Phoenix (The Bellator Saga Book 4)

by Cecilia London

  “You sleeping better?” he asked.

  She wasn’t going to lie. The guys knew about her insomnia, both real and forced. “No.”

  Gig frowned. “How do you really feel about therapy?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Why not?”

  He wasn’t going to let up, so she hit back at the man who wasn’t there to defend himself. “Jack’s only doing this as a power play.”

  “The commander, you mean.”

  Trust Gig to point out her hypocritical semantics. “Jack,” Caroline corrected.

  “You need to take this seriously,” he said.

  Oh please. “I’ll take it as seriously as I have to.”

  Gig frowned again. He’d been doing that a lot lately. She didn't want to accuse him of judging her, but he was coming close. “It's not a power play. It's necessary. You broke the same guy's jaw twice without even really trying.”

  Too bad she didn't remember it. “I did?” Caroline spooned some pudding. “Yay me.”

  Crunch and Jones chuckled, but Gig remained cold. “I mean it, Gerard. Don’t fuck around with this. I don’t care about your issues with your husband.”

  She hoped his promotion didn’t mean he’d had all the fun sucked out of him. But the nice thing about Gig’s pseudo-judgment was his lack of desire to tiptoe around it. He just said whatever the fuck he meant. “Why is this bothering you so much?” she asked.

  “Because we want you with us, and you can’t come back until you learn to hold your temper.”

  Caroline suspected there was a bit more to his opinion than that, but she wasn’t about to start an intense discussion in a crowded cafeteria. She opened her mouth to change the topic, but Jones cut her off.

  “By the way, Buchanan got kicked out,” he said smugly.

  She’d suspected as much, but it was nice to receive confirmation. “Because of me?”

  “I assume so,” Crunch said.

  “Heard he had to be dragged out kicking and screaming,” Jones said, trying not to laugh.

  “What happens when they kick people out?”

  “They have to fill any term they signed on for with the California Republican Army,” Gig said. “And if you’re transferred over there for disciplinary reasons, you’ve got a long road ahead.”

  Maybe he’d get stuck mashing potatoes and doing a thousand pushups. “So Buchanan has to buck up and deal, huh?” Caroline asked.

  Gig smiled. “I guess so.”

  Caroline was glad he’d still be under close watch by another agency. She had wondered if he’d blab about her whereabouts the instant he left, but that didn’t seem as likely if he was trapped on another military base.

  “Is that how it works for everyone?” she asked Gig. “If we don’t cut it, the CRA takes us?” Funny how the higher ups didn’t mention that when they first got there.

  “I wouldn’t think they’d do it to you,” Gig said.

  “I don’t plan on getting kicked out.”

  “Good.” He broke into a smile. “Then go kick ass in therapy.”

  * * * * *

  Caroline had to do a better job of staying in contact with her friends. It was nice to know that the other soldiers respected her, even with limitations, but she didn’t intend to get close to them. She had her small circle and that was enough. But she could still make time for people who were nice to her. She slid into the kitchen unnoticed after she disposed of her lunch tray. Boone stopped what he was doing when she came in, putting his knife down and pushing some vegetables to the side.

  “Thought you’d show up,” he said.

  Caroline slid onto a stool across from him. “Whatcha making?”

  “Soup. Want to help?”

  “Not if you’re putting all that healthy crap in there.”

  He grinned. “We’re serving chicken fingers and fries too. For your high class palate.”

  She liked when people felt comfortable enough to joke with her. She did love her junk food. “How’ve you been?”

  “All right,” he said. “You miss peeling potatoes?”

  “Hardly. I heard a rumor you had ice cream.”

  “You didn’t hear a rumor. You snuck peeks while you were slacking off. Or you came in after hours to check it out.”

  She gave him a coy smile. “I admit nothing. Break it out.”

  Boone walked over to the freezer and pulled out a five gallon container. “Been saving this one for you. Heard it was your favorite.”

  Dulce de Leche. Totally her favorite. Gobs of caramel in sweet not quite vanilla ice cream. Caroline tried not to drool. “You’d better get me a big bowl.”

  “I get some too. I earned a break.” He grabbed some spoons and bowls and doled out healthy portions for both of them before taking the stool next to her and settling in for an aimless chat. Caroline scarfed down most of her bowl as they yammered on about nothing.

  “I used to love this stuff,” she said. “I’d sneak into the pantry at the Governor’s Mansion late at night when I was hungry and go to town. It was almost impossible to find the brand I liked in Pennsylvania but Jack always made sure-”

  “Jack always made sure what?”

  Caroline heard a familiar voice behind her as Boone busied himself with his bowl. Oh, she’d made the connection. She just hadn’t expected her husband to walk in the door immediately after the fact. “Nothing,” she mumbled.

  “I see you found the ice cream,” Jack said.

  “Sir,” Boone began. “I didn’t-”

  Jack waved him off. “It’s fine.” He smiled at Caroline. “It was meant for you anyway.”

  Annoying how he used resources for his own purposes. Did he think he could win her over with dairy products?

  “May I speak with you alone?” he asked. “After you finish your dessert.”

