“No, Gia, don’t go. I’m sorry. It’s just a lot for me to take in.”
“I know it is, but I have to go anyway. I’m not feeling too well.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
Nothing she could tell her mother about. It wasn’t that she felt unwell, per se. It was that she was tired. More than that, exhausted. With Lexi, from the first day she’d learned she was carrying to a week or so before she’d gone into labor when sleep had come in short bouts broken by horrendous backaches, she’d napped every single afternoon. It was the only way she’d gotten through it. The extra sleep had stopped her from being a nightmare to live with.
“I’m okay, but I’m feeling a little under the weather. I’ll take some Tylenol or something. It might clear up this headache I have.”
Sandra gnawed at her lip, catching and marring the smooth sheen of gloss, and Gia knew she hadn’t believed a word her daughter had said. “Okay, well, try to catch some sleep. It will make you feel better. I’ll call you tomorrow, all right, sweetheart?”
Gia nodded. “I will. You know me. My schedule is free at the moment.”
“I hope you have some good news for me when we talk tomorrow.”
Gia had explained about the appeal process with Luke, but she’d left out the charges he’d been suspended over. It was hard enough trying to get her mother on their side without adding fat to the fire. “I hope so too, although it’s early days. Take care, Mama. Have a nice evening.”
“I will, love. You do too.” Sandra blew her a kiss, and as was their way, Gia caught it and pressed her fist to her heart. Sandra cut off, leaving Gia staring at the control panel of her video-call program.
Weariness had overcome her, almost as though the lie had triggered it. She was exhausted, even though she’d been doing nothing over the last couple of days. Used to a busier life, her sudden change of pace certainly came as a culture shock.
She’d set up her laptop on the small, rickety table that filled one corner of the room. The main wall held the bed and some old-fashioned cane bedside tables, as well as two questionable lamps. A moss-green chintz sofa sat underneath the window, which let in a dull light, be it the brightest part of the day or the darkest, and a TV sat opposite the bed with a print of Van Gogh’s Starry Night above it.
Gia had set up the desk as her workstation for the interim, and while she’d thought to further explore the city, the desire to get up and get showered was beyond her at the moment. This morning, she’d awoken, shrugged into a bathrobe, then slouched to the laptop, where she’d been working for the past two hours until her mom had called and broken up her writing day.
Lafayette held no interest. She’d tried and failed to look around, only going to the kids’ museum so as not to break her word to Lexi, but after that, she’d been holed up here. The one advantage to it was her productivity levels had shot through the roof. And after the past two months of stagnation, of hitting not a single one of her targets, it came as a relief to have one part of her life under control.
She backed up her manuscript, switched off her laptop, and then walked the few steps to the bed. It took a handful of moments to snuggle beneath the covers and less time to fall asleep. The sound of the bubbling ringtone of a video call awoke her. She was sleep warm and a little flustered, but she grabbed her cell and connected the call.
Squinting at the screen, she murmured, “Hey, sweetheart,” at the sight of her little girl’s face. Considering Lexi was alone, that meant she’d managed to pocket one of her daddies’ cells, somehow work out the passcode, and connect to her.
Problem was, Gia was far too tired to chide her. She’d already warned Luke about changing his PIN, and Josh should know better, considering she was certain he worked in intelligence.
If a five-year-old could crack their codes, well, hell, it didn’t say much, did it?
“Hey, Mommy. Are you in bed?”
She rolled onto her side and set the cell phone a few inches away, resting it against a pillow so she could go hands-free. “I am. I was sleepy.”
“But it’s daytime.”
“I know. Remember when you were really little and you used to sleep in the afternoon?”
Lexi pulled a face, then pursed her lips as she tried to think back to the eons past that was last year. “I guess.”
“You used to have a sleep every day until you had to go to school. You loved naptime. Well, so does mommy. Only, don’t tell your daddies.”
Lexi scowled, apparently not liking the idea. “Why not?”
