“The lieutenant’s not Lennard’s concern. Saving your ass is the only thing he’s worried about.” The censure in Brenner’s tone wasn’t lost on me because he didn’t want me to miss how pissed-off he was.
That makes two of us, buddy.
My throat clogged as I looked around Brenner’s office. Awards. Team flag. A hand-carved trident proudly displayed.
Brotherhood.
Honor.
Was I willing to walk away? Damn near twenty years of my life had been dedicated to the cause.
“You ever been in love?” I asked Brenner.
“You know damn well I’m married.”
“I’ll assume that’s a yes.”
“You’d assume right.”
“You ever known me to fuck up?”
“Not sure where you’re going with this, but as they say, there’s a first time for everything and I’m feeling like this might be the first time I witness Drake Hayes make a monumental fuckin’ mistake.”
I didn’t make mistakes, especially not monumental ones.
Except one—allowing Liberty McCoy to walk out of my life.
And right here, right now, I was going to rectify that.
“I’ll take the full hit, but I want Liberty cleared. However Lennard needs to do that.”
“You cannot be fucking serious.”
“Deadly.”
“You take this hit, it could lead to a dishonorable discharge.”
“I’d prefer honorable, considering I’ve given a lot of years to this country. Not to mention, the amount of blood I’ve spilled means I’ve earned it. I’ll even take an other than honorable if necessary. But the bottom line is, I don’t give the first fuck what my DD-214 reads as long as Lieutenant Liberty McCoy is shielded. However that happens, I don’t care.”
“Brother, that’s—”
“Tell me—you love your wife, would you let her ass swing in the wind?”
Brenner didn’t answer, he didn’t need to. I knew he would never cover his own ass and leave his wife unprotected.
“You’re gonna throw everything away for this woman.”
“Same as you would for your wife,” I answered.
“She’s my wife,” Brenner argued.
“Don’t need a piece of paper binding me to her for me to know, I’d fight and die for her. Don’t need her to wear my ring or take my name to know that I’d give up everything for her. And I mean everything, Brenner. This shit doesn’t touch her. She’s a damn good soldier. She’s earned her commission and then some.
“And when you take this back to Lennard, remind him that less than a week after she’d been held hostage, beaten, tortured, yet she still went out with us on an op. One that went to shit, yet she still had the wherewithal to get us clear of it. Then you remind him that during her time in captivity, where she was fucking tortured, she didn’t break. She took it. She endured the fiery pit of hell and gave up nothing.
“With all of that, you tell me, does that sound like a woman, a soldier, worth saving? Because to me, Liberty McCoy is the very definition of a United States military officer.”
“Fuck,” Brenner clipped. “We can do this another way, without you taking the hit.”
Peace settled over me when I looked at the command master chief. A man who I’d served with for years. Good. Solid. Honorable.
I tried again. “You know damn well, the higher ups are gonna want someone’s ass for this. I’m asking for them to bury this, protect Lieutenant McCoy, and make it go away. I will gladly take the hit if this never touches her.”
Brenner let out a low whistle and shook his head.
“I don’t know if—”
“Tell Lennard to get in touch with General Wick. Between the two of them, they can entomb this shit and it will never be found. And I’d suggest someone go to Golan Heights and find the motherfucker who recorded me and my woman.”
Brenner continued to stare at me in silence. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for but I was done.
“Anything else?”
Brenner shook his head and looked to the ceiling. “Christ, Hayes.”
When he said no more I offered, “You need my badge?”
“Fucking. Christ.” His eyes came to mine, regret clear.
That was a yes.
I reached into my pocket, shuffled Liberty’s dog tags to the side, and fished my plastic ID badge out and held it out to Brenner. Once I handed it over, I would no longer have access to the compound.
Surprisingly, the pain of that knowledge didn’t begin to touch the constant ache in my chest.
“You’ll be on mandatory leave pending an investigation,” Brenner told me. “Pay restriction will start immediately.”
“Understood.”
“Last chance to change your mind.”
“Not gonna happen.”
Brenner finally took my credentials and I swallowed the lump in my throat. Carter’s words came to me in a rush, when you’re in you’re the best, when you’re out you’re a pest. That was what he’d said to me the day he separated from the teams.
Fucking hell.
I’d no longer be welcomed in the house I’d bled for.
“Hate this,” Brenner muttered.
“Me, too. But I see no other way.”
“I know you don’t. That’s why I’m gonna work my ass off to protect her.”
Brenner would. He was a good man.
“Much appreciated.”
Without sparing him another glance, I went for the door. I didn’t take a full breath until I made my way through the building and hit the parking lot.
Fucking shit.
Gone.
In the span of twenty minutes I’d lost everything.
That wasn’t true. I’d lost it fourteen days ago.
26
“How are you?” I asked into the phone.
“Fucking miserable,” Trey grouched.
He totally sounded it.
“When are you being discharged?”
“Today. After I piss in a cup, they poke me fifty-two more times, and Nurse Ratched watches me give myself a sponge bath and I don’t fall over.”
“She can’t be that bad.” I laughed.