  Caroline put her bowl in the dishwasher. She hated to waste what little was left but her appetite was gone. “Thanks,” she told Boone. “I’ll be back tomorrow so we can catch up.”

  “Sure thing,” he said. “I’ve got a cheese grater with your name on it.”

  She’d have to make sure to come at a time when she wouldn’t be conscripted into food prep, but that was a very narrow window. Jack led her into a conference room just off the cafeteria.

  “How was your first session with Dr. Haddad?” he asked.

  She didn’t want to give him a play by play. “Fine.”

  “No need to be so enthusiastic.”

  “Not much to say beyond that.”

  He pressed his index fingers together, tapping them against his chin. “Caroline, please. Can we try to have a civilized conversation?”

  When he was always following her around? How had he known she was in the kitchen? “Why?”

  “Because it would be a refreshing change of pace for you.”

  Caroline examined his right hand. His knuckles were swollen. “What happened to you?”

  Jack flexed his fingers. “Nothing.”

  She certainly didn’t want to volunteer information but he’d talk if she asked. “No, really. What happened?”

  “Corporal Buchanan proved reluctant to leave the base this morning.”

  “And you took the liberty of escorting him out.”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  His evasiveness wasn’t so much deliberate as it was reserved. “What the hell did you do?” she demanded.

  Jack gave her a half smile. “Buchanan refused to leave. In the process of removing him from the facility, his eye socket made contact with my fist. It’s not a big deal.”

  Did he think she would find his pugnaciously chivalrous gesture flattering? “You beat him up, didn’t you?”

  “I punched him once.” He flexed again. “I made it count.”

  “People sure are violent around here,” Caroline muttered.

  “Actually,” he said. “You and I are the only ones who can’t control our tempers. I don’t know what that says about either of us or our emotional well
-being.”

  He intended for that remark to prod her into opening up but she wasn’t having it. Caroline crossed her arms over her chest. His anger management was as shitty as hers. “Does this mean you have to talk to Natalie too?”

  “I’ve already been doing that.” He tapped his fingers against his leg. “Why didn’t you tell me what Buchanan said to you in the cafeteria?”

  “Jack-”

  The fingers balled into a tight fist. “You should have told me. Immediately.”

  Caroline hadn’t been sure whether to believe Dr. Haddad when she said she’d share that information with Jack. But she’d told him. And probably embellished it. And Jack had responded in the hotheaded way Caroline had expected. Which meant he was thinking any number of things after the fact. Her palms started to sweat. She needed to get out of there. She didn’t care if he was the commander, she didn’t care that he was concerned, she needed to get the fuck out of that room and away from him. “I didn’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  Because it’s embarrassing. Because I was ashamed. Because it’s not fair to burden you. “Because it’s none of your business.”

  Jack sighed a little too dramatically. “Is anything my business anymore?”

  He probably didn’t realize how unintentionally amusing he sounded. His annoyance was strangely soothing. She wiped her palms on her jeans. “Not really.”

  “It might help if you talked to me,” he said softly.

  “I don’t want to. I’m stuck talking to Natalie. Why the hell would I want to talk to you?”

  “Because I care about you. I want to help you.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  Jack closed his eyes, a sure sign he was trying to keep his emotions in check. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell me? I won’t judge you, I won’t be angry with you, I won’t pity you. I swear.”

  He already knew the shameful things Buchanan had said. Wasn’t that enough? “I can’t think of a damn thing worth sharing with you right now,” Caroline snapped.

  She had hoped her anger would push him away but he moved closer to her. “I can’t bear thinking about what must have happened to you in that place,” he said. “To imagine those men hurting you – I can’t-”

  Tell him. Tell him everything.

  No. Caroline couldn’t go down that road with him. Not when she spent most of her time trying to block those memories out. “That’s not your concern.”

  “It absolutely is my concern. Please give me something. Something to help me sleep better at night. Something to let me ease your suffering.” He reached for her. “Please, sweetheart.”

  How could she do that when she spent her nights awake and alone, praying for a peaceful slumber of her own? She was wound up too tight. They both were. And she didn’t want to be around him when either of them cracked. “I can’t do that,” she whispered, and spun around to leave.

  Jack grabbed her arm. “Caroline, please-”

  The press of his skin against hers seared her soul. She couldn’t bear when he made physical contact with her. “Don’t touch me,” she yelled, shaking him off. “Don’t ever touch me again. Understand?”

  He looked away from her. “I’m sorry.”

  She rubbed her arm, trying to block out the feel of his hand on her. It would linger on her flesh when she was alone, a reminder that Caroline would never, ever break free of him. “It doesn’t matter what they did. I’ve been damaged. It can’t be undone. That’s all you need to know.”

  He took a deep breath. “I need more than that.”

  She had to get out of the room. How close was the door? “That’s all you’re going to get.”

  “Please, Caroline.” His voice started to shake. “Please let me help you.”

  She looked down at her feet. She had to give him something but couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. Not when it was so easy to take the coward’s way out and push him away. “You can’t help me. No one can.” She backed out the door and broke into a full run down the hall.

