For Honor - Sweet Version

by Jeannette Winters

  He went to his bedroom, grabbed a clean T-shirt, and headed for the bathroom. As soon as he lifted his shirt, he saw a small red stain on the outside of the white gauze covering his injury. I didn’t freaking need this right now.

  Slowly he pulled off the tape holding it in place. Then he grabbed some antiseptic and wiped the area. The bleeding had stopped, but he knew he couldn’t afford to be so foolish again. Once it was properly treated and covered, he headed back to the kitchen.

  Rafe anticipated Deanna needing his help, but he was far from prepared for the sight that greeted him. She was wearing not just one, but it looked like two, pairs of oven mitts and was bent over with a pair of cooking tongs.

  “What are you doing?” Rafe asked.

  She stood up and pointed to all four lobsters, which were on the floor moving around. Deanna had even removed the rubber bands that kept their claws closed.

  “I can’t catch them,” she said.

  Rafe shook his head, not sure if his mind was playing tricks on him. All four lobsters were taking off in different directions. This has to be a joke. “How did they get on the floor in the first place?”

  Deanna shrugged. “Well, when I picked them up with the tongs, they wiggled before I could get them over to the pot and fell on the floor.”

  “So just pick them up and wash them off, then in the pot they go.” There wasn’t anything difficult about it.

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Can’t what?”

  “I can’t put them in the pot. They’re . . . alive. They’re looking at me.” Her voice sounded as though she really was troubled by it.

  “I thought you liked lobster.”

  “I do. But mine comes cooked.”

  Rafe chuckled. “Would you like me to cook these?”

  Once again Deanna shook her head.

  “No? Then what would you like me to do with them?”

  Deanna raised her oven mitt-covered hand and pointed at the door leading to the deck.

  “Cook them on the grill?” Rafe asked.

  “No! That’d be even worse. I want you to put them back in the ocean.”

  That did it. Rafe started laughing so hard he thought for sure he’d rip the remaining stitches out. “You’re joking. You want me to . . . set them . . . free?”

  Deanna pointed the tongs in Rafe’s direction and angrily said, “If you don’t, you better be prepared to go without bathing for a while, because these guys are going to be moving into your tub.”

  Rafe looked at her, waiting for the moment she’d stop this charade and tell him it was all a joke. But that moment wasn’t coming. She was dead serious and actually standing just a few feet away, trying to threaten him with a kitchen utensil. She obviously had no clue about the evil jerks he faced out in the field. If they were as cute as you, I might actually have to start worrying I’ll lose my battles.

  “And what are we going to eat for lunch, if I do as you ask?” I know what I’d like to have. He still hadn’t forgotten how she’d looked at him as they briefly touched in his room. It’d be so easy to pull her into his arms, kiss her, but that wasn’t a path he was willing to go down with her. She was . . . this thing between them was . . . complicated. There were many things he’d done in the past to obtain the intel he wanted, but flirting with Deanna wasn’t going to be one of them.

  “I’ll order . . . pizza.”

  He knew he was the one who’d brought up food, but he’d changed his mind. Right now he was torn between hauling her into his arms or cuffing her to a chair and interrogating the heck out of her. She really has no idea what a dangerous game she’s playing. I win. I always do.

  There was no doubt that her being here was a stupid idea. He’d be the first one to tell any of his men to get their head out of their tails and focus. But right now, at that moment, the expression, the defiance, her pure innocence as she challenged him . . . he knew there wasn’t any place he wanted her to be but with him.

  “You call, and I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?” Deanna asked, her foot tapping on the floor.

  Darn you’re cute as a button when you’re mad. He could only imagine how hot that sweet temper of hers was if she didn’t get her way. Bending down, Rafe snatched up all four lobsters, two in each hand and said, “I guess to the beach.”

