Battle Scars

by Cara Carnes

  Then the content turned…

  Raw.

  Painful.

  Brutally honest in a way he couldn’t let anyone see. Yet a part of him wanted to give it to Ellie. She deserved to see she’d been his light.

  She was right. He needed to go, or he’d be a wreck all night. Rising from the table, he motioned toward the bathroom. “Back in a minute.”

  “Are you okay?” Bree asked.

  Ellie glanced at her friend, then at Rhea and Zoey. They’d assembled for their weekly movie—Bree’s pick, which meant it’d be a horror. She didn’t want to admit the last thing she wanted to watch tonight was a bloody slasher movie or whatever other terrifying flick Rhea chose. At least it wasn’t Bree’s week. Her choices were always beyond terrifying.

  “Of course,” Ellie lied. “I’m just worried about Dani.” And Jesse.

  She scraped the remnant brownie batter from the sides of the bowl and worked it into the mixture. Dinner had gone well after Jesse returned.

  Enchiladas. Ellie barely remembered the one time she’d made enchiladas with Momma Mason, but it’d been a strong enough memory in Jesse’s mind for him to use as…

  An escape.

  She’d read most of what Cord had gathered. She’d puked her guts out more than once, but she’d gotten through enough of it to know there were still many questions in her mind. He’d suffered more than she’d realized. Details on how were vague.

  “Ellie-belly.”

  Her mom’s voice drew her attention. “Are you okay, Ma?”

  “I’m fine, but you aren’t. What happened?”

  Ellie blinked. She’d never lied to her mother. It was one of their sacred promises to one another since the first cancer diagnosis. “Jesse shared something that surprised me. That’s all.”

  “What did he share?” Zoey asked as she snagged one of the cookies Ellie had just removed from the oven and chewed. Mouth full, the woman looked around the room. “What? You were all wondering.”

  “They starved prisoners. You ate only if you gave intel, which he never would.” She swallowed. “He’d remember his mom’s cooking when he got really hungry. And my enchiladas.”

  “They must be good,” Rhea commented.

  “I only made them once, with his mom,” Ellie whispered as she glanced at her mom, who’d sat next to Zoey at the table. “I barely remember, but he remembered well enough to escape into it.”

  “The mind’s a tricky thing,” Bree commented. “Why did he leave the table?”

  Ellie froze. She wouldn’t ever betray Jesse’s trust, and telling anyone about the journaling felt like a huge breech of the trust he’d given her.

  “That’s something between them,” her mom chided. “Best leave it be. I’ve seen that look many times. She’d never repeat something he shared. He could be a serial killer and she’d go to her grave with the secret.”

  Ellie smiled when everyone laughed. Her mom was having a good day. She’d eaten a good meal—a fact Sara had shared when they’d returned from Marville. As if summoned by thought, the woman entered the small cottage in a frenzy.

  “Are you okay?” Rhea asked.

  “Yeah. I-I just need a break,” Sara admitted. Her eyes and face were red as though she’d been crying.

  The poor girl had been through a harrowing ordeal—physically and sexually abused by her own father, a U.S. congressman. Ellie hated to think about what would’ve happened to Sara and her baby girl if Zoey and The Arsenal hadn’t helped.

  Sara had handled the situation well for an eighteen-year-old thrust into parenthood because of sexual assault. The sick bastard had bred his own granddaughter. Ellie removed her apron and went into the living room. Ariana was kicking and wailing as though she were dying. The moment she took the little girl from her mom, she quieted. She positioned the baby in a burping position and rocked from one foot to another.

  “You’re good with her,” Sara said with a smile.

  “She babysat just about every baby in Marville,” her mom said. “She even diapered Riley many times, if I remember correctly.”

  “You’ll get the hang of it,” Ellie said, sensing the young mother’s agitation. “You’re already a thousand times better than I was when I first started tending babies. Little ones like this terrified me. I don’t know how many times I called Mom crying for one reason or another.”

  Her mom laughed. “Too many to count.”