Gia huffed. “How about we do a deal, sugar? I promise not to tell them you sneaked one of their phones and managed to get through their password again if you won’t tell them I was sleeping.” Gia never napped. Luke might put two and two together and come up with four, and the last thing she wanted him to worry about was whether she was pregnant or not. Now was not the time for this particular news item to crop up.
Lexi’s cheek pinkened with guilt. “Okay. Deal.”
“Good. Now, what’s up, love? You doing okay?”
“I miss you, Mommy. When are you coming home?”
It made her heart swell to hear that. She wasn’t one of those mothers who liked time apart from their children. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but having lived a handful of years without her own mother, she wanted to spend as much time as she could with her little girl. “I miss you too, baby. I’ll be home soon.”
“Are you being pampered? I’ll feel better if you are.” She took special care over the word “pampered.” It was a recent addition to her lexicon.
Gia eyed the dirtbag suite at the local motel and, with a wide smile, lied through her teeth. “Oh yep, that’s why I’m napping. I’m so relaxed. I just had a massage.”
“What’s a massage?”
“It’s when someone rubs your back. You know when you get allergies and you get those headaches?”
“And you rub my forehead?”
“Yep. Well, that’s a massage. Only it’s a little different for adults. People do it for fun, not only for allergies.”
“That’s silly,” Lexi remarked, wrinkling her nose.
“Well, it might be silly, but it sure felt good.” She squinted at the screen, rolling down the calendar to see the date. The second day of the appeal, and also, a Wednesday, the day they usually devoted to geography. “Has Nanna Lou been teaching you about the different climates in America?” That was two years ahead of schedule, but Lexi had already absorbed the first-grade stuff like a sponge slurped up whipped cream.
“Uh-huh.” She moved closer to the camera, so close Gia could see the pores in her skin and the crinkles in her lips as she whispered, “She’s not as good as you, Mommy.”
Gia grinned. “That’s why you’re missing me, huh?”
“Well,” Lexi considered, “I guess, but I miss you tucking me into bed at night and reading me a story and kissing me on the forehead before I go to sleep. Papa does it, but he doesn’t smell like you do.”
“How do I smell?”
Lexi shrugged. “I don’t know. Good. Like my mommy.”
“Oh.” For a second, Gia was speechless. It always came as a shock when Lexi said things like that. It was a reminder of how young she was, even if her brain was light years ahead. “Well, I’ll be home soon. And your daddies love being with you and tucking you in, so it’s good they get the chance to do it, don’t you think?”
She didn’t sound convinced. “I guess. They’re away from home an awful lot. Daddy more than usual.”
Lexi was used to Josh being at work, so what that comment meant, she wasn’t sure. Last night, she’d wanted to speak to them alone, to ask how the appeal had gone, but they’d made sure to keep Lexi with them at all times. That they needed a buffer didn’t bode well for how things had gone down on that first day of the appeal process.
At least, she thought it might mean all was not well with the case.
Sighing at the thought, she whispered, “They’re home now th
ough, aren’t they? Otherwise, how did you get their phone?”
Lexi nodded. “They came back a little while ago. They were angry.”
“They were shouting?”
“Uh-huh. I don’t like it when they shout.”
“I know you don’t, but it doesn’t happen often, does it?”
“Nope. I’m glad.”
“Me too. But all’s well, sweetheart. Sometimes adults raise their voice. It’s what we do.”
“Why?”
“Why not?” she replied. “When kids are at the park, they holler at each other, don’t they?”
“I guess, but I don’t like the park.” She crinkled her nose again.
“I thought you liked playing on the swings.”
“I do, but I…”
“But what?”
She fidgeted a second, then looked away from the camera and stared down at her hands. “I saw a boy with dirty pants sit on the swing seat, and then I thought about how many other boys and girls sit on the seat with dirty clothes on. I don’t want my pants to get dirty.”