  Chapter 13

  Deanna had lain awake all night, afraid if she closed her eyes she’d wake and find it’d been a dream. Although it wasn’t the hot and steamy night of a romance novel, it was diary material. Too bad I stopped writing in one.

  Once she started to live a life of lies, there wasn’t anything she felt worth remembering. Each day was only more of the same, a life she wanted to forget. For the first time in what seemed like ages, Deanna didn’t want to forget.

  She’d thought she and Rafe would’ve been at odds all day, but when he’d returned from the beach, he’d calmed down, and they’d actually sat and talked civilly. She’d done most of the talking, but he seemed to take it all in. Or hope I’d eventually shut up.

  But today was a new day, and she’d made a decision she hoped didn’t bite her in the butt. She’d been waiting for Rafe to come out of his room, but he hadn’t made an appearance yet. Deanna was going to lose her nerve if that didn’t happen soon.

  She went to take another sip of her coffee only to find it empty. Since she was getting up anyway, why shouldn’t she pour Rafe a cup and take it to him? Yes, he’s in bed, but I’m supposed to be taking care of him.

  She chuckled to herself. It was funny how she was trying to rationalize why she was going to his room. He didn’t need anyone nursing him back to health. Rafe may have gotten shot, but he probably still could outmaneuver and fight off any intruder better than most. If anything, he was taking care of her.

  They both seemed to know it too, and she found that frustrating. Why couldn’t they clear the air and enjoy their time together? Was it really that difficult? I guess it’s all on me.

  With two coffees in hand, she headed for his bedroom. She couldn’t knock because her hands were otherwise occupied, so she decided to tap it with her foot. What she hadn’t noticed was it hadn’t been closed all the way, and even though she barely tapped it, it was plenty to open it completely.

  Deanna half expected to find Rafe lying in bed fast asleep. His bed was not just vacant but made, as though it’d never been slept in. She scanned the room, and there was no sign he’d ever been there. Did he leave and not even say goodbye?

  She knew she should turn around and walk right back out that door. Yet somehow, one foot after another took her deeper into his room until she was sitting on his bed. Placing his coffee mug on the bedside table, she held hers on her lap. He’s really gone. That explained why the house was so quiet. She should be happy. It was what she’d asked for, but it wasn’t what she wanted. Not anymore.

  She ran her hand over the bed cover. I made my bed, and now I get to lie in it. She’d always hated that saying, but never as much as she did now. She was sitting in a room with her only company the lingering scent of his cologne. It made her feel more alone than she’d ever felt before.

  It was all catching up with her. All the lying and deceit had come between everyone she’d cared about. It ticked her off to realize Rafe had fallen into that category. She didn’t have to get in that taxi when Gabe called. And when she found out Rafe was at his house, there was no reason she stayed except because she wanted to. That’s why his leaving hurt. No one seemed to know what was going on inside her heart and soul. That’s because I’ve done such a darn good job at hiding it, there’s nothing left for people to like.

  Deanna put her cup on the nightstand by his, then lay back on his bed. So what if she ruffled it a little; she could smooth it out when she got up. Besides, she was exhausted. It’d been foolish staying up all night thinking of Rafe. Reliving the enjoyable conversation and hoping for more. The reality was, there wasn’t any more. And never will be.

&
nbsp; But a girl had a right to dream. Closing her eyes, she could almost feel the ocean breeze blowing her long brown hair off her shoulders and whipping it in the air. The warm sand felt blissful between her toes as she walked on the beach. Far off in the distance seagulls soared high in the sky with such abandoned freedom she was almost jealous.

  Looking out over the horizon, all she could see was the vast ocean glistening ahead of her, not a sailboat in sight. Turning to the left there was only sandy beach, then to the right, the same.

  Looking up again, even the seagulls had left her. Hot tears ran down her face as she realized how alone she was. What was the point of it all if this was how it would be? Dropping down to her knees, she buried her face in her hands. I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much to do alone. I can’t lie anymore.