  The door opened again. Jesse entered and froze. His eyes widened. A pained expression crossed his face as he looked at Ellie.

  “Hey,” she said. “Come in. I was about to make peanut butter and chocolate brownies.”

  “I can’t stay,” Jesse said. He held up her purse. “You forgot this.”

  “Oh.” She looked around as he turned as if leaving. “Wait a second, Jesse. I’ll walk you out.”

  “Don’t bother. I’m fine,” he clipped. The door slammed behind him.

  Silence.

  “What the hell was that?” Bree asked.

  “I have no idea,” Ellie admitted. “It’s been a long day for us all. He likely needs rest.”

  And time away from her and everyone else. “What movie are watching tonight?”

  “Alien,” Rhea declared.

  Ugh. “Those are the bug ones, right?”

  Bree and Zoey cackled. None of them understood Ellie’s hatred for scary movies. They all groaned when her turn for movie night came about because she always opted for romantic comedies instead. Everyone had enough scary and tragic in their lives as it was.

  “Fine, but we leave the lights on.” Ellie glanced at Sara. “Why don’t you stay and watch with us? There’s popcorn and tons of sweets.”

  “Ellie stress bakes,” Zoey commented. “I’ve gained fifteen pounds since knowing her. At this rate, Gage will dump me in a month because of it.”

  “As if,” Sara said. “That man is head over heels for you.”

  He was. Ellie grinned. “So? You staying?”

  “I shouldn’t. Ariana needs a crib.”

  “There’s an extra in the guest room,” Bree said. “Rhea and I were in this cottage for a while before it was renovated. The furniture remained. We had the extra crib for when we watched Ariana for you.”

  “Oh, that’s perfect.” The girl beamed. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all.” Ellie smiled and snuggled Ariana closer. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad.

  Jesse paced. His mind streamed ten klicks a second, but his mouth refused to move. Doctor Sinclair sat in the seat she always used when he showed up unannounced. For the first time, though, he stepped back from his agitation because of something Ellie had said the night before.

  Sinclair worked too many hours. Ellie was worried.

  He assessed the head shrink with a new mindset and noted the dark circles beneath her eyes and the disheveled look to her clothing. It was well after dusk, and she’d still been in her office.

  “Is your mind spinning again?”

  He grunted.

  “Give me a word, Jesse. Anything. Let’s find a starting point.”

  “Ellie,” he growled.

  She shifted in her chair, as if surprised. Anytime she’d broached the subject of Ellie he’d shut her out, and now here he was agitated out of his fucking skull because of Ellie. She’d been holding Ariana when he entered, and seeing her with a baby, knowing he’d never give her or any other woman that…

  He growled and paced again. Back and forth in the area he always chose. Sinclair had even bought a small runner carpet that looked like a road. Appropriate since he felt like he’d been hit by a Mack truck.

  “You’re agitated. What happened?”

  “Lots.”

  Sinclair hated when he regressed to short sentences, but he couldn’t help it. She remained quiet as he calmed his breathing. Again. But the sight of Ellie holding that baby…the little girl had been cooing. Happy. That kid wasn’t ever happy for anyone.

  Except Ellie.

&
nbsp; And his mom.

  And him.

  Fuck.

  “Have you been sleeping?”

  “No.” He paused, forcing the first admission out. “Fell asleep at Ellie’s last night.”

  “Okay. That’s different. I’m sure it was a surprise to you. Had you been there long?”

  “Dinner. Her. Mom. Her mom. Movie. TV Show.” The night appeared in his mind like a list at first. Order within the jumbled chaos.

  “What did you have?”

  “Chicken parmesan. Ellie’s a good cook.”

  “I know. I’ve had her chicken parmesan before,” Sinclair commented. “You do know it’s okay to enjoy spending time with her, right?”

  Jesse glared.

  “Is that what’s wrong? You had a good time?”

  “Then I had an episode. Levi had to handle me like I was a crazed animal.” Jesse breathed deeper as the words flowed easier. The tightness in his chest eased a bit.

