by A. J. Quinn
After years of living in navy housing abroad or in cramped, noisy quarters on an aircraft carrier, Evan felt a wave of pleasure as she stepped inside the huge, open-concept space that made up the lower level of the house. Looking around slowly, she tried to take in all the changes Tate had made—changes from the one time she’d seen and fallen in love with the house.
The huge stone fireplace, soaring beamed ceilings, and gleaming hardwood floors were exactly as she remembered. So were the majestic views visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the wide expanse of island-dotted water that stretched beyond forever.
But gone was the clutter of the previous owner which had threatened to overwhelm the beauty of this particular island home. In its place, Tate had created clean open spaces. She had painted the walls a soft cream and utilized beautiful handcrafted tables Evan recognized instantly as Nick’s work and colorful art produced by the local Suquamish Tribe to give the home life.
“Absolutely amazing.” Her mouth curved into a wistful smile. “You’ve made this place every bit as beautiful as I had imagined it could be.”
“Thanks.” Struck by the note of pleasure in Evan’s voice and the soft light in her eyes, Tate slowly exhaled as she continued into the kitchen. Until that very moment, she hadn’t realized how important Evan’s reaction to her home had been. Her heart was still beating a little too fast, but the tension which had been building inside her began to slowly recede.
“As soon as I put the food away, I’ll give you the nickel tour and we can get you settled. Wait until you see the main bathroom. It’s the only room I’ve completely remodeled so far and it’s now got a giant whirlpool tub that can comfortably accommodate small groups.” She laughed softly at the images that entered unbidden into her head. “And then I hope you’re hungry. I thought I might grill salmon with some vegetables, and I have a nice Pinot Noir to go with it.”
When Evan failed to respond, Tate retraced her steps to the living room, where she found Evan looking inexplicably pale and shaken, leaning heavily on her crutches. Her eyes were distant and wide, her mouth slightly open, and Tate could hear her shaky breaths. She stopped short so as not to startle her.
“Evan?” she called softly. “Is everything all right? Did you overdo it? Are you in pain?” When Evan still didn’t answer, Tate moved closer, touched a hand to her shoulder. Evan shrugged it off, tried to move away, but Tate persisted. “What is it, love? Tell me what just happened.”
The silence stretched before finally Evan responded, her voice reed thin. “I was just standing here, enjoying the view. I was thinking about how I would have bought this place if I hadn’t been shot down, but it was still okay because we both wound up here anyway.”
She stopped, plucked at her crutches. “And then, I don’t know. Suddenly, it was like I was back there on that godforsaken mountain in Afghanistan, cold and bleeding. I could hear Khalid talking…just before he cut me the first time.”
“What did he say?”
“He said—” Evan closed her eyes, swallowed. “He said I would consider myself lucky if I died before he finished with me.”
Tate hurt for her and knew there were no easy answers. “You’re going to have to believe me when I tell you what you’re experiencing is normal. Give yourself time to heal.”
“But that’s just it. I’m not sure how much time I have. I know I sound crazy, but Khalid’s still out there. He’s still coming, and I don’t know how much time he’ll give me.”
Tate watched Evan turn away, her shoulders slumped. Damn Khalid. Experimentally, she rested her hand lightly on Evan’s shoulder and waited to see if she would pull away again. When she didn’t, Tate felt a wave of relief. “Evan, listen to me. No one’s going to hurt you again. If Khalid comes here, we’ll be ready for him. I need you to believe me.”
Evan took a deep, uneven breath. “I’ll try.”
Tate gave the tense shoulder under her hand a gentle squeeze. “We’re going to work through this. And if you remember, you promised Kelsey you would contact her partner once you were settled. So why don’t we concentrate on getting you settled?”
Accepting they’d gone as far as they were going to for the time being, Tate picked up her suitcase and Evan’s backpack off the floor. “The master bedroom’s on the main floor. And that’s a good thing since I’m guessing it’ll be a while before you can manage the stairs.”
Dropping the luggage just inside the room, she rubbed at the headache that suddenly seemed to have laid siege behind her eyes. She started to back away when Evan’s hand caught hers in a surprising show of gentle strength. Leaning precariously on her crutches, Evan drew her closer.
“I’m sorry,” she said against Tate’s cheek, her voice soft and husky. “Are you sure you’re still okay with this?”
“I want to do what’s best for you. I’m just not sure what it is.”
She knew she should move away. Create some distance. But she continued to stay where she was for a few seconds longer, perversely enjoying having Evan’s body pressed tightly against her own.
“You’re what’s best for me.” Feeling the intensity of Tate’s scrutiny, Evan remained quiescent, almost not daring to move. Everything that had happened to her was still too close, too raw. It still lived and breathed in her nightmares.
She thought about the cuts on her body and the conversation that still needed to happen before they could begin to move forward with their interrupted lives. And if she was honest with herself, she was afraid of how Tate might react. “This is what I was trying to tell you in Germany.”
“What’s that?”
“That I don’t have a clue how to deal with anything that’s going on in my head. In my life. With how I’m feeling from one moment to the next. I guess I haven’t dealt with it well. Obviously I’m making things difficult for you and I don’t mean to. I don’t think I’m very good around people right now.”