  She couldn’t stop the gut-wrenching sobs. Deanna was paying a price that wasn’t hers to pay. What had she done? Her only crime had been to live. And what has happened since surely didn’t represent true life. She felt more like a robot barely going through the motions.

  The roar of the waves became deafening as she felt the force of them knock her over. There was no fight left in her. No struggle to break free. They held tightly with a harsh grasp, and she knew it’d soon be over. The lies, hiding the pain. It could all die with her.

  Why did I volunteer to go for water? If I hadn’t, I could be with you, Phoebe. I should’ve died with you!

  “No, you shouldn’t have.”

  I can’t stand lying anymore. I don’t care what you do to me. I just don’t want them to hurt my family. And if I’m gone, you can’t.

  “Honey, wake up. You’re not going to die, and no one is going to hurt your family. I promise you.”

  The ocean disappeared and what felt like crushing waves drowning her, now seemed to be comforting arms holding her gently. “You can’t. No one can.”

  “Deanna, look at me. I can. All you have to do is trust me.”

  She had to be dreaming because he was gone. Yet, Rafe’s voice was filled with tenderness. If she was dreaming, she didn’t want to wake. The ugly reality would come slamming into her once again, and she couldn’t bear it. “No more lies.”

  “There don’t have to be. You can trust me, Deanna. Just open your eyes, and you’ll see. It’ll be okay. I promise you.”

  Deanna reached her hand up and gripped his arm. It felt as real as his voice sounded. Slowly she opened her tear-filled eyes. Even through blurred vision, she could tell it was true, Rafe was there holding her.

  “What . . . what are you doing here?” Deanna stammered, overwhelmed with mixed emotions.

  “Honey, I live here remember?” Rafe answered softly.

  Oh, she knew that because he’d reminded her enough times. “I mean why . . . why did you come back?”

  Rafe looked puzzled as he brushed away a stray hair that clung to her tear-streaked cheeks. “I never left.”

  “But you were—”

  “Out for a jog.”

  Panic filled her. “Rafe you shouldn’t. You’re not well. You should be—”

  He placed a finger across her lips, and said, “Deanna, I’m okay. It’s you I’m worried about. The things you said, weren’t . . . good.”

  What things? She’d been dreaming. He was darn good at reading her, but how could he read her private thoughts? If anyone could, it’d be Rafe. Deanna would ask what he was talking about, but his finger wasn’t leaving her mouth.

  “Tell me what has you so scared that you feel you need to protect your family, above protecting yourself?” Rafe asked, then slowly removed his hand but continued to hold her.

  He really did hear me? Deanna didn’t think she talked in her sleep. But stress ran havoc on a person, and she definitely was under stress. Everyone had their breaking point. Was her dream telling her she was at hers? For years she’d been haunted by what had happened and riddled with guilt for being a coward for never saying anything. Sitting here with Rafe was her opportunity to spill it all. What domino effect will it have?

  “You have no idea how badly I want to tell you.”

  “Then tell me, Deanna. I can’t help if you don’t.”

  “Rafe, I’m not sure you can even if I do. You don’t understand. No one does. This nightmare isn’t just about me. My family will be . . . well, nothing will be the same again.”

  Rafe loosened his hold on her. “Nothing is the same. We’ve all learned that, haven’t we?” Deanna nodded. “Eventually you have to trust someone. Whatever it is, I can help. Protection is what I do.”

  “Not from these guys.” She wasn’t even sure who they were. All she knew was everyone in Moreira that day had been killed, and no one knew why.

  “Tell me everything, and I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “Promise is a mighty big word.”

  Rafe looked away for a minute then turned back to her. “I promise.”

  There was something about the way he was looking at her. He unquestionably meant it. She could trust him, and he wasn’t going to let her down. But what she was about to say wouldn’t be pretty. I’ll be glad to speak it out loud. Maybe then I can start to heal.

