by Regan Black
“Hello?” Nicole regarded him curiously. “You were lost in thought. Is everything all right?”
“Sorry.” Giving her a rueful grin, he hoped that would be enough of an apology. “I do hope they finally figure out who killed Mabry. Once the sheriff’s office arrests someone for the crime, everyone can finally put this behind them and take steps to move forward in their lives.”
“Agreed,” she replied. “They need to make an arrest quickly, because Theresa won’t find peace until they do.”
He couldn’t help but admire the way she continued to worry about her former mother-in-law, despite the awful way the woman treated her.
“I have a bit of news of my own,” he said. “I found a therapist. I made a bunch of calls while you were gone. I lucked out because he had a cancellation and I managed to get an appointment tomorrow afternoon.”
“Wow.” Her gaze searched his face. “That’s great.”
“I sure hope so.” He wasn’t sure what else to say, so he settled for watching his son sleep.
“Will you let me know if I can do anything to help you?” she asked, her voice tender.
“Sure,” he responded. “But I have a feeling that this is one thing I’ll have to deal with on my own.”
“I don’t think so.” The firmness in her voice had him raising his head to meet her gaze. “You need to understand one thing, Kyle Benning. I’m here for you now. You never have to deal with any problem alone from now on. You got that?”
“I got it.” Her words made him ridiculously happy. He grinned at her, loving the flash of humor in her eyes when she grinned back. “And ditto,” he added. “Anything I can help you with, I will.”
“Well, there is something I need right now. Do you mind if I make a few phone calls of my own while you’ve got the baby?” Nicole asked. “I want to see if I can line up a few contractors and get some solid estimates. The sooner I can get those repairs started, the better.”
He heard what she didn’t say. The quicker she could get her house fixed, the quicker she could move back home, away from him. Though he’d known her leaving was inevitable, he hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.
In response, he laid his head back and closed his eyes. “Go do what you have to do. Jacob and I are going to just chill.”
Even though she didn’t respond, he felt it when she left the room.
* * *
The next day, Kyle rose with a renewed sense of purpose. He got things done, always had, even before he’d joined the rangers. This PTSD would be no different. He’d set his mind to the task and conquer it, no matter what it took. Talking to a therapist would be the first step in the right direction.
When he walked into the kitchen, following what smelled like bacon, he found Nicole had cooked up them both an elaborate breakfast. “Hey there,” she greeted him. The warmth of her smile started a fire low in his belly. “I’ve made scrambled eggs, bacon and English muffins. I even cut up a cantaloupe I found in the fridge. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. Who would mind having a beautiful woman make them breakfast?”
Though she blushed at the compliment, she grimaced. “It’s all your food, so it’s not much. I can’t repay you with money, but I thought I could fix you a nice meal as a way of thanking you.”
“You don’t have to repay me,” he said, meaning it. “I wasn’t able to be here for you while you were pregnant or when you gave birth to our son. That food smells delicious. Let’s eat.”
After they’d finished, he insisted on doing the dishes while she took care of Jacob. While he washed and dried, she let him know that later in the day she planned to meet one of the contractors she’d contacted.
“I’ll try to meet you there,” he offered. “But I have that counseling session and I’m not a hundred percent sure if I’ll be back in time.”
“I’ll be fine,” she told him, her voice confident. “I’m only getting estimates at this stage. Once I have three, I’m hoping you can help me go over them and decide which one’s the best.”
Though he nodded, he really wanted to tell her she didn’t need to hire anyone to work on her house—she had him. He’d worked for a custom home builder all through high school and had most of the skills necessary to make her repairs. But since she seemed so determined to take care of this herself, he decided he’d wait until after she had her estimates.
He left while Nicole was bathing Jacob. He’d have to drive all the way to Tyler, which would take about forty-five minutes. All the way there, he played the radio at full blast, smooth jazz, which he hated, but figured it would be more soothing than metal or rock. He’d hoped the long drive would help calm his jittery nerves, but it didn’t.
The therapist’s office was small, in a nondescript brick building on a side street. He parked his truck and sat for a moment, his stomach all twisted up in knots. He wasn’t sure he could do this. Talk to a total stranger about his deepest shame—that he alone had lived while the rest of his unit had not.
Only the thought of Nicole and their son enabled him to get out of the truck and walk inside the building.
After checking in, he took a seat and waited. It took every bit of his concentration to keep himself from jiggling his leg—a nervous habit he’d vanquished in the middle of basic training. The fact that it had come back didn’t surprise him. Nothing about himself shocked him much anymore.
When the door opened and a stocky man with a buzz cut stepped out to greet him, Kyle wasn’t sure what to think. This guy looked exactly like one of the first sergeants he’d known back in Afghanistan.
“I’m Dr. Morrison,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Kyle Benning.” They shook.
Following the doctor back to his room, Kyle eyed the reclining couch and chose an armchair. He saw the doctor notice his choice.
