“Zack. Come home for the holidays. Let Pastor Wooten talk to you.” His mother reached for his hand.
“I don’t need to talk.”
“Son. Don’t you get it? You keep associating with those...homosexuals, people are going to make assumptions—”
“They’d be right.” Zack’s voice was little more than air warming his suddenly frozen lips.
“What did you say?” His mother clutched her neck. “Oh, Zack, don’t joke.”
“I said they’d be right. About me.” He’d expected to feel nauseated, but now that he’d finally gotten the words out, relief flooded his senses.
“No. No son of mine is a goddamned homosexual.” His father’s face had gone from red to purple as he let loose a rare curse.
“This one is.” Relief was funny stuff, made his voice steadier, his muscles firmer.
“We’re going to get you help.” Tears streamed down his mother’s face. “I’ve heard of places that can...make you right again. I’m going to call Pastor Wooten right now and—” She dug around in her purse for her phone.
“Stop. I don’t need help.” Zack’s own eyes burned.
“Of course you do. We got Danny help for his...afflictions, and we’ll do the same for you.” She wiped her eyes, voice more determined now. “I only wish you would have told us sooner—”
“Mom. Danny’s an addict. It’s not the same thing. At all. I was born this way—”
“Don’t you understand how hard life will be for you? That...lifestyle isn’t for you. You need a wife. A helpmate, someone like Leslie who gets what a military man needs. A home. A family. Children.” His mother’s voice broke on the word children. Part of Zack broke along with her.
“Plenty of gay people have kids. They make happy homes.”
“Don’t you talk like that.” His father grabbed for his hand. “You’re a good person. You were born into the church. You’ve been saved. God wants you to make the right choice, and we’re going to help you do that.”
“There are plenty of people in the world who think God loves me exactly like this.” Zack pulled his hand away, unable to stomach the tremor in his father’s grip.
“And they’re wrong. This is not the path of a righteous man. Or a SEAL. I don’t care about those other men—my son isn’t choosing that path.” His father’s eyes narrowed. He pulled out his Bible. “God says—”
“I think you should leave now.” All of a sudden, Zack was tired. Bone-crushingly, soul-numbingly tired. He couldn’t deal with this anymore, couldn’t cope with prayers and help and pleas that were going nowhere.
“Leave?” His mother’s voice cracked. “We can’t leave you like this. You need help.”
“You need to see God’s wisdom,” his father added. “We’ll pray together—”
“I want you to go.” Zack managed to sound firm this time. Resolute. “I’m not praying for change. I like me. A lot.”
“You don’t mean that.” His father took his mother’s elbow, shouldering her bag for her. “You’ll see the error—”
“I won’t.” Zack met his father’s eyes, trying to match his depth of conviction.
“I’ll pray for you. Every day.” His mother pressed a damp kiss to his forehead before following his father out of the room.
Fuck. He’d done it. He’d really done it. He squished his eyes shut. He was not going to cry over this. He lay there, heart pounding, eyes shut, mind racing, for what felt like hours.
“You asleep?”
For the briefest of seconds, Zack thought it might be his father, come back with a change of heart, but he cracked open an eye to find the senior chief standing before him. He tried to ignore the fresh burn in his throat. “No, sir. I’m awake.”
“Good.” The senior chief held up a reusable grocery bag. “Heard you’re getting sprung tomorrow. Thought I’d bring you by some fresh clothes and your phone.”
His phone. Pike. Stupid how happy a little hunk of plastic and silicone made him. “Thank you, sir.”
“It’s dead as a doornail, but I grabbed one of Dorrell’s chargers for you. Want me to plug it in?”
“Yes, please.”
The senior chief got the phone charging next to Zack’s bed, then settled himself in one of the visitor’s chairs. “You put me in a damn hard position, Nelson.”
“Sorry?” Fuck. Last thing Zack needed was one more person mad at him.
“LT called me on my way over here, said we’re going to meet with you Thursday morning. I assume you know what that’s over?”
“Yes, sir.” Damn. Apollo and the paperwork gods worked fast.
“Zack.” It was the first time the older man had used his first name. “Why couldn’t you just tell me? You think this is really some kind of surprise to me?”
“No, sir.” Zack could tell by the other man’s stony expression that it wasn’t, and if he was honest with himself, he could admit that the senior chief had probably suspected since he’d met Pike, and the senior chief hadn’t really batted an eye at Pike.
“My job is to keep my enlisted men alive, you understand me? And I can’t do that if you don’t talk to me, don’t trust me with the truth.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“You’ve got to trust your command leadership. And if you can’t, we’ve failed you some fundamental way.”
“I should have talked to you sooner,” Zack admitted. “You’ve been nothing but good to me this whole time, letting me stay—” He stopped short as a thought popped into his head. “You suspected something was going on even then, didn’t you?”
“I’m not a stupid man. I knew there was a reason you wanted off base. And it’s on me that I didn’t pin you down, make you tell me everything. Nelson, you could have died out there. And that would be on my shoulders.”
“It was a freak thing. Not anyone’s fault.”