  “I’m not honestly sure how to tell you this. It’s hard to say, and I’m sure it’s going to be even more difficult for you to hear.”

  “There’s not much that shocks me.”

  “I was there and thinking about it . . . it still—”

  “Deanna, look at me.” She did as he asked, then he continued. “Don’t visualize it. Just say it.”

  She took a deep breath and started from where it all began. “There’s very little you know about that day that is accurate. The only truth is I was the only survivor.” Rafe didn’t say a word, so she moved on, telling him everything from how she heard the gunfire and hid to what happened when she entered the camp to find all the men murdered.

  His darkening eyes were the only sign that he was hearing what she was telling him. She knew that would intensify as she told him every detail about what happened to the women.

  Deanna saw Rafe’s jaw tense as she delivered the news about Phoebe being alive for a week after the first attack. She only knew the length of time between the men being killed and the women because her captive’s made sure to use that fact to instill even more fear into her. It had worked, not that she needed an additional push.

  “And you kept this information private why?”

  “At first I didn’t. When so-called help finally arrived, I told them everything exactly as it happened. But they didn’t want the truth. The local authorities, if you want to consider them anything more than leaders with guns, held me there for days and fed me what the world believes to be real.”

  “Held you? In what way?”

  She swallowed, fighting back the tears. Just tell the facts. Don’t feel it. “I was held against my will and . . . beaten each time I said anything that even appeared to be the truth. After a few days, I didn’t care anymore. But the authorities refused to let me go until I promised never to share what truly happened. They told me if I ever told a living soul, my family would be lucky if the only thing they suffered was the same fate as everyone at the camp.”

  Deanna mourned for each and every single one who had lost their lives at the hand of those vicious men. When she questioned the authorities about bringing them to justice for their crimes, they made it clear to her it was someone back in the United States who’d decide their fates, no different than they did hers. She’d often wondered if the authorities were the ones who’d committed the horrendous attack and murders in the first place. They obviously weren’t above such actions and hadn’t seemed concerned such offenses had taken place. That’s when she knew she could never break her silence.

  Rafe got up and ran his hand through his hair. She’d just delivered a boatload of information that was going to take him time to process. Even three years later she still hadn’t. When he sat back down, he asked her an odd question.

  “Do you
remember a woman named Abby there?”

  Deanna thought for sure he’d be asking specifics about Phoebe. She wasn’t exactly sure what reaction Rafe should’ve had to hearing all this. Maybe this is his way of dealing with it. Talk about anyone but the one person he’d lost there. “I do. She was killed with the other women. Why?”

  “Was there anything . . . different about her that day or in the days leading up to the attack?”

  “Phoebe?”

  Rafe shook his head. “No, Abby.”

  Deanna struggled, trying to remember anything that might have been odd. But the truth was, everything about Abby had been different. It wasn’t her personality because she was sweet as could be. But there was something different about her, and everyone knew it. Like there was a secret hidden deep inside her. One Abby didn’t want to admit even to herself. But that could be said about everyone. Look at me I’m full of secrets. Horrible, cruel ones.

  She wanted to get Rafe back on track about what she was trying to tell him. Maybe she’d told him enough, and that’s why he was going down this path about Abby. What she wanted was to hear how he was going to protect her family with all this new-found information.

  “Don’t you want to talk more about Phoebe?”

  “Yes, but right now I need to know everything you can remember about Abby. Trust me, it’s important, or at least I think it is.”

  Belief and trust were things she struggled with, yet something deep within her knew these were what both she and Rafe needed most of all right now. “Abby was there for the same reason we all were. I would have to say her life was all about making a difference in Moreira. I heard Abby having a few words with someone over the treatment of the young girls.”

  “Was that common?”

  There was a strict policy of not getting involved in personal family issues with the locals. They were there only to bring education to women and children. They were not even allowed to enter the villages to speak to them. It made doing their job difficult, as they were required to stay in the camp and hope people came to them.