Fighting Absolution

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Fighting Absolution Page 24

by Kate McCarthy


  But two days later when I’m finished playing with explosives all day at work, and just an hour before Jamie’s due to board her flight for Townsville, it hits me that she’s leaving and I won’t see her again for a really long time. Something makes me panic at the thought.

  Ditching my uniform, I change into jeans and a tee shirt, grabbing my keys and wallet as I race outside.

  “Where’s the fire?” Ryan calls after me, going somewhere himself as he opens the door of his Mustang.

  There’s no time for a retort. I need to see Jamie. I rev the engine and pull out with a squeal, accelerating to a limit just beyond acceptable. I’m pulling away from a red light, opening up a huge lead with the car behind me when a blue light flashes through its windscreen.

  “Shit, fuck, goddammit.”

  I pull over, ripping off my helmet when the officer approaches. “Have you got any idea how fast you were going?”

  Absolutely none. “No, sir.”

  “Where do you work?” he asks.

  “Campbell Barracks.”

  The officer looks me over, lips pinched. “Give me your licence.”

  I tug my wallet free and hand it over.

  “Beeeeeep, beep, beep!” sounds a horn. I look up as Ryan’s Mustang growls past, his arm out the window as he waves, teeth flashing in a grin.

  “Asshole,” I mutter.

  “Any reason for the speed?” the officer asks as he does a visual check of my licence.

  I crack my knuckles, trying to fight the impatience. “I need to get to the airport.”

  “You got a flight to catch?”

  “No. I have a friend heading back to base in Townsville. I wanted to say goodbye.”

  He looks up, brows winging high. “This person army too?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Poor bastard,” he mutters and hands my licence back. “Slow down next time.”

  The officer starts back to his car. I shove my helmet back on and zoom off, a little slower this time. By the time I find a parking space and jog my way through the airport, her flight is already boarding.

  “Jamie?” I holler, looking through the crowd as I reach her boarding gate. “Jamie?”

  “Kyle?” My breath whooshes out when she waves from the line. I know she asked me not to come, but I swear her eyes brighten a little when she sees me. She glances behind her at Wood before stepping free of the queue and coming towards me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I know you said not to come, but I was out this way anyway,” I lie, because I can’t think of a good goddamn reason why I’m standing here right now like an idiot. I glance over at Wood before looking back at her. “Are things between you and Wood okay?”

  Jamie shrugs. “We’re on shaky ground I guess. I’m happy for him, Kyle. He’s found something better than the army, but I don’t know. Every time I look at him, I want to punch him in the face.”

  “Should make for a fun flight,” I quip.

  She rolls her eyes. “Right?”

  I jerk my chin in the direction of her gate. The line is dwindling as everyone boards. “You should go.” I don’t hug her. I’m not sure I’d let go otherwise. Instead, I palm the sharp line of her jaw, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “Safe travels, Little Warrior.”

  She starts walking backwards and my hand falls away. “Later, Bear.”

  Jamie disappears down the boarding ramp and I take a seat by the window, elbows on my knees, hands joined in a fist and pressed to my mouth as I watch the plane taxi down the runway and lift into the sky, taking Jamie away. It’s not until her plane fades into the distance that I get up and walk away.

  24

  JAMIE

  Wood puts his hand on the handle of the passenger door. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”

  I’ve pulled to a stop in the drop-off zone at the Townsville airport. It’s been months since I was here, arriving from post-deployment leave in Perth. It feels like only yesterday and yet a lifetime ago—all at the same time. Wood is done with the army. His transition to civilian life has been processed. He’s now flying to Perth via Brisbane, his relationship with Erin becoming official. They’re moving in together.

  “I’m sure. I don’t handle goodbyes all that well, you know that. The last goodbye I attempted ended up with me drunk and diving half-naked into a bitterly cold ocean.”

