Fuck. This was going to get worse before it got better.
Crunch ran up next to her. “You’re going to see your husband. Okay?”
She looked at him, her eyes glassy, and Crunch shot a glance over at Gig. “Fuck, I don’t think she knows what’s going on.”
No shit. It was a long walk from the cafeteria to the main administration building and it was raining. By the time they arrived at the commander’s office they were all soaking wet. Caroline was shivering and could barely stand.
The MPs led them into the outer room. Jones and Buchanan were already there, accompanied by their own police officers. They were sitting down. Neither was cuffed.
Jones jumped up. “What the fuck, man? What’s wrong with you? Get those off of her.”
Gig smiled. He and Jon
es had their differences but the man was loyal as hell.
Schroeder stood up. “Corporal Jones, sit down.” One of the MPs shoved Jones into his seat as he dialed the phone. “They’re all here, sir,” he said.
Gig stood next to Schroeder’s desk, surprised when none of the MPs forced him to move. He hoped the fireworks would start. Because he wanted to see Commander McIntyre light up the fucking sky with these assholes.
* * * * *
Jack sighed, straightening his collar. He didn’t need this. Schroeder had given him bits and pieces of a story. Something about a fight in the cafeteria. He hadn’t given a shit about the details until Caroline’s name was mentioned. Nothing good could come from this situation. And he wasn’t sure he was ready to confront whatever came his way. But he had to act like the leader he was. Treat her the same as anyone else.
Time to pretend you know what you’re doing. Make sure they know you’re incredibly inconvenienced by their insolence. Make sure all of them know. Especially her.
He took a deep breath and schooled his features before opening his office door. Too many damn people in his waiting area. Military police. Corporal Buchanan. Caroline’s friends. But his eyes went immediately to his wife. Head down, barely moving except for the occasional shiver. Utterly defeated. He hadn’t quite expected this.
“Why is Major Gerard in handcuffs?” he demanded.
The MP holding her by the cuffs stood a little straighter, pulling Caroline up in the process. She screamed in pain.
“She instigated a fight in the cafeteria, sir. She attacked Buchanan out of nowhere and resisted arrest.”
“Only because you tried to cuff her, asshole,” Crunch said.
Jack had to maintain order. Even if his inclination was to blow all the rules to hell. “Watch it, Mr. Rodriguez.”
His voice caught her attention. Caroline looked up at Jack and back down again. Her face was damp, maybe from tears, maybe from the rain. All he wanted to do was drag her into his office, yank those cuffs off, and comfort her. Right after he beat the shit out of that asshole MP who arrested her. Fuck the details. He didn’t need them. He didn’t care what she’d done or who she’d done it to, someone else was going to pay.
Keep it together. He couldn’t very well help her if he couldn’t maintain his composure. Jack tipped her chin up. “Did you do that? Did you assault another soldier?”
“I’m not telling you shit,” she said.
Robotic. Dull. Rehearsed. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.
“Commander,” Gig said. “May I have a word?”
Perhaps he’d be granted some enlightenment. “Yes, Sergeant.”
Gig had the grace to lean in so he wouldn’t be overheard. “She only resisted when he tried to cuff her, sir. She doesn’t react well to being placed in restraints. I’m not entirely sure she knows where she is.”
Fuck. He desperately wanted answers but every time he was given another piece of the puzzle it sickened him further. Jack examined Caroline again. Her eyes were dead. Expressionless. He had to do something to get her attention. To focus on him and nothing else. Surely he could manage that. “Major Gerard,” he said firmly. “Did you attack Corporal Buchanan?”
She dived toward him, trying to ram his head with hers. Jack instinctively took a step backward and she stumbled to her knees. The MP yanked her back and she yelped.
“Fuck you,” she finally said. “I’m not telling you shit.”
Jack turned to the MP. “Remove those,” he said, indicating the handcuffs. “Do that to her again and deal with your own disciplinary action.”
“But sir-”
This soldier dared argue with the commander? Jack didn’t care if he sounded pretentious or overbearing. Standards had to be set. “Do it. Major Gerard is no threat to me.”
“But she-”
“Must I repeat myself? Do it.” Jack turned to the second MP. “Get Jones and Buchanan out of here. I’ll deal with them later. Return them to their quarters.”
The first MP removed her cuffs and Caroline groaned and fell to the floor. Jack yanked the handcuffs out of his hand. They were streaked with red. Blood. Her blood. Oh, fuck this guy.
“Do you think this is an appropriate way to treat another soldier?” he asked.
The MP gave Jack a rigid look. “She was resisting arrest.”
“And you responded by making her cuffs too tight?”
“She was being violent, sir. She was out of control.”
“She was not,” Crunch broke in, dropping to his knees and rubbing Caroline’s back.
“Quiet, Mr. Rodriguez.” Jack pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to Crunch. He turned to the MP. “Perhaps you misunderstood my question. Do you think you followed proper protocol in arresting Major Gerard? In purposely injuring her?”