  “Ellie saw the episode,” Sinclair said, her voice soft. Soothing. “That must’ve been scary.”

  Terrifying. The realization thundered through Jesse. He stilled. “I didn’t want her seeing that.”

  “How did she handle it?”

  Jesse rubbed his eyes. “Amazing. She…Levi had her fix cocoa so she’d leave the room and I could…”

  “You didn’t want her to see you journal.”

  He shook his head. “She brought cocoa and peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. For a second I almost forgot, Doc. Then she told me to finish my journal. She’d known.”

  “How did that make you feel?”

  Jesse hated that fucking question with the heat of a thousand suns. He rubbed his chest and paced some more. He needed to go beat up on the bag downstairs some. That’d purge some of the excess energy. Maybe then he’d pass out tonight.

  “Jesse.”

  “Good. I felt…comfortable.” Safe.

  Loved.

  A glimmer of a smile appeared on her typically expressionless face. He recognized that glimmer. Progress.

  Jesse growled.

  Ellie wasn’t progress. Sinclair didn’t understand. The freaking baby.

  “What else?” The woman nudged like she held an electric cattle prod.

  Jesse offloaded the rest. The restaurant. The enchiladas. The baby. By the time he’d finished, the pressure in his chest was mostly gone and his breathing was normal. He sat on the sofa and expended a weary breath.

  “You ready to take sleeping pills yet?” She asked an already answered question.

  Jesse wouldn’t ever pop pills to fix a problem. He’d seen too many soldiers eat a gun or waste a second chance they’d gotten after almost dying because of pills. While he understood the need for medication, he wouldn’t ever choose it for himself. He shook his head anyway.

  “You’ve never been ready to discuss this, Jesse, but last night leads me to believe you are.”

  Jesse braced. There was only one topic Sinclair had tried to broach that he’d refused to listen to. He glanced at the door but knew better than to bolt. She’d track his ass down.

  “You suffered tremendous damage to your sexual organs, Jesse, but the majority of the functional damage was repaired,” Sinclair whispered. “There’s no medical reason for you not to have some form of sexual relationship—even if it’s limited in scope because of your psychological trauma.”

  His dick looked like it’d been chewed up and spat out by a meat grinder, but the doctors had assured him he could get an erection “naturally.” Whatever the fuck that meant. He’d masturbated a few times, but rarely tried anymore. It always reminded him of what he’d lost. What he’d endured. He’d lost one testicle, but the other still worked. Kind of. Jesse rolled the medical diagnosis he’d heard multiple times through his mind, but remained silent.

  “Even if you never have sex with Ellie, there’s no reason you couldn’t have a loving and fulfilling relationship with her.”

  “She won’t ever have my kid, Doc. She needs kids. She’d be a good mom.”

  “There’s adoption. Surrogacy. You’re a smart man, Jesse. You recognize excuses when you hear them.”

  “That part of me is dead, Doc. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”

  “Why? Just because you may not have an erection or achieve an orgasm doesn’t mean she can’t. There are a multitude of things you could do.” She fell quiet a moment. Jesse braced. “I think a part of you wants to try, and that terrifies you. But why?”

  Shit. Jesse rose and returned to the road. Paced. Damn Sinclair for planting the thought in his brain. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting Ellie again. Her lips. Her breasts.

  “I can’t lose her,” he admitted. “I can’t risk it.”

  “Will you at least talk to her about it?”

  The woman was nuts. He froze and stared at her as though she’d grown ten heads. She may as well have. No way in hell was he talking about sex with Ellie. “She knows that’s not happening.”

  “Right. Because you both agreed only you and Ellie would define your relationship.”

  Jesse narrowed his gaze.

  “Stop defining, Jesse.”

  He paced. Was he setting boundaries? Yes. Were they necessary?

  Maybe.

  The maybe made him halt again. He’d never answered maybe.

  What if Doc was right? What if he could…

  He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the doctor once more. She was good, the best he’d ever spoken with. But he’d come here and delayed her departure. How many others did that to her every day?

  “Thanks, Doc.”