Or at least I hope Trey had exaggerated when he spent fifteen minutes bitching about the nurse. She sounded awful, but in her defense, I doubted Trey was a very good patient.
“There are no words to describe how horrible she is,” he returned.
“Well, then, it’s good you’re blowing that popsicle stand. How’s Luke making out?”
“Oh, Luke’s peachy, he’s got some leggy blonde over at his place nursing his ass back to health.”
My heart constricted at the reminder that women fall all over themselves to get to SEALs. It had been three weeks since I’d seen or heard from Drake and every night when I went to bed, my body craved his. Then as I drifted to sleep, in the space between awake and when the nightmares started, I would dream of him. And in the morning, sleep deprived and desolate, I wondered if he had someone lying next to him, easing the loneliness.
I’m sure he did.
“Is that jealousy I detect?” I teased.
“Fuck yeah, it is.”
I couldn’t stop my burst of laughter. “Hopefully, you can find your own leggy blonde to nurse you back to health tomorrow.”
“Don’t like blondes. In my experience, blondes aren’t more fun, they’re more drama. I prefer my women no-maintenance and drama-free.”
“Good luck with that, friend. You’re searching for a unicorn.”
“No shit. There’s a reason I’m wild and free.” There was a beat of silence and when I heard Trey sigh, I braced. “Have you talked to Drake?”
Hell to the no, we aren’t going there.
“No, and I’m gonna do you a solid and be no-drama and no-maintenance and tell you straight out, I don’t want to talk about Drake.”
“Then why did you call?”
“To check on you,” I huffed.
&nb
sp; “Right, so now you know my ass is sitting in a hospital bed in Bethesda, with new hardware including a rod, two nails, and a few screws. It hurts like fuck. And the muscle relaxer they’re giving me makes my dick tingle, so I refuse to take it. So, let’s talk about you.”
I bit back my retort about not needing to hear about his dick tingling, because frankly I didn’t want to say the word dick to Trey.
Instead I told him, “Nothing to talk about. Told you already I PCS’d to Savannah and my leave was extended another week.”
“Cut the shit, Liberty, and tell me how you’re doing.”
Since Trey wasn’t going to give up, I decided to give him something.
“I’m seeing someone,” I admitted.
“Come again?” Trey’s growl took me by surprise.
My back snapped straight and I was happy Trey couldn’t see me because I was seriously hurt. It had taken me a few visits with Dr. Barlow to understand I had nothing to be ashamed of.
“Who is he?” Trey asked and I frowned.
“He? What are you talking about?”
“You said you were seeing someone. Who is he? Old boyfriend or you’d—”
“Seriously?” I spat. “I’m seeing a therapist.”
“Fuck, Liberty. I’m sorry, I assumed—”
“I know what you assumed.” Trey’d automatically lumped me in with every other Frog Hog who nailed SEALs just to say they did. Fuck him. “Glad you’re doing okay. I should go.”
“Don’t go. I said I was sorry. I wanna hear about it. Is it helping, you talking to someone?”
I blew out a breath and reined my temper in. Something that Dr. Barlow was helping me with. These days I had a short fuse, but the more I talked with her the longer it became. I was nowhere near back to my old self but I did feel marginally better.
“The nightmares are worse on the days I see her. That part sucks.”
“Yeah. You’re dredging up shit. Night’s always the worst.”
“Do they go away?” I asked.
That was one of the burning questions I had, yet I was too afraid to ask my dad or uncles about it.
“They do. But you have to put in the work and dig all that bad shit out.”
God, he sounds like Drake.
“So I’ve been told. The guilt still eats at me.”
There was a long stretch of silence and I was ready to call Trey’s name when he spoke.
“Funny thing about guilt, it’s the easiest to pile on and hardest to let go of. Word of advice, don’t fight it.”
“Fight what?”
“When you feel the guilt start to lift. Don’t fight to hold on to it. It does you no good. And, Liberty, trust me on this, it’s easy as hell to cling to it, especially when it starts to slip away.” I heard Trey’s growl of annoyance before he said, “Sorry to cut this short, she’s back and smiling. That doesn’t mean good things for me.”
“Maybe she wants to be friends,” I joked.
“The only thing she wants to be friends with is my dick.”
“Trey!” I snapped. “I doubt that’s true.”
That was a lie, I bet he was right. Trey was seriously hot.
“When I woke up and took a look in the mirror and saw how fucked-up my face was, you wanna know what I thought?”
Oh, shit. Trey sounded sad and resigned and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what made him sound that way.
“What’d you think?” I asked on a whisper then held my breath.
“That my whole life, I’ve attracted a certain type of woman—the wrong kind. And maybe, just maybe, with all these fuckin’ scars on my face I’d finally have a chance with a woman who had something in her other than shallow intentions. I’m sick to death of women who want to fall on my dick because they think they like what they see, when really they couldn’t care less about the man I am. So, honey, when I tell you Nurse Ratched wants to be friends with my dick, unfortunately I know what I’m talking about.”
Damn. I didn’t know what to say to that. I could see that happening, all of it. Trey was that good-looking that women would fall over themselves to get to him without caring who he was on the inside, which incidentally happened to be a really good guy.