  Wood snorts, knowing of my escapade. It’s not something you can easily hide when you return home at five a.m. dripping wet, wearing nothing but a thong and a man’s tee shirt that almost reaches your knees, wet pants bunched in your hand, and bare feet. Not to mention Kyle’s insistence on walking me to the apartment door, shirtless, his jeans drenched because the waves came up and almost washed them away. Laughter bubbles up inside at the image of Kyle in nothing but his boxer-briefs, scrambling after them with a shout. I dropped to the sand in fits of laughter and had to go dunk myself back in the ocean again to rinse off.

  “It’s hardly the same thing.”

  “It feels like it,” I say, which is a struggle to admit. Talking about feelings without alcoholic lubricant is hard. I’m not just army. Or a combat medic. I’m a female in a sea of dominating males who think the length of their dick is an acceptable form of measuring respect. I can’t appear soft. I don’t have that kind of luxury. And it’s hard to change that the moment the uniform comes off. I’m not a switch. And I’m not sweet. Nor am I feminine. But it doesn’t mean I don’t care, even though it comes across that way sometimes.

  Okay.

  Most times.

  “Jamie—”

  “You’ll miss your flight.”

  Wood lets out a heavy breath as if I’m testing his patience. “Just walk me to the gate. There’s something I want to give you. A present.”

  “You mean, apart from a black eye and a split brow?”

  “That was years ago!”

  I smirk, starting to wonder if Kyle is rubbing off on me. “What can I say? I hold a grudge.”

  “Fuck’s sake.” Wood knows I’m only teasing, but he’s giving the impression that the end of his tether has been reached. He jerks the handle of the door and opens it.

  My chest gets unexpectedly tight. “Wait!”

  Wood pauses—half-in and half-out of my little Toyota Corolla—and looks at me over his shoulder.

  “Move it along!” the parking attendant booms, dipping his head down so I can better see his pissy expression through the car window. “You’re holding up the other cars in the line.”

  I wave him off with a faux apologetic smile while Wood gets out. The attendant walks to the next car, impatient to exert his authority over the blue BMW sedan behind me.

  “Wood!” He closes the car door and ducks down, resting his forearms on the open window. “I’ll park, okay? Just … get your damn bags out and I’ll meet you back here.”

  His nostrils flare. “Forget about it, Jamie. I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

  Shit. How do I even have any friends at all? It makes me question the judgement of the ones I do have. Why do they stick with me? Do they see something I don’t? Or do they just enjoy a challenge? I need to do better.

  “I’m sorry.” My jaw tightens and I tap my fingers on the steering wheel. Doing better is hard. “I want to walk with you to the gate. Just don’t …”

  “Don’t what?”

  Leave being pissed at me. I love Wood as if he were my own brother. It’s been me and him since training began. A team. And now we’re not anymore. Everything’s changing, and I don’t like it. Change is for the birds.

  “Don’t what, Jamie?” he prods.

  Gah! “Just don’t give my present to someone else.”

  Leaving my car in the short-term parking lot, I walk towards the entrance of the airport, phone in the back pocket of my jeans and keys in hand. I don’t own a handbag. They always felt like a feminine accessory that never suited me, but they do seem practical. I seem to acquire more necessities as I get older. Things like eye drops
for late nights working and lip balm for chafed lips. Tissues and mints. I used to just suck it up, but I’m slowly starting to realise I don’t have to. Chafed lips and red eyes don’t make me tough. Having a few tissues handy and fresh breath doesn’t make me soft.

  I make a resolution to go buy a bag after leaving the airport. A nice one. One with leather and pretty buckles. I could even take a photo of it and send it to Erin. She would shit herself. The thought buoys me as the doors whoosh open, ejecting cool air as I step inside, flicking my sunglasses to the top of my head.

  I make my way over to the departures section, where my best friend waits beside two extra-large suitcases. “You’ve got a lot of baggage, Wood.”

  “That’s my whole life in these things.”

  He collects one and I take the other, and we start wheeling them towards the baggage drop-off. “Well, when you put it that way, it just sounds sad.”

  Wood bumps me with his shoulder, pushing me off course. “Hey!”