The MP lowered his head ever so slightly. “Yes, sir. Absolutely.”
There were times when Jack wondered whether he had any control over these men at all. “You are sadly misguided,” he said. “You are relieved of duty. Return to your housing and await further instruction from Captain Schroeder.”
“Sir-”
Jack tried not to think about Crunch tending to those open wounds. About that unsettling blank expression on his wife’s face. He could see the stains seeping through his handkerchief out of the corner of his eye. This fucking joke of a police officer needed to get out of his sight now, before he spilled the man’s blood all over the carpet in front of Schroeder’s desk. Fuck keeping it together. Fuck everything.
“She doesn’t need any more scars!” he bellowed. “She has enough already!”
The MP lowered his head further. “Understood, sir.”
Jack doubted this soldier understood a damn thing. “Get out of here. Now.”
Gig and Crunch pulled Caroline to her feet. Crunch came around to face her, as Gig massaged her arms and Crunch wrapped Jack’s bloodstained handkerchief around her wrists.
“You’re okay, Princess,” Crunch said. “All right?”
Her eyelids drooped. “I’m not talking.”
So stoic and impassive. He had to get through to her. Surely she wasn’t too far gone. Surely the barrier could be broken. Jack stepped in between the two men and cupped her face in his hands. “Caroline, it’s Jack. Can you hear me?”
“Leave me alone,” she said.
He pulled her chin up so they were facing each other. She needed to look at him. See him. Recognize that she was safe. “Sweetheart,” he said softly. “Snap out of it. Come on, now.”
“Leave me alone,” she mumbled. “I don’t know anything.”
Jack gazed into her eyes, hoping for a response but seeing vacant nothingness in return. Those wide, red rimmed eyes. That trembling lip. All part of a goddamn desperate attempt to hold her shit together while slipping away from reality.
He could take her and run. Grab a Jeep and drive until they ran out of gas. He could provide for her. For them. He could take care of her. Then she’d see reason. She’d get better. She just needed time, and love, and privacy. Away from this damn base and this fucking ineffectual rebellion. Staying here was doing both of them more harm than good.
Look at me. See me. I know you can.
His presence wasn’t enough. His words weren’t enough. He said them anyway. “Caroline,” he whispered. “Please.”
A fat tear gathered on her eyelash and slid down her face. He brushed it away, leaning in closer and kissing her cheek. He could get through to her. He had to. He just had to keep talking. “Don’t cry, baby. No one can hurt you. Not while I’m here.”
No response. He thought maybe she’d come to her senses, at least so she could yell at him for using that pet name in front of other people. Dammit, she was beginning to frighten him. Clearly he’d misjudged the extent of her trauma. How deep those mental wounds ran. He wiped the remaining wetness from her face and cleared his throat, aware that the other men were all purposely avoiding eye contact with him. No
, he was definitely not keeping it together. At all. Jack straightened his shoulders. “Mr. Gigowski, Mr. Rodriguez, would you escort the major back to her room?”
“Yes, sir,” Gig said, putting his arm around her.
Thank God she had people who gave a shit about her. Maybe it would make his job easier. “This isn’t over, Caroline,” Jack told her quietly. “There have to be consequences for your behavior.”
“I’m not talking,” she said.
He needed to figure this out. Because he was at a total fucking loss. And he needed some goddamn privacy to process everything. Complete privacy. “Take her home, gentlemen. Do not leave her by herself.” Jack turned to Schroeder. “I’m going to want witness reports on this as soon as possible. Do not disturb me until you have them in hand. Please escort Caroline and her team back to her apartment. You can take the rest of the afternoon off.”
“Yes, sir,” Schroeder grumbled, grabbing the keys to his Jeep.
Jack shoved his way into his inner office, shutting the door hard. Screw professionalism. And forget keeping all of his demons at bay. They’d stormed the castle and were charging inside, seeking treasures he was determined not to let them keep. Caroline was in far, far more trouble than he thought. What on earth was he going to do?
Chapter Thirteen
Gig liked Captain Schroeder about as much as he liked chewing on glass, but vowed to keep his cool. He and Crunch guided Caroline down the hall and out the building. Schroeder jumped ahead of them, leading them to his Jeep. It was a short drive back to the residences but it was still raining. None of them spoke until Schroeder pulled up to the front of the building.
“Thanks for the lift,” Gig said, as he and Crunch helped Caroline out of the back seat.
“It wasn’t voluntary,” Schroeder said.
Gig scowled. What a crusty excuse for a man. Maybe he was good at paperwork. “You’re a little ball of sunshine, you know that?”
Schroeder leapt forward to hold the main door for them. “Just make sure she’s safe, all right?”
Gig told himself to behave but was in no mood to exercise his common sense. Even if this guy did outrank him. “Aw, I didn’t know you cared.”
Phoenix (The Bellator Saga Book 4) Page 13