“Why don’t you tell me why you’re here today.” Dr. Morrison suggested.
Kyle had been expecting—and dreading this question. All during the long drive, he’d considered what he might say, rehearsing and abandoning several scenarios. Now that the time had come to actually speak, he couldn’t. When he opened his mouth, no sound came out.
After a moment, the doctor took pity on him. “Let me guess. You’re having trouble sleeping. A lot of flashbacks. Night sweats. Loud noises are bad. You’re lashing out at family and friends. Shall I go on?”
Kyle shook his head. “No need. You’ve pretty much hit the nail right on the head. Based on that, I guess what’s been happening to me is pretty common?”
“Unfortunately, yes. But by seeking help, you’ve got a head start on conquering this. A lot of people seem to feel like they can do this on their own.” Leaning back in his chair, Dr. Morrison gave a friendly smile. “You’re not alone, Kyle. I’m going to help you get through this.”
After his hour was up, Kyle drove home, trying to process that the doctor had said. Of course, after Kyle finally decided to open up, Dr. Morrison had done more listening than anything else. Kyle told him everything, starting with his team receiving the assignment and ending with coming home to learn he not only had a son, but that Nicole had married another man.
Nothing was resolved, no solutions were reached and the only suggestion the doctor made was to consider opening up more to Nicole. He’d said doing so would not make Kyle seem weak, as Kyle feared, but would invite Nicole to share the experience. Telling her a bit about what haunted him and why would better enable her to help him.
While Kyle wasn’t sure he was one hundred percent on board with this idea, he agreed—warily—to at least give it a try. He hadn’t confessed to the doctor that he was afraid of how she’d react. If she knew the truth of what was inside him, she’d learn he wasn’t the man she thought he was. Kyle didn’t know how he’d live with that.
One thing he’d come to understand was that civilians had a prettifi
ed idea of war. On some level, he supposed they knew there was blood and death and destruction. People blown apart, lives forever ruined, altered and often ended. But it was all in the abstract. Not gut-wrenchingly personal like it was for a soldier who’d been there.
Share with Nicole? Honestly, he wasn’t sure she could handle it. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to have to.
But he knew he had to try. He’d committed himself to trying to fix his problem. He couldn’t do it if he went about it half-assed.
* * *
Nicole had been in her house only once since the fire and that had been to meet with the fire department and to retrieve extra bottles and supplies. The explosion and resulting fire had taken out Bill’s office and most of the remaining bedrooms, since they were all in the top floor of the house. The master bedroom, which sat directly above Bill’s office, had not only been partially destroyed, but half of the roof was gone. The insurance adjustor and a roofing company he worked with had put up temporary tarps, but they weren’t meant to last long.
A section of the back wall had been blown out and plywood had been nailed up to seal the gap.
From the front, except for the roof tarps, the house looked normal. She’d kept the alarm service and activated the alarm, just in case someone got an idea that looting would be a good idea. Not that she had anything of great value—just the normal household electronics.
Once the house had been repaired, she planned to put it on the market. She wanted something smaller, less expensive and more manageable. Something similar to the house Kyle rented. In fact, she’d experienced more happiness, felt more joy, in that small structure than she ever had in this elaborate mini-mansion of brick, wood and stone.
Standing in the perfectly landscaped front yard, she stared at the place where she’d lived for almost all of the last year. It had never felt like home, even though Bill had purchased it two days after their wedding. She’d had no say in choosing the house they’d share and Bill had told her he didn’t particularly care if she liked it or not; the house had been a good investment. Now, since she hoped to get a good price for it, she hoped he’d been right.
Now when she looked at the house, she felt unsettled. Even if she could afford to live here, she knew she’d never feel safe inside these walls again.
Shaking off her rapidly sinking mood, she carried Jacob in his infant seat and walked through the double front doors into the foyer. The upstairs had suffered the most severe damage and the fire department had blocked off the stairs with tape, warning her the floor wasn’t stable enough for her to walk on.
After the fire, everything had been covered in soot and ash. Smoke had left its inky stain on upholstery and curtains, walls and ceiling and floors. The insurance adjuster had said he was including payment for some kind of super cleaning service to come in.
Walking from room to room, she realized there was very little here that she couldn’t live without. Like the house, Bill had purchased all of the furniture, with the exception of Jacob’s crib and dresser. She hadn’t even been allowed any say in the artwork or decorations—Bill had hired an expensive interior decorator to do all of that. The end result was she’d always felt like a guest in her own house.
Consulting her watch, she realized the contractor was late. Half an hour to be exact. She checked her phone but there were no messages. She decided to give him a few more minutes before calling to make sure he hadn’t forgotten her.
Again she roamed the house, stopping outside the room that had once been Bill’s office. A large abstract painting of a female nude, one of Bill’s personal favorites, had been destroyed in the fire. The frame and glass had broken, and fire had consumed enough of it that if Nicole hadn’t known, she’d have had no idea what the painting depicted.
