Hardened by Steel

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Hardened by Steel Page 6

by J. B. Havens


  “Yes. I can imagine,” I spoke softly. I didn’t want to have this fucking conversation, but Aunt Beatrice was the one person in this world that I couldn’t get my way with. If she wanted to talk, we were going to talk.

  “I deserve to know why.” It was a statement and question rolled into one. The hurt that was laced into her voice caused me near physical pain.

  “I know. You’re right, you do. It’s not like it’s easy to explain, though. There is nothing simple about it.” I tried to find my anger, but couldn’t. The only thing I felt at the moment was intense regret. Not for what I did, but for what my actions had put her through.

  “Just start from the beginning, Bea; make me understand.” She took my hand and forced me to look at her. She knew this was painful for both of us. Time to rip off the band-aid.

  “You know I joined the Army to get away from him. It felt like the safest place for me to be. I would be gone halfway around the world and well beyond his reach.” I was choking on the words, but it was like a breaking dam. The words just flooded out, pushed by the back-pressure.

  “Two weeks into my scheduled deployment, I received a message. I don’t know how he managed to get it to me, but he did. He said that if I didn’t come back, he’d find me. He didn’t care if I was a solider now, he would put me in my place where I belonged. Stupidly, I believed him.” I clutched the pillow tighter, hugging it tight to my chest. “So instead of dealing with it, I volunteered to go on a mission in the field. It was supposed to be a routine patrol and we’d be delivering food and medical supplies to a village for the U.N. It was in an area that was getting hot, but we had my platoon and two others in the area. We thought it would be safe enough.” The memories were coming back in a rush, the sounds and smells assaulting me as if I was there. Aunt Beatrice squeezed my hand, anchoring me in the present.

  “It went to hell; we were betrayed by a local informant. He gave away our location. My commanding officer was killed in front of me, putting me in charge. I got my platoon out after two days of fighting and retreating. The other two units in reserve weren’t so lucky. They were wiped out. After I got back stateside, Jackson, my Master Sergeant, came to me with an idea. I would be the first member of Steel. He laid it all out for me; he told me that I would be declared legally dead. That you would be told I was killed in a training exercise. It broke my heart; but in the back of my head, I just kept seeing his message; that he would find me. I did it because then he would think I was dead, and I would be free.” I finally looked at her. Tears were streaming down her face in a steady tide. I had knowingly broken her heart. To save myself.

  “I’m glad you did it,” she said as she took my face in her hands. I was shocked beyond words. I had prepared myself for her censure and anger. I never expected compassion for my actions.

  “Why…” I was lost; I couldn’t form a thought or word.

  “My brother was an evil man. You were a light that he never deserved to have in his life. When your poor mama died, he went off the deep end. And you suffered for it. I only wish I had known sooner, then maybe I would have saved us both a lot of pain. You never deserved those terrible things he did to you; no child does. You escaped and learned to protect yourself. I commend you for it. You’re so brave and strong. That’s your mama in you. She was like you, fierce and bold.”

  “Where is he now?” I asked, trying to change the track of the conversation.

  “Dead.”

  “When?” Relief flooded through me at the news.

  “About a year ago. He wrapped his truck around a tree. He was trapped; they told me he died slowly.” She stood then, and paced around the room. He may have been an unbelievable bastard, but he was still her brother.

  “Good,” I said. Maybe I would go dance on his grave.

  “It’s over now, Bea.” She put her hand on the door knob.

  “It’s been over for a long time. I’m sorry you had to go through all of this.”

  “I’m not, because now I have you back. I’m not letting you go again, and you can tell your boss I said that.” She left my room, softly closing the door behind her.

  I believed her. There weren’t many people in this world that scared me, but Aunt Beatrice was one of them. When she put her mind to something, she was set, and there was no changing it. I couldn’t wait to see the confrontation between her and Jackson. It would be epic. I should sell tickets and popcorn. I’d need to get Flynn right on that.