Tate’s smile was sad. “But you and I—we’re not just people, are we?”
Evan shook her head. “No, we’re not. But right now, I need to know I can trust myself not to shatter into a thousand pieces every time I see something or hear something that reminds me of Khalid…of Afghanistan…and I can’t.”
She paused again, only this time she leaned in closer and pressed a searing kiss against Tate’s soft lips, their texture and taste reminding her all too briefly of what had been. “I know I’m making a total mess of this and I don’t mean to. But I need to work through some things. So perhaps it would be better if you just let me go.”
“Oh, love, I can’t do that,” Tate whispered. “Ask me anything but that. Just tell me how I can help.”
Evan shrugged helplessly. “I’m not sure. All I know is when I’m with you I feel safe, and without sounding totally needy and self-absorbed, the truth is I’d rather find my way with your help. With you beside me. But there are things I haven’t worked through yet, things I don’t fully understand myself, let alone how to explain them.”
“Take your time. There’s no hurry.”
“I will—I have no choice. But can you handle this?”
“Yes,” Tate said. “Don’t you know I’m here for you, love? I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here with friendship and caring and support and whatever else you may want or need to help get you through this. All I ask in return is that you don’t shut me out. That you tell me what you want.”
“Thank you.”
Tate brushed her lips against Evan’s and smiled. “You have nothing to thank me for. I’m just doing what feels right—in here.” She placed her hand over her heart. “Now why don’t we get you unpacked?”
Evan closed her eyes tightly against the dull ache she was feeling, against the memories that were still too near the surface. “All right.”
“After we’re done in here, how about an early dinner?”
That got the slightest lift in the corners of her mouth. “You’re going to keep trying to feed me, aren’t you?”<
br />
“Damn straight.”
*
Evan leaned back in one of the Adirondack chairs on the deck, listening to the ocean and the shorebirds while watching as the sun began sinking low. It was a beautiful evening. The breeze had picked up, causing the wind chimes that hung from the eaves to dance and whisper. Stretching her long legs and propping them up on the railing, a suddenly carefree feeling made her smile.
There was soft music coming from the stereo speakers, she had a glass of wine in her hand, and fresh air, rich with the scent of pine and the sea, was gently brushing over her face. Three things she thoroughly enjoyed, all of which had been missing from her life for too long. And when she factored in the beautiful woman standing less than ten feet away, life didn’t get much better than this.
“What did you say you were going to feed me?” she asked.
Standing in front of a giant barbecue, Tate glanced up and sent her a smile. “I’m grilling salmon and asparagus, and I made some wild rice to go with it. Why, are you trying to tell me you’re actually hungry?”
“My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.” Evan grinned and continued to watch Tate work, her hands moving quickly and efficiently with a skill she quite possibly would never acquire. She paused in midthought to admire Tate’s long, slender legs, highlighted at that moment by the slanting rays of the sun. She lingered for an extra moment or two, marveling at the sweet heart-shaped derriere she knew lay just beneath the soft khaki shorts, before working her way up Tate’s slim torso.
It wasn’t until she reached her face that she realized Tate had been aware of her scrutiny all along, and she felt herself blush like a schoolgirl.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were just cruising my ass,” Tate teased.
“You’d be right,” Evan admitted sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help enjoying the scenery.”
“It’s really all right, Evan. Trust me, I don’t mind. In fact, I think I’m flattered.”
Evan shook her head wryly and tried to stifle a laugh before she shrugged and gave in to it. “I think I spent too much time in the mountains, away from civilization. I’ve lost whatever finesse I may have once possessed.” She paused and tossed another grin in Tate’s direction. “Although you have to admit, it’s a mighty fine ass.”
It was Tate’s turn to laugh. “It’s nice to know you still appreciate it.”
Evan arched a brow. “Oh, I appreciate it. Never doubt that,” she said, the husky tone in her voice becoming more pronounced.
Tate took a moment to enjoy the relaxed posture of Evan’s body, and the fact that her lips were curved into a sexy, disarming smile. She didn’t let on that she was surprised at finding Evan more than happy to flirt with her. Because this was good. Very good. She’d missed seeing Evan’s smile, hearing the sound of her laugh. And she looked like a dream with her silky black hair tousled around her face and her eyes clear and shining.
Their laughter set the tone for the evening. Determined to keep their conversation from veering into anything that might dim Evan’s spirits, Tate ensured the subjects were light and was able to keep Evan distracted. Or at least, Evan allowed herself to be distracted while they sat on the deck and watched as night descended.
The shadows lengthened then disappeared, melting into the darkness, and it was nearly midnight by the time they decided to call it a night. By then, Evan had probably consumed one glass of wine too many and her mood had become subdued. But it had still been a very enjoyable evening. A good start.
Tugging Evan to her feet, Tate decided to forgo the crutches. Instead, she suggested Evan lean on her. She teetered and happily complied. But that was no surprise. Tate knew she hated the crutches and would be grateful for any opportunity where she didn’t have to use them.
“What about all of this?” Evan indicated vaguely at their wine glasses and the coffee cups still on the table.