Holy shit. Josh and his germophobe ways had a lot to answer for. Lexi had to be the only five-year-old in the country who’d bathe in hand sanitizer if she had the choice. “I thought you liked the dirt now. You’ve been gardening with Nanna Lou, haven’t you?” she asked cautiously. Trying to right this particular wrong was slow going and an epic process requiring a lot of patience.
“Yep. I like that, but I wear the right things now. I don’t have any clothes for the park.”
She didn’t have any clothes for gardening either. Trying not to roll her eyes and wondering exactly how Lexi itemized her wardrobe when she probably didn’t know what the word itemize even meant, Gia, ever practical, said, “We can buy you some clothes for the park.”
“But then they’d be new. I don’t want to waste my new, clean clothes at the park.”
“Then you can wear something old, and the new things can replace the old stuff. How about that?”
Lexi pondered that, then shot her a wide grin. Gia’s heart clutched at the sight of an empty space where a tooth had been but days ago. “That sounds good, Mommy.”
“I’m glad. When did you lose that tooth, sugar?”
She blinked, then fingered the gap. “The other day. Only the tooth fairy didn’t come, so I figured…”
Gia grimaced. She wanted to be mad at the guys for forgetting to put a goddamn dollar underneath Lexi’s pillow, but hell, they had a ton on their plates. Who was she to bitch? “I’m sure there’s a mistake. Even the tooth fairy has to have a break. I’ll tell you what. I’ll write her a letter. See if I can’t sort something out. Only, you know how slow the mail is, Lexi. It might take a while.”
“I can wait,” came the confident answer. “Nanna Lou says I’m really patient.”
She’d know. If anyone had patience, it was the woman who had to live with Luke’s father. Gia kept that to herself, though and, lips twitching at the smugness in her daughter’s voice, decided to give praise where praise was due. “I know you are. It’s a virtue.”
“What’s a virtue?”
Before Gia could damn herself for using a word Lexi didn’t know, the sound of heavy footfall came from the other room, and then the bitten off, “Where the hel-heck is my phone?”
Recognizing Josh’s mutter and the corrected curse, and knowing exactly what was about to happen, Gia whispered, “Bye, sweetheart.”
“Bye, Mommy,” came the quick retort, and the call was immediately disconnected.
Despite herself, Gia had to chuckle. God, she was going to be a handful. The older she got, the harder they’d have to work to corral her in. And crazy though it might be, Gia looked forward to it.
Placing a hand on her belly, she wondered what this child heralded. Another genius with an old head on their shoulders? Or a sports star? A green-fingered nature lover? Or a child who loved the written word?
A mixture of all its parents or none at all.
That was the beauty of these first months of pregnancy. The questions, the wonder. The potential.
Gia rolled onto her back and smiled at the ceiling. She spread her fingers out, encompassing her belly as much as she was able, and wondered what Luke’s child would look like.
It had to be Luke’s. She and Josh had made certain of it, and with dreams of a blond-haired, blue-eyed child, one without the swarthiness Lexi had inherited from both of her parents but with the fairness of a Puritan, she slept again, tumbling into a different world with ease.
Chapter Six
“You’re accusing Colonel Harrison, a decorated officer, of covering up his own crimes and casting the blame on yourself?”
How many times did he have to say it?
“Yes.”
That had to be the ninth. Either they weren’t listening, were totally ignoring what he had to say, or they were trying to ascertain if he was as audacious as they believed. Nine different ways of asking the same question, and he’d answered them all with that one-word affirmation.
They couldn’t play with his words then, couldn’t twist them or bend them to their own will.
This wasn’t his first rodeo.
Sure, it was the first time he’d been in this particular position, one where his honor was under question, but he knew how this worked. He’d been on the other side of situations like these, and he knew they were trying to worm their way under his skin.
Unfortunately, it was working.
He didn’t mind being questioned. He didn’t even mind being in the line of fire. No man was infallible, after all. But the way they were reviewing his case irked him. He could see that this supposedly fair review process would not have gone his way had Josh not gotten involved.