  It was my turn to pace; I was keyed up on the news of my father’s death. His demise. His justice. His bite in the ass from karma. Fancy that, trapped and unable to move while he slowly died. Fitting death for the bastard. Quickly changing into running clothes, I went down to the track. I knew I wouldn’t sleep tonight; there was no point in even trying.

  ****

  Jordon stood with his back to the wall next to Mic’s room. He was floored by what he had just heard. Mic’s father abused her? She had never let on even for one second she’d been through something like that. Jordon was hurt and pissed the fuck off. Good thing that old bastard was dead or he would have been tracking him down and gutting him with a spoon.

  Why didn’t she tell him? Jordon knew about her occasional PTSD flashbacks and her insomnia. Why not tell him this? He didn’t know, but he was going to find out.

  He was poised to knock when he saw the knob turning, so he stepped back quickly and around a corner as he watched her leave the room in running gear. So she was going to go run from her feelings?

  Not this time, Bea…

  ****

  My feet were slapping against the track, making almost no noise. The vast empty room stretched around me. I hadn’t switched on more than the most necessary of lights. Strange shadows cast by my running form twisted around the room as I ran, changing shape and moving with my body. I didn’t count laps or listen to music, I just ran. I ran until my breath began to come faster and my heart slammed in my chest. I ran without grace or form, pushing my body to escape my mind. It was futile.

  Memories continued to assault me and I just let them come, I gave in, not fighting it anymore, I let them wash over me.

  The front door slammed and heavy staggering footsteps came down my hallway. It was late and he was drunk again. Today was Friday and he was always worse on paydays. Both because he got money, and because it was never enough. I hadn’t eaten today; the cupboards were bare again. I knew I would not eat this night or tomorrow.

  Boom! Boom! My door shook with the force he used to pound on it. I sat on my bed and waited. The door was unlocked, but he was too drunk to reason it out. Locking it never helped. He would just kick it in, and then I would be without a door at all. Finally he turned the knob and I watched him come in.

  I could smell the cheap whiskey from where I sat on my worn-out and threadbare bed. His bloodshot eyes found me waiting, which seemed to only enrage him more. I knew by now that no matter what I did, it would be the same. Hiding didn’t help, it just got me locked in the closet. I couldn’t stand the tight spaces anymore. Instead, I met him head on. I stood as he approached; even knowing what was coming I tensed, fear gripping me in a vicious hold.

  “You little bitch…,” he screamed as he raised his hand.

  A sound behind me jerked me back to the present. I didn’t think; I just reacted. Stopping quickly, I pivoted and kicked out without even looking to see what the threat was. My foot connected with a solid mass. I heard a loud grunt and it was then that I saw who was behind me.

  “Jordon?” I said, disbelieving. I was on the track. I was not at that house with that man. I forced my mind back to the present.

  “What the fuck, Mic?” Jordon shouted at me. I was not in the mood to be yelled at.

  “Don’t you fucking shout at me! Don’t sneak up on people and you won’t get kicked,” I shot back. My temper was rising and needed an outlet; as usual, Jordon was a convenient target.

  “I didn’t sneak! I said your name four times!” He advanced on me. He was incredibly
pissed.

  “What the hell are you so mad about?” His anger was disproportionate to the situation. I was missing something.

  “I overhead you talking to your aunt,” he said. I retreated a few steps until I realized what I was doing. I stopped and stood my ground, planting my feet both physically and mentally.

  “So, not only do you sneak up on people, you listen at doors. What next? You going to sit in a tree outside my window while I get undressed?”

  “Dammit, Bea! It’s not like that! How could you not tell me!?” He was just as angry now as the night we had tortured him.

  “Why? I don’t talk about it and I don’t fucking want to start now.” I turned my back on him and began to walk away. He grabbed my arm, trying to spin me around to face him. Dropping my weight, I spun on my heel and tried to foot sweep him. He saw it coming a mile away and ended matters quickly. He planted his shoulder into my stomach and swung me up and over.

  “Put me down Jordon! That’s an order!” I kicked for all I was worth, getting a few grunts for my efforts. It about as effective as kicking a tree.