  “Anytime, Jesse.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I mean that. I’m proud of you. You’ve made tremendous progress.”

  “Because of you. The journaling helps.”

  “Have you considered sharing them with her?”

  Jesse looked over at Sinclair, too startled by the thought to respond.

  “You’re worried about losing her. Why?”

  “I’m a fucking mess. She sees too much, she’ll bolt. Besides, she’s got her mom to deal with.”

  “She’s not bolting from that, is she?”

  Jesse shook his head. Ellie wasn’t a runner. She entrenched herself in a problem and stood her ground. She always had. “What if it’s too much for her? I can’t lose her, Doc.”

  “Think on it. We’ll take it slow, Jesse, but you’re ready for the next step.”

  10

  Exhaustion plagued Ellie through her first two cups of coffee. Early morning light spilled into the windows across from her desk. A part of her wanted to escape her current project and take a walk outside. Remembering the home she’d been raised in—the one Phil had stolen from her mother—was painful.

  “You’re tired,” Mary said. “Rough night?”

  She nodded. “Mom had a good evening. We did movie night, but she woke shortly after midnight with an upset stomach. Those nights aren’t ever good.”

  “You should call Logan when you have those nights. There might be something he can do to help,” Dylan said as he sat on the side of the desk where Jesse typically perched while signing checks.

  Ellie nodded. For once she wasn’t alone in dealing with her mom’s cancer. Maybe Doc Logan would have pain medication to help ease her mother’s suffering. Legal or otherwise, she’d accept whatever made her mom’s remaining time more peaceful. Rather than mire Dylan and Mary in the muck of her grim reality, Ellie focused on the horrible rendition of her childhood home that she was trying to sketch.

  “This was your home,” Mary commented.

  “Dad built it for Mom. He spent hours with the designers to get everything just right.”

  There was a long porch with four sets of sliding glass doors to offer ample breezes. The main living room paralleled a formal living area which could be separated by recessed sliding doors. Windows along the far wall of the formal living space offered cross breezes and ventilation.

  The kitchen was large—far bigger
than in most houses of its time. Cabinetry crouched a bit lower than standard because her mom was “vertically challenged.” Ellie smiled at the memories of her parents’ arguments about her height. It’d been a simpler time.

  “The house is ranch style, so everything is spread out on one floor,” Ellie said. “The office is by itself on the northwest side of the house. There’s a window at its southern wall, but there are cacti growing in a bed below there. Or there was.”

  It’d been a while since she’d actually seen her family home. How much of it had he changed? They’d renovated the master bathroom and bedroom for her mother shortly after they’d been married. Phil had been a different man back then.

  “This is exactly what we needed,” Mary said with a smile. “We’ll be able to dispatch surveillance drones to cover Fallon and Jesse’s entry much more easily now. Did you and your ex live there with your mom the entire time?”

  “When she was sick. She gave him free rein of the office since she didn’t need it, but there were a couple drawers of her paperwork there. That’s what I was packing up when the disc must’ve fallen into my box.” Ellie flipped the page. “This is what the office looked like last time I saw it.”

  Not that it mattered. Ellie suspected Mary and Vi could’ve handled this simple break-in without any assistance, but it was nice to help. “I’m rambling.”

  “Not at all.” Dylan crossed his arms. His right leg swung back and forth. “We’ll need to hit this afternoon, around the time you’re in Nomad with your mom. His shift starts then. We have some people who will follow him around while Fallon and Jesse are inside. Do you know of anyone else who’d be at the house?”

  Ellie’s gut somersaulted. “I haven’t been out there since the divorce. I’m not sure who he’s hanging out with.”

  “We’ll get some answers, Ellie,” Mary promised. “I’d better get to ops before baby here drop-kicks my bladder.”

  Dylan grinned, leaned down, and kissed his wife. Ellie loved watching the two of them together, but moments like these hurt. That could’ve been her and Jesse. A tightness formed in her chest.

  “Do you have names picked out?”

  “We have a few ideas, but haven’t committed to anything yet.” Mary looked up at Dylan.