  He shrugs. “It kinda is, I guess, but that’s army for you, right? When you’re single and living on base, the last thing you waste money on is nice furnishings and artwork for the walls.”

  “You’re looking forward to having your own place, aren’t you?”

  “Hell yes. Erin wants to rent, but I want to buy. We’re in a bit of a standoff about it, but we need to decide soon before her lease runs out.”

  “Trouble in paradise already?” I force myself to tease. It still feels weird, the two of them together. A little awkward even. Probably because I got blindsided by it, which is partly my fault for burying my head in the sand like a stubborn ostrich.

  “Buying will eat up a bit of savings, but owning property will go a long way towards getting a business loan for her spa retreat in the mountains. It makes sense.”

  We reach the gate and I check the time. Boarding isn’t for another hour. “What should we do? Buy you a book? Some magazines? Get a coffee?”

  “I could eat,” he offers.

  “Let’s eat.”

  Erin video calls Wood while we’re seated together at the gate, juggling coffees and bacon burgers. He answers with barbeque sauce smeared across the side of his mouth. Along with his mussed hair and stupid grin, he looks ridiculous. I don’t tell him and Erin laughs. “You got a bit of something …” She points to the side of her mouth.

  Wood wipes at the wrong side, holding the phone back far enough for her to see both of us. “Did I get it?”

  “Yeah, you got it.” She looks at me and we share a smirk. Our first since their relationship blew up in my face. It warms my insides and makes me realise that maybe I’m not losing both of my friends after all. Maybe literally, to distance, but not figuratively.

  “I miss you, Jamie.”

  I let out a breath. “Miss you too.”

  “When are you going to come visit us?”

  Us. God. It’s still weird. “As soon as I get leave. Make sure you set up a room for me in your new house.”

  “I will. I’ll give you the room you always wanted and never had.” Amusement lights her eyes. “White canopy bed, pink frills, rose wallpaper. A pretty display of barbie dolls.”

  “Change the barbies to GI Janes and I might consider not burning the entire room to the ground.”

  She laughs and Wood steps in, mouth full of bacon burger. “Don’t worry, Murphy,” he tells me. “I won’t let her in the house with any of that girly crap.”

  “Oh my god, Wood.” I cover my eyes from the train wreck about to unfold before them.

  “What?” he asks, sounding genuinely lost.

  “Girly crap?” Erin sounds a bit pissy. “What are you saying, Colin? You want to cover our house in desert camouflage and live in squalor?”

  “I didn’t say that. Murphy? Did I say that?”

  I uncover my eyes and look away, sipping my coffee, happy to leave Wood swinging in the wind on this one. “Don’t drag me into your domestic, dude.”

  “You didn’t have to say it. It was implied,” Erin continues. “I mean, I’m a girl. I’m a freaking girly girl. Does that make me crap too? Will you not let me in the house?”

  “Erin,” Wood says in a soothing tone. “You’re being a little dramatic.”

  Her intake of breath is so sharp she almost chokes on it. “Dramatic?”

  “Do you want to die today?” I mutter to my idiotic friend. Erin might be dramatic, but it’s who she is. Even I, a relationship noob, know you can’t call your other half out on their personality flaws. Those are things you learn to live with, not change.

  “No, I don’t,” he mutters back, his lips barely moving. “Help.”

  I set my coffee down on the vacant seat beside me and get to my feet. Bending, I wave into the phone. “See ya, Erin. Gotta go pee.”

  “Don’t leave me,” Wood hisses quietly as I start towards the female restroom. “Traitor,” he calls to my back.

  The insult slides off like Teflon. I’m actually giggling to myself when I push open the door until I find the line of women waiting six-feet-deep to use the loo. My bladder sends me a threatening message. Freaking airport toilets. My phone starts to ring, causing every impatient civilian in line to turn their head and look at me.

  I tug it free of my jeans pocket and look at the screen. It’s Kyle. And a video call at that. It’s probably bad etiquette to answer, right? I hit the decline button and leave a message by way of explanation.

  Little Warrior: I’m in the loo.

  Bear: And you’re on your phone? You’re so gross, Murphy.