  “Fuck your orders, Bea.” He marched off with me dangling over his shoulder. I had a perfect view of his ass. Making a fist, but popping the knuckle of my ring finger out into a point, I punched him in the nerve on the small of his back as hard as I could. His legs buckled and he dropped me with a yell. I landed in a heap, my legs tangled with his arms. To say that it was undignified was an understatement.

  He was kicking away from me, trying to get untangled. I was doing the same in the opposite direction. I got free and stood, but before I could run, he tackled me from behind. We hit the soft track with an explosion of air from my lungs. I was crushed beneath his considerable weight.

  “Get... off.” I shoved, but he didn’t move an inch. I hadn’t felt so physically ineffective in a very long time. I didn’t like it one damn bit.

  “Not fucking happening.” He let me up enough to spin me onto my back, but quickly dropped back down between my now spread thighs.

  Great, this just gets better and better.

  “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Balling up my fist, I moved to hit him, but he dodged it and grabbed my wrists. Slamming them down, he pinned them to the track beside my head.

  “Whatever I want it seems,” Jordon replied. I was pleased to note that he was breathing as hard as I was. Sweat dotted his forehead and ran down his temples. At least it wasn’t easy on him, either.

  “Get the fuck off me, Jordon. This isn’t funny.” I saw the intent in his eyes before he moved. “Jordon…” I barely got it out before his mouth crushed against mine.

  ****

  Pierce couldn’t sleep and when he passed Jones’s room, he could hear the TV with the volume down low. Apparently he wasn’t the only one still up. He’d changed and thought he’d go for a run, to try and tire himself out. It freaked him out to be underground. It wasn’t really too obvious that he was inside of the Earth, but it was a thought never too far from his mind.

  If pounding out a couple miles on the track helped him to sleep, he’d run until he collapsed if he needed to. Cardio was never a bad thing anyway.

  ****

  Jordon’s lips were as soft as I remembered; he tasted like coffee and Chris. Such an unlikely, but wonderful, combination. All thoughts of resisting him flew out of my head as soon as his tongue made entrance to my mouth and danced along mine.

  “Chris…,” I said, catching a breath finally, only to lose it when I saw the intensity of his gaze. His dark green eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, they burned with desire and another emotion I could not name.

  “Bea…please,” he gasped before kissing me again. He released my wrists finally and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and head, wrapped my legs around his waist, and held him tight against me. He overwhelmed my senses, his weight, his smell, his taste. I was spinning off my axis, unable to stop it even if I wanted to.

  His hand was hot against the skin of my stomach as he slid it up and under my shirt. Slowly... like he was memorizing the feel of my skin.

  “You’re so fucking soft, Bea,” Chris growled, finding his prize, crushing his lips back to mine. I ran my hand down his back, dragging my fingertips over his trim hip and then forward along his stomach, seeking my own prize. Our sighs and gasping breaths were the only sounds in the room, echoing back and all around us.

  “Well, this isn’t entirely unexpected.” We froze, not seeing the source of the voice, but recognizing it all the same. We didn’t need to see Pierce. Chris removed his hands from under my shirt, and sat up, pulling me with him. I’m sure I looked just like I felt, a flushed, excited woman who was kissed nearly to death.

  “Pierce.” It was all I could manage. Speech had yet to fully return. I smoothed my hands over my hair, trying to tame it into something normal instead of the sex-mussed hair I’m sure it resembled. Jordon quickly stood and pulled me up to stand beside him.

  “Mic. Jordon. It’s obvious what’s going on here. But the question remains, what should I do about it?” He strode into the light. He, too, was dressed for running. Apparently none of us could sleep.

  “There isn’t anything you need to do. This is between myself and Mic,” Jordon said. His speech capabilities had recovered quicker than mine.

  “True enough. But it impacts us all. If it was only about you two, I’d say go ahead, fuck like rabbits until you collapse. But it’s not just about you two. This could be a huge problem for us. What happens if one or the other of you is captured? You’re so emotionally involved that you wouldn’t be able to make an effective decision.” Pierce walked closer with each word until he was seriously invading our personal space.