The senior chief snorted. “And you know what the worst of it was?”
“Um...” Zack almost didn’t want to guess. “What?”
“I wanted to call that roommate of yours. You were dying and I needed to do something. But he wasn’t listed anywhere on your paperwork, and because you hadn’t trusted me, I wasn’t sure whether I’d be leading him into a hornet’s nest of a family situation or even if you’d want him notified. That’s a hell of a position to leave me—and him—in.”
“I know,” Zack said, grinding his teeth. “Believe me, I know. I fu—messed up. And he’s mad at me too.”
“That’s hardly reassuring.” The senior chief’s laugh was a harsh bark. “You messing up what might be the best thing in your life isn’t exactly what I want to hear. I like that man.”
“Me too.” Zack had to whisper to keep his voice steady. “And I’m trying to make this all right for him. For me. For us. For the team.”
“That’s a lot of right.” He sighed and nodded as if he were coming to some conclusion. “And I suppose this meeting with the LT is a good step along that process. I’ve got your back.”
“Thank you, sir. That means...a lot.” He barely managed to keep his voice from breaking.
“Now, tomorrow. I’m going to pick you up when they discharge you—”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Nelson. We’re done arguing.” He hit Zack with a hard stare. “Only question is whether I’m taking you to my house so Cherice can fuss over you or taking you to your place?”
His place. His and Pike’s. Home. “My place.”
“You sure you can make things okay with Pike? I don’t want you alone when you’re still recovering.”
“I’m going to fix things.” And for the first time, Zack let himself really believe that. Of all the steps he’d taken in the past forty-eight hours, walking into that house was going to be the hardest, but no w
ay was he letting Pike go without a fight.
* * *
Pike slammed back his third soda of the day as he booted up the classroom’s computer and projector, trying to find some energy before his last Monday class. He checked his phone for the hundredth time. Nothing from Zack. He’d had updates from Ryan all weekend that Zack was improving. He was due to be released today or tomorrow, and most notably, his parents had left yesterday. But Zack hadn’t sent him a message through Ryan or any other means requesting his presence. Maybe they really were well and truly over.
That thought made him choke on his soda. Yesterday he kept expecting a message that it was safe to visit. But you’re the one who told him to make a decision. And Zack was the one who’d pushed him away when he heard his parents... Fuck. This was all such a mess. The house had seemed so large and empty when he got back from Palo Alto without Zack there to fill it, a different loss than when he was away on training.
“Professor Reynolds, where were you Friday?” Suzanne was five minutes early, as usual, but to his surprise when he looked up from messing with the computer Rosemary and Jose were also there.
“I...” Oh crap. He hadn’t prepped for this question. “A friend was sick and...” I dealt with my hurt over not being able to see him by fleeing to the Bay Area for the weekend and interviewing for a job that I’m still not sure whether or not I want. Yeah, I’m a beacon of maturity over here.
“It’s okay.” Rosemary, bless her, bailed him out. “We missed you, that’s all.”
“Oh. Thanks. Professor Hu said she took attendance and then gave you bonus worksheets?”
“Yeah, but I’m still confused about correlation and r-value,” Jose tossed in. “And the homework wasn’t any help.”
Stupid book. Pike turned to the section about correlation and groaned. He had a whole lecture outlined and he kind of hated it already.
“My whole dissertation was on finding significant correlations, and even I’m confused by the book,” he admitted.
“Hey, yeah, Professor Hu said that you really did research on War Elf?” asked Tommy, the kid who always gamed in class. The rest of the class had filtered in, and it was time for class to start, but Pike would rather talk his research than the text.
“Yup.” He turned to the board. “Want to see what I mean about finding correlation? We can consider user habits as a data set.”
He came up with several examples for the class on the fly, trying to discuss the concept of r-value in real-world scenarios. For once, the class was full of questions, and they had a spirited discussion about the difference between causation and correlation and how even an r-value of +1 didn’t mean causation. He was in the midst of laying out another problem for the class when he noticed Professor Crabtree in the back corner. The older woman had been at Professor Hu’s party and mainly taught upper-level college math classes.
Oh heck. His peer evaluation. That was all his day needed. But he was already far off plan. The only thing to do was to continue his example and try to get back on track after this problem. But the class had a lot of questions and the next thing he knew, stopwatch kid, Dwayne, was saying it was four thirty. Time to wrap up and remind them they had a quiz on Wednesday.
Pike watched the class file out, several students giving Professor Crabtree curious glances. She waited until the room was empty to approach Pike at the podium.
“Now, that was...different.”
Cringing, he rubbed his jaw. “We usually follow the book more, I pr—”
“No, you misunderstand me. That was lovely. Spirited. Engaging. And your class clearly adores you.”
“They do?” Pike blinked.
“Oh yes. Cynthia says students are already asking about what you’ll be teaching next term, jockeying to get into your sections.”
Now he cringed for a different reason. If he took the War Elf job, there wouldn’t be any next term for him. The students would have someone new. And why that made his stomach ache, he couldn’t say.