  * * * * *

  Caroline was always doing that. Running. She used to hate it, would only do it if she absolutely had to. And now she was always running away. Never toward anything. Always away. Except to therapy. She’d drag herself to therapy even if it sucked. And this particular session had dragged on for far too long. She and Natalie stumbled across a longer discussion about her relationship with Christine, which wasn’t easy but turned out to be a lot more appetizing than anything else she could think of. But Natalie wanted to press a different topic. She always did. She’d force Caroline to cover at least two shitty things each time they met. Maybe she was a sadist. Sure enough, she went there as soon as they reached the thirty minute mark.

  “Jack thinks you’ve given up,” Natalie said.

  They’d only met a few times but Natalie was pretty easy to peg. The subject change was right on cue. “Is anything I say private?” Caroline asked.

  “In here, absolutely. I can’t help if other people share their insights with me.”

  Caroline rolled her eyes. “What did he do?”

  “He called me the other night.” Natalie hesitated. “He was upset.”

  “That’s nice.”

  Natalie tapped her fingers on her desk. Funny how people always seemed to be finding ways to occupy their hands when they were talking to her. It made Caroline think they were doing their best not to wring her neck. Which wasn’t a particularly comforting observation.

  “Are you going to be this way for the rest of the session?” Natalie asked.

  Caroline saw no point in lying. “Probably.”

  “Why did you speak that way to Jack?”

  Her defensive anger was starting to frighten her, but she didn’t do much to hold it back. “I don’t owe him anything. I don’t owe anyone anything.”

  “Have you given up?”

  Caroline stared at her hands. Maybe she could stall for the next half hour and her doctor would shut up about it.

  “It’s okay if you’re struggling with things,” Natalie said quietly. “It might take a while to make progress.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Caroline asked. “Don’t give me that bullshit you handed me before.”

  Natalie scowled at her. “God, are you in a mood. Maybe we should reschedule.”

  “Oh, I get it. Once I want to know something you shut it all down. Good to know.”

  “I’m not required to tell you anything. My disciplinary slate is clean.”

  Well, that was certainly honest. “Fine,” Caroline said. “Maybe I don’t feel like talking anymore.”

  “Do you want to stop meeting with me? That means you’re out.”

  Honest and blunt. Natalie knew the truth. Fuck it all. Caroline rubbed her palm back and forth against the wooden armrest on her chair.

  “Well?” Natalie asked. “Do you? I can call Jack and tell him we’re done. I’m sure we can process you out in a few hours.” She reached for the phone on her desk.

  “No!” Caroline almost lunged forward to stop her before leaning back in her chair, shocked by her own reaction. “I mean, I’ll talk.”

  Natalie pointed a pen at her. “Why are you here?”

  “I want to get better.”

  “Do you think talking to me will help?”

  Honesty. Therapy demanded honesty. Natalie was being hella honest with her. “Probably not.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Because I like talking to you,” Caroline mumbled.

  Natalie gave her the look she most often threw when she got annoyed with Caroline’s responses. “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The pen toppled onto the desk. “We really need to work on your insight.”

  “I don’t have any.”

  Natalie drummed her fingers on her notebook. “Are we just going to go through the motions from now on? Come on. Why do you like talking to me?”

  She could try. A little. “You’re
nice,” Caroline said.

  “Other people aren’t nice to you?”

  She always got strange looks from people. Unless that was just in her head. “Some of them are. Most don’t know what to say.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  Because I’m a glacial bitch. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you think maybe it’s because you’re a little closed off?”

  “Maybe.”

  “A lot of what you’re thinking is in your imagination. The other soldiers have a great deal of respect for you.”

  All the words of encouragement from the guys seemed rather trite now. Even if Natalie agreed with them, it was much easier to focus on the negative. “You must not have spoken to my training officers. They hassled me all the time.”

  “And you gave it back to them. Men appreciate that sort of response.”

  “What, me acting like one of the guys?”

  “It worked for you in Congress.”

  There were so many paths for her to go down, but Dr. Haddad kept choosing the ones that ended at undesirable locations. “Just how much research did you do on me?” Caroline asked.

  “I told you,” Natalie said. “Enough.”

  “Sounds like you spent a lot of time reading articles that haven’t been scrubbed from the internet.”

  Natalie shrugged. “A little. All I know is what’s floating around. I’m trying to figure out how much of it matches up with what I’ve seen so far. Let’s switch gears and go a little further back than we have.”

  “I don’t want to talk about The Fed.”

  “I didn’t say we would. Let’s talk about your congressional career.”

  Fucking Christ. Natalie didn’t want to talk about legislation or Caroline’s campaign history. That was a veiled reference to something else. “You mean, what happened at the tail end. I don’t want to talk about Jack.”

  “I don’t mean your relationship with Jack. Let’s talk about what happened at the Visitor’s Center.”

  The act she could never escape. She’d throw Natalie a bone. Anything to avoid talking about Jack, The Fed, or even Chrissy. It gave her an opportunity to vent. “You’re just like all the others, building me up for something that wasn’t a big deal. I got all this attention after I got shot and I still don’t understand it.”