  Seeing his face clearly now, I could see he wasn’t mad in the least, only very worried. I side-stepped the hand Jordon tried to place on my shoulder. I ignored him as I steeped farther to the side and I could practically hear his jaw breaking as he ground his teeth.

  “You’re absolutely correct. This is something I have been telling Jordon for some time now. Since before Colombia.” I risked a glance at him and he physically recoiled at my words. “But... as he has said: we’re human, no matter how much the military wishes it otherwise. We sometimes can’t help the attractions we feel or emotions they bring. I’m asking you to trust us, Pierce.”

  “Trust you how? To keep it in your pants? Sex is a moot point here, Mic. Whether you do the deed or not is inconsequential. The damage, as it were, is done.”

  “True enough. I was having a bad day and I let things get out of hand. I am, after all, only human. It won’t happen again.”

  Pierce turned from me and focused his attention on Jordon. “Won’t it? Jordon, do you agree to that or are you going to keep trying to kiss her every opportunity you get?”

  “I can’t really say. I can’t help myself when it comes to her.” At least he was honest.

  “You had better learn to, Jordon. It’s her or Steel. You can’t have both. In fact, you can only have Steel. Because if you get kicked out of the unit, you won’t see her at all. You’ve painted yourselves into a corner. It’s up to you two to decide how to get out of it.” With that being said, Pierce turned on his heel and walked away.

  “Can’t help yourself, huh?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “No, I can’t. You’re like gravity; an unstoppable force, pulling me in no matter how hard I resist. And don’t cross your freaking arms like that, woman. It makes me stare at your chest and that will only lead to more trouble for us both.” He too, turned on his heel and left me.

  “Well, you’re pretty unstoppable yourself,” I said to the empty room. With my words came the realization that I was in serious hot water without even knowing how I got there. I was like a frog placed in cold water, slowly heating and being cooked without even realizing it until it was too late. Chris was the water and I was stuck, unable to jump out.

  Chapter 7

  The next morning, I found myself standing and
staring at my door, almost unwilling to open it and face Pierce and Jordon. Which was unacceptable. I couldn’t let them see how much I was affected by that kiss last night. They didn’t need to know that I slept without nightmares for the first time in two months. Instead my dreams had been filled with blazing green eyes and strong grasping hands.

  Walking into the common room, I immediately noticed Rook and Flynn bent over a chess board. Flynn was taking a long time between moves, but Rook had no such hesitation, quickly advancing and adding to the growing stack of Flynn’s taken pieces. I didn’t enjoy chess or follow it that well, nor did I care to learn. I left them to it. My target was kicked back watching FOX News.

  Grabbing a cup of coffee first, I sat next to Pierce. He looked at me before resuming his brainwashing.

  “We good?” I asked simply, taking a sip of my coffee.

  “We’re good. Leave it at that.”

  “When is Jackson due to arrive?” I looked around, not seeing my aunt, but judging by the smell of bacon and fried potatoes coming from the kitchen, she had matters well in hand.

  “In thirty,” he said, again not looking at me.

  “Copy,” I replied. Giving up on conversation I headed into the kitchen.

  “Morning, Aunt Beatrice,” I said, kissing the cheek she offered me.

  “Morning, Bea. I’m making your favorite.” There was a spread the likes of which I hadn’t seen in years. Stacks of waffles and bacon, and pan fried ham and potatoes. I wiped my mouth, making sure the drool pooling inside wasn’t running down my chin.

  “When’s breakfast ready?” I asked, peeking around her shoulder to see what she was doing on the stove. She had a western omelet the size of a serving platter in a giant cast iron skillet. How she even lifted the damn thing I will never know.

  “Any minute. Tell the boys to set the table.” This was going to be fun. They most likely hadn’t set a table since before they joined the military. If then.

  Stepping back out into the common room, I shouted to get their attention. “Listen up ladies, breakfast is almost ready. Aunt Beatrice wants you to come and set the table. File in!”

 

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