They weren’t interested in what he had to say. They were paraphrasing, reissuing the same questions, making the same demands with different words. They weren’t seeking new truths, simply looking to regurgitate old lies.
The room was set up like a business meeting; only this was the most important meeting of his life. At a long narrow table, three men sat. Their pins were polished to perfection. They had papers at their front and sides, two had tablets running, and another had a laptop. Every now and then, they’d peer down and read something from a screen, then look up and over at him as though he were bacteria on a petri dish. He was starting to feel as welcome as smallpox.
He and Josh were seated opposite the panel, and to their right, a stenographer took minutes. At their backs, there was a single row of mostly empty seats. Three of them were taken up by General Jarvis’s entourage; each looked industrious as they took notes of their own and did whatever tasks Josh’s CO had charged them with.
Luke could only suppose the big man would show up when it was time to play his part.
He’d never been more grateful that Josh had involved Jarvis and that his husband hadn’t let him fight this battle alone. The big guns would save his hide, and Luke knew he’d forever owe Josh for saving his ass.
The man at the center of the panel reviewed something on his tablet again, double dipping to reread something he’d only scanned moments before. As he did, he looked up, cocking a brow over his reading glasses to ask, “And what alleged crimes is Colonel Harrison supposed to have committed?”
“As far as I’m aware, this review board is to ascertain whether or not I am the guilty party. Whether I was properly and fairly discharged. It’s not for me to cast blame elsewhere. I’m stating, for the record, that I’m innocent of the crimes that have had me discharged from my rank.” His tone was sharp, but as he stared at the appeals board, three top-ranking officials, each po-faced and looking somber as shit, he felt a little less cocksure than earlier. “I’ve made statements, and I’m sure you have copies of them, explaining exactly what it is I’ve seen. But for the record, I was in the administrative offices, walking down the corridor at oh-nine-hundred hours, when I heard a woman crying and begging for help.
“The noises were coming from Colone
l Harrison’s office. I burst in and saw him sodomizing a young local girl. She was terrified, in agony, but still fighting him off. I watched as he hit her, bloodying her face as he smashed it into the desk. He was so deeply involved in what he was doing, he didn’t notice me barging in until I was pulling him off her.”
“Harrison completely denies these allegations,” the panelist on the right said in a low voice to the other two.
“Of course he does,” Luke snapped. “This is why I was discharged. I reported him and his behavior, as well as what I saw, but the very next day, everything was on its head. Instead of Harrison being the rapist, he’d sent out a formal report stating that I was. I sought out the girl, a woman I knew had been taken from a local village as the family had been under suspicion of being militia sympathizers, but she’d disappeared. All of her records had been deleted from the system, so according to our databases, she no longer existed. And yet I was being accused of raping and assaulting a prisoner—who was a ghost according to our systems. All of this can be verified.
“I was dragged back to the admin offices, where I was questioned and assaulted by the two MPs handling the case, and then, after they formally charged me and started the transferal process, our vehicle was attacked as we traveled across the sandbox.
“Whatever it is you have to say about me, I will tell you that Harrison isn’t the only corrupt official over there. If this appeal process does nothing else, I hope it makes you question those involved to see where their true loyalties lie, as they aren’t with the United States Armed Forces.”
“You’re fortunate you weren’t court-martialed,” the youngest man on the panel retorted, a snipe to his tone. That he’d completely disregarded half of what Luke had just said made him see red.
The room was as quiet as a library. The pressure of a dozen egos each battling the other was an impressive force. Luke knew he should keep quiet, so he bit his tongue, but the arrogance of the man facing him irritated the shit out of him.
Three officials, each dour, each judging him when he hadn’t done a damn thing wrong—hell, he couldn’t help it. The words tumbled out. “Court-martialed is one thing, but I consider myself even more fortunate not to be in jail. Doesn’t that tell you something, gentlemen? Doesn’t that trigger the tiniest question to pop up in your brains? Why, after what I’ve been accused of, am I not in jail? Why am I free to appeal my discharge?
The Strength of Love Page 7