“I can’t wait to see where your research takes you. If you get the full-time position, you’ll be in line for some funding in that direction.”
“That’s...nice.” Pike didn’t really know this woman, but maybe that was a good thing. He needed a shot of honesty right then. “You really think I’ve got a shot at that?”
“Absolutely. You’ve got a gift for teaching.”
“Thanks.” Pike tried to keep the surprise out of his voice.
“Your students know you care, and that makes them want to try, makes them want to come to class. That’s the hardest thing in the world to accomplish—to be able to care and motivate? That’s special.”
Special. Professor Crabtree was talking about students, but an image of Zack sprang up in Pike’s brain. Did Zack know that he cared? He’d made it clear that he wanted—needed—Zack to make some hard choices, but had he done enough to let him know that he cared? Could he have done a better job giving Zack a reason to come out? He’d been so wary of getting his heart broken that he hadn’t really shared that heart with Zack. If he wanted Zack motivated to change, maybe he needed to step up as well. Take a risk.
“Thanks,” he said absently to the professor. They talked a bit more, but even a stack of cash couldn’t get Pike to recall what was said. His thoughts were all jumbled up—the War Elf job versus teaching, the idea that maybe he didn’t suck at teaching as much as he’d thought, and the realization that maybe he hadn’t done enough to convince Zack to fight for them.
That last one burned. He’d been so busy running away from what Zack hadn’t done that he’d let fear keep him from saying the only words that really mattered. Still in a fog, he gathered up his stuff, checked his phone out of habit and almost dropped it when he saw that he had a message.
Zack.
And typical for him, the message was short and to the point. I’m coming home.
Home. Pike’s pulse found some new turbo gear and his hand shook. Maybe the universe did hand out second chances after all.
On my way, he replied, resisting the temptation to type the words that were clogging his senses. Not yet. But soon.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Zack wasn’t used to being helpless. But days on end of being in a hospital bed had left him wobbly as a toddler learning to walk. The hospital insisted on wheeling him out to the senior chief’s truck, and while he’d protested stridently, secretly he was glad to skip the long walk through the hospital. Last thing he needed was face-planting in front of everyone.
Other than his upcoming meeting with his commander, he was on medical leave for the next two weeks or so until he was cleared by the doctors to return to duty. He had appointments with physical therapy to work on getting his strength back up before he got that clearance, and he couldn’t help thinking about Apollo’s husband and everything the lieutenant had lost. Not going to happen to us. He couldn’t lose Pike.
Not going to happen. Ever.
He’d agonized over what to text Pike. He’d written and deleted two dozen texts all Sunday, finally making himself send something when the doctors finally cleared him to leave late in the day Monday.
“Cherice made soup for you,” the senior chief said as they pulled into the driveway at Pike and Zack’s place. “You’re sure about this? You’re still pretty weak. I’d be happy for you to stay with us.”
“I’m fine.” Zack sat up straighter, tried to exude more energy than he actually felt. “I’ll be back on duty in no time.”
“I’m more concerned with you landing on your ass tonight.” The senior chief’s voice was dry but not without humor as he helped Zack into the house. Fuck. His tired bones felt as if he were eighty. He pulled away from the senior chief’s steadying arm and forced himself to walk straight, unlock the door.
And head straight for the sofa. Tiny victories and
all that.
“I’m going to put the soup in the fridge and bring you a big water.” The senior chief headed to the kitchen.
“Thanks,” Zack called after him.
“That guy of yours doesn’t show up or doesn’t stick around, I want you to call me.” The older man came back into the living room, frown on his face. “No way should you be alone tonight.”
“He’s on his way.” Zack’s hand tightened around his phone, as if that could make Pike appear faster. He wasn’t sure he could handle it if Pike said he was too late, if it wasn’t enough to keep him. That stupid fear had kept him from texting yesterday because the only thing worse than missing Pike would be learning he wasn’t coming back ever again.
“All right, then. Call if you need anything. And I mean anything.” The senior chief headed to the door.
“I will.” His throat tightened up. He had no clue what Thursday would bring, but the senior chief’s support made Zack’s shoulder muscles unkink a bit. He’d deal. Whatever was coming, he’d deal.
The senior chief shut the door softly behind him, and Zack leaned back against the couch, giving in to his exhaustion. Hell, just taking his shoes off and putting his legs up made him sleepy. He let himself drift off, a dreamless nap.
“Hey.” A soft touch on his shoulder roused him from the cobwebs of his mind, and he had to blink, make sure it was really Pike there kneeling next to the sofa, really his hand on Zack.
“You came home,” Zack said stupidly.
“Always.” Pike gave him a lopsided smile. “And hey, someone has to feed the demons.” He gestured at the end of the sofa, where both of the cats lay on Zack’s feet.
“Think I could still operate a can opener.” Zack stretched and gently freed his feet.
“I should have come by the hospital yesterday,” Pike said. “After your parents left, I mean. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to—”
“I wanted you to. Kept trying to think of the perfect text.”
Off Base Page 21