“I’ll come back and deal with it once I get you settled.”
Evan looked as if she was about to argue, but then shrugged tiredly. “Okay.”
Helping her into the bathroom, Tate unwrapped a new toothbrush and left Evan leaning against the double sink with instructions to wait for her before attempting to get into bed on her own.
Returning to the deck, Tate finished gathering their remaining dishes, filled the dishwasher, then locked the doors and activated the alarm before making her way back to the bedroom. She only half expected to find Evan waiting in the bathroom, so she wasn’t surprised to see her curled under the wedding-ring quilt in the middle of the four-poster bed.
“Sorry, I didn’t wait for you,” Evan mumbled, her voice husky and sleepy. She lifted one eyelid and gave Tate a glimmer of an unrepentant smile. “But I was fading fast, and I figured since it wasn’t that far, I could make it just fine on my own.”
Tate shook her head with affection and smiled. “Obviously your leg’s getting better. But try to remember I’m just down the hall and promise you’ll call me if there’s anything you need.”
“Okay.” Evan nodded drowsily and burrowed deeper into the bed. “You know I could get used to this. So easily.”
“That’s the idea, love,” Tate murmured softly. “Welcome back, Evan. Welcome home.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Tate’s words continued to echo as Evan lay in the darkness, more relaxed than she could remember feeling at any time in the recent past.
She had loved her life on board the Nimitz. But the noise level could be bone jarring and the continuous cycle of launch and recovery made it difficult to think, let alone sleep. With each launch, the catapult sounded like a cannon going off, while landing aircraft came in with engines at maximum power.
In the hospital too, the air had been filled with constant sounds. Helicopters routinely took off and landed on the helipad, monitors beeped, pagers went off. The ever-present hum of people’s voices, talking softly in the corridors.
As for Afghanistan…well, there was nothing peaceful about her time there.
And now—now Evan was looking forward to sleeping to the gentle song of the water lapping against the deck pilings. She just didn’t want to dream.
She deluded herself into thinking she was too tired to dream. And that Tate’s presence nearby would keep the dreams at bay. She should have known better. As she willed herself to sleep, the dreams drifted around her. She could feel them. Couldn’t stop them.
She could hear him coming.
Please, no.
And then he was there.
Khalid stood over her. He moved closer, so close she could feel his breath against her skin and his face filled her vision.
He swung out in an almost lazy arc, his fist slamming against her. Hitting her with a blow that sent her sprawling. Swimming in and out of focus, he leaned over her, smiling as he pulled out his knife. Laughing as he began to cut her. Each time daring her to cry out.
Almost instantly, her world turned red and filled with pain.
Evan lost all sense of time. She was trapped, smothered by the heat and darkness. The smell of her own blood was all around her, the air so thick with it she could no longer breathe, while the pain stole her ability to think. All she could do was feel.
Feel the pain and know she was going to die at the hands of a sadistic monster.
She accepted the knowledge there was nothing she could do to alter her fate. But she was damned well not going to give him the pleasure of hearing her scream. At least she could deprive him of that.
“I want to hear you, Commander. Do I need to remind you? If you cease to entertain me,” he said, bringing the knife up to her throat, “you will leave me with no alternative but to finish you now. And that would be a shame, don’t you think?”
At least then it would finally be over, she thought, as she began free-falling into the darkness.
*
Tate came awake instantly to the sounds of screams. They were anguished, tormented screams that shattered the stillness of t
he night, and it took a moment for her to fully understand they were being ripped from Evan’s throat.
For seconds, she couldn’t move. And then she was stumbling from her bed, her heart hammering fiercely in her chest as she fumbled with a light switch and ran to the master bedroom.
In the light from the hallway, she could see Evan tangled in the bedding and automatically reached out. The chill of Evan’s skin shocked her. “It’s all right, Evan. It’s just a dream,” she whispered repeatedly. “You’re all right.”
Whispering reassurances had worked in Germany. It didn’t work this time.
Evan didn’t seem to hear her. She screamed again, snarling and twisting frantically, and came up swinging. Releasing a low, feral growl she used her nails, slashing and raking Tate’s arm, and as she swung out, her fist connected solidly with Tate’s jaw.
Momentarily stunned by the strength of the blow belied by Evan’s weakened appearance, Tate found it impossible to hold on to her while trying to protect herself from further damage. She managed to move her head aside and avoided the follow-up swing, taking it instead on her right shoulder.
Her arm became instantly numb. Abandoning any further attempt to hold Evan, Tate scrambled to avoid another strike, dodging a flailing elbow as she landed hard on the floor.
Evan immediately retreated to the corner of the bed, crouched into a defensive position. She released a cry that sounded more animal than human and wrapped her arms around herself while staring at Tate with wild, unseeing eyes.
“Evan, it’s all right. You were dreaming. You’re safe now. It was only a dream.”
Keeping her distance, Tate carefully repeated variations of the words, telling Evan over and over again she was safe. She whispered phrases meant to calm and reassure. Phrases meant to drive away the darkness that held her in its grip. In a struggle not to reach for her, she clenched her hands into fists. Anything to keep from touching her.