“Well, Trey Durum, I see you. The man you are, that is. And it’s an honor to call you my friend, and that has nothing to do with your face or your dick and everything to do with the badass warfighter I know you are.”
“Badass warfighter.” He laughed and I smiled, happy my joke broke some of his sadness. “Girl, you’re too much. I’ll check in soon.”
“Sounds good. Hang in there.”
“Later.” I heard Trey disconnect and I tossed my phone on the counter.
Then I jumped and spun around when I heard Carter ask, “Why’re you talking about Durum’s dick?”
I took one look at Carter’s scandalized expression and I couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up. The harder I tried to hold it back, the worse it got, then I started making these ridiculous noises with my lips pressed together like those girls on Instagram who think it’s sexy to make duck lips or duck face or whatever the hell it’s called. I was proud to say I wasn’t hip on social media lingo and didn’t know that all the cool kids called Instagram The Gram until very recently. So once the duck lip noises started, there was no stopping the laughter.
Bust-a-gut.
Real.
Tears-to-your-eyes laughter that felt so damn good once it started I couldn’t stop. Unfortunately, my cousin didn’t think this was funny. Not even a little bit because he didn’t laugh. Not even a smile cracked his hard face so I bent double, lost sight of his frown, and worried I was going to pee my pants.
I shook with it and made no effort to stop because finally I was feeling something other than heartbreak and despair.
“Liberty!” Carter snapped.
“Wh-what?”
“Trey’s dick?”
“Oh, God.” I laughed harder. “Don’t…don’t ever say that to me again. Gross.”
This time before Carter spoke he waited for me to finish chuckling. “Well?” he prompted.
I explained why I’d called Trey and finished with what he’d said about women and his looks. Carter’s eyes darkened and he looked over my shoulder before his gaze came back to mine and settled.
“I’ve watched it happen. The guy can’t go anywhere without women coming up to him. Sounds lame, cause most men would love that shit. But not him. It gets old. There’s nothing that Trey hates more than an aggressive woman. Except maybe an aggressive one that won’t take no for an answer.”
I hated that for Trey. The woman who finally saw past his looks to the heart of him would have herself gold.
“I can see how that would get old.”
“What about Drake?”
My muscles tensed and the more I tried to play it cool, the more Carter’s eyes narrowed.
“What about him?” I squeaked.
Shit. What the hell is wrong with my voice?
“Did Trey mention how he, Matt, or Logan were making out?”
Phew. I relaxed a bit and fidgeted with my cell, unable to make eye contact, which was a mistake and I knew it. But, Carter was like a mind reader, going all the way back to middle school and my first kiss. Carter’d taken one look at me and knew. Then he blabbed and I got The Talk from my mom.
“Nope, he didn’t say anything.”
“You wanna tell me why you’re not looking at me and suddenly you’re nervous?”
“Nope.”
“So you’re admitting you’re nervous?”
“Nope.”
“Liberty?”
Goddammit. I tried to think up a lie, something believable, but standing there under Carter’s watchful gaze, I was coming up empty.
“Something happen between you and Drake?”
Yes, I fell in love with him. Had sex with him. Then he broke my heart.
“Nothing worth talking about. Why are you here? Dad’s at work,” I told him something he
should know considering he worked at Triple Canopy with my dad.
“Know that. Just left there.” He paused for a moment. “I came by to check on you. You had an appointment with Dr. Barlow this morning, right?”
It was getting easier to talk about my therapy sessions, at least it was with my mom. She and I had talked a lot about what happened and what I talked to Dr. Barlow about. After the night on the patio, when I had my breakdown, Dad had spent a few hours with me. During which time I gave him every dirty detail. When I was done, he held me while I cried. Then I asked him to go over the mission with me—from a tactical standpoint. He did, and his insight was helpful, however he gently reminded me that hindsight was twenty-twenty.
This was true, it was but it also helped me understand what I’d missed and what I didn’t miss because the signs weren’t there, which was another way he helped me.
I wasn’t so comfortable with my sessions that I wanted to talk about them with everyone. However, talking about anything other than Drake sounded good.
“She’s helping,” I admitted. “Today we talked a lot about me blaming my dad and the uncles about what happened.” I sucked in a lungful of oxygen and when I let it out I continued. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. I knew it was wrong when I was saying all those nasty things. But I couldn’t stop them. It felt like I had all this nasty stuff fighting to get out and the harder I tried to stop it, the more power I gave it until I had no control over it. I was totally wrong and out of line.”
“’Preciate that, Liberty. But you know we don’t hold any animosity. It needed to come out, and however that happened, we were prepared. Blaming them is a natural response, but I hope you get that it’s not their fault.”
“I do know. I knew all along, I just hurt so bad I wanted the world to hurt with me. I said some fucked-up stuff to you.” I gulped down the lump gathering in my throat and pushed through. “I’d never wanted it to be you and not me, I hope you know that. I never wished it was you Roman took. I’d made my peace and I was ready to die that day.”
Carter wasn’t saying anything—his eyes stayed glued to mine, but his posture shifted and his breath came in tight gasps. Something had changed. Something big.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Cousin.”
Taking Liberty: The Next Generation Page 19