  Little Warrior: Says the man who plays on his phone while taking a dump.

  Bear: I do not!

  I actually have no idea if he does or not, but if I’ve learnt anything from Kyle, it’s to fight fire with fire.

  The bubbled dots appear as I move forward in the line, indicating another incoming message.

  Bear: Stop trying to ruin my sexy image.

  I laugh under my breath.

  Little Warrior: You can’t ruin what you never had.

  Bear: Someone’s had their morning coffee.

  Little Warrior: How can you tell?

  Bear: Because you’re on fire this morning. Gotta go. I’ll call again in a little while. Need to tell you something.

  Little Warrior: Tell me what?

  Bear: Later, impatient one.

  Little Warrior: You’re the worst.

  Bear: And yet here you are, talking to me anyway.

  He got me there. I tuck my phone away and squeeze my pelvic floor muscles while I wait for a free stall. After finishing my business and washing my hands, I return to find Wood has ended his call with Erin. He’s also demolished his burger and is busy eating half of mine.

  I rip it from his long bony fingers. “What the hell?”

  He sneers around his mouthful. “Some friend you are.”

  I retake my seat, taking a bite of what’s left, chewing and swallowing before I speak. “You walked right into it. You have a lot to learn about women, young Padawan.”

  He has the nerve to snort. “It’s not like I can learn anything from you.”

  “Oh that is it.” I grab my now cold coffee and stand. “Good luck. Though you’ve probably got a better chance of surviving potshots in Afghanistan than Erin.”

  “Fine. Fine! I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. You’re all woman, Murphy. A hundred percent woman,” he adds, laying it on far too thick, but I let it go. “Teach me everything you know.”

  “Get me another coffee and I will.”

  Wood returns with two more cups, steam rising from the little vents. He hands mine over, and I lift the lid to make it cool faster. “Right, so?”

  I shrug, bringing the cup to my lips and blowing on the hot brown liquid. “I don’t have time for charts and graphs and diagrams, Wood. Teaching you everything about women requires a two-week masterclass, minimum. You board in less than ten minutes.”

  “Just give me one thing.”

  “Okay.”
I think for a moment. “If Erin says she’s fine, don’t believe her. She’s not fine at all.”

  “I already know that one,” he points out, smug. “I learnt it from you. What else?”

  I sigh. “Use your actions to show her how you feel, not your words. Erin appreciates the little things, like flowers and you bringing home her favourite takeout when she’s tired, so I guess that makes you lucky that she’s easily impressed.”

  “That’s a good one. What else?”

  I rub my lips together, thinking. Then I tug my phone free and pull up Kyle’s contact. I’ll call again in a little while. My brows pull together. What does he want to tell me? And why can’t I stop thinking about it?

  “What?” Wood prompts as the flight attendants put the call out for boarding.

  I put my phone away and look at my best friend. “Just …” My hand fumbles for his and I give it a squeeze. “Appreciate every minute you have together, okay?”

  The lump in my throat is huge. I gulp down a mouthful of coffee as we both stand. It burns my tongue. In fact, it scorches my throat all the way down, but it doesn’t hurt half as much as Wood leaving right now.

  I toss my half-empty cup in the trash beside my seat, knowing I won’t be able to stomach the rest.

  “C’mere,” Wood says and pulls me towards him, folding me up in his arms.

  I return the hug, sliding my arms around his waist. “I can’t believe you’re actually leaving.”

  “I know. This is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Leave you here.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Ha!” His chest vibrates against my face. “Fine. Sure.”

  “I will,” I insist, pulling myself free. “I promise.”

  Wood collects his carry-on and stands in front of me, his chest heaving with a deep breath. “I guess this is it. Call me every day, okay?”

  “Once a week.”

  “Every second day.”

  Tears prickle behind my eyes. This is why I don’t do goodbyes. “God, whatever, Wood. Just go already.”

  He starts walking backwards, towards the gate entrance. “Hey, Murphy! About that gift.”

  I hold up arms. “Yeah about that!”

 

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