How she hated that thing. And that paperweight on the desk, the one that Bill had gleefully called “vagina in a bottle.” She picked it up and heaved it at the painting, taking just a tiny bit of satisfaction in the shattering of what little glass remained.
And then the painting fell to the floor. Behind it was some kind of wall safe she hadn’t even been aware existed.
What the… Was this what whoever had broken in been looking for?
Gingerly using her shoes to move aside most of the glass pieces, she approached the safe. Of course it was locked. And she didn’t know the combination. However, she did know Bill. He’d never had a good memory, so he tended to use the same passwords over and over. His birthday and his mother’s birthday.
First she tried his date of birth. Nope. Next she tried his mom’s and was rewarded with the locks clicking open. Heart pounding, she hesitated. What would she find inside? Drugs? Cash? Guns? Maybe even all three.
The sound of the front door opening made her freeze. She’d set the alarm to beep when any doors were opened, even when it wasn’t armed, like now. Hurriedly, she closed the safe and rehung the picture before picking up her son and heading back to the main part of the house. She couldn’t wait until her life could get back to something resembling normal.
“I’m glad you could make it,” she said, as she rounded the corner into the main living room. But instead of the contractor, Theresa Mabry stood staring at her.
“Expecting someone else?” Theresa asked, her lip curling. “Because you should know, most of the construction companies in Anniversary are personal friends of mine. I’ve put the word out and I don’t think you’ll find anyone willing to work with you.”
Heart pounding, Nicole worked hard to remain calm. Her former mother-in-law seemed out of it, almost as if drugged. “What are you doing here, Theresa?”
“What am I doing here?” Theresa repeated. “What am I doing in the house my son bought before you were even married to him? How dare you ask me that. I have more right to be here than you do.”
Not sure how to respond to that, Nicole said nothing.
Theresa’s gaze drifted past, locking on Jacob. The baby was awake, waving his hands and making cute little sounds.
“There’s the little bastard,” Theresa commented, her gaze hard. “I can’t believe I actually thought he was my grandson. He looks nothing like my Bill.”
“I think you need to leave.”
“Leave? Ha.” Theresa snorted as she paced back and forth in small circles. Her mouth worked, as if she tried to hold back strong emotions. “Why don’t you try and make me?” And then, to Nicole’s alarm, she pulled a black pistol from her purse, clicked off the safety and smiled.
“What are you doing, Theresa?” Nicole’s voice shook. “Put that away. I know you’re grieving. You’re not thinking straight.”
“But I am,” Theresa drawled, raising her weapon. “Right now I’m thinking clearer than I have in days. My life is over, ruined. I’ve lost my son, my husband, my business. All because of you. Everything that has happened to me happened because of you.” Theresa’s hand shook, but she continued to keep the pistol pointed at Nicole.
Horrified, Nicole tried to think of something to say. Something that would make her former mother-in-law see reason. If Theresa killed her, that would leave Jacob without a mother. “Hurting me won’t bring Bill back,” she said softly. “Or change anything, other than making you a murderer.”
“Maybe not.” Theresa shrugged. “But I’m thinking killing you and that brat of yours will make me feel a hell of a lot better.”
“What?” Nicole straightened, blood roaring in her ears. “You’d hurt an innocent little baby?”
Theresa didn’t respond. Instead, she tilted her head and eyed Nicole. “Why’d you have to marry my son? Why? Not only did you take my boy away from me, but you drove him to do bad things, awful things. He would never have gotten into drugs and other crazy stuff if it weren’t for you.”
“Take your boy away from you?” Her best bet would be to keep Theresa talking. “You mean because I married him?”
“
Oh, that too.” Squinting until her eyes were slits, Theresa shook her head. “But you killed him. The sheriff might not get it, but really, how dumb do you have to be? I know you killed Bill.”
“Why would I do that?” Nicole was pretty sure Theresa had moved way beyond logic and reason, but figured she had to try.
“Because you found out he had other women. And I’m betting you knew about the drug trafficking and wanted a cut of the money, didn’t you?”
“That’d be a bit of a contradiction, right there,” Nicole pointed out. “If, as you say, I drove him to do all these awful things, why would I kill him?”
Before Theresa could respond, the alarm chimed, signaling the back door had opened. Relief flooded Nicole. Maybe the contractor had, despite what Theresa claimed, decided to make an appearance after all.
Instead, a black ball of fur streaked into the room.
“Gus,” Nicole exclaimed.
As if he sensed the danger, the big dog placed himself in between Nicole and Theresa. Most important, he blocked Jacob with his body. Tears of relief welled up in Nicole’s eyes. Because where Gus went, Kyle followed.
“Where did that dog come from?” Theresa demanded. “I hate dogs.”
“Don’t you dare hurt Gus,” Nicole began.
Right then Kyle walked into the room. He took in the situation with a glance, placing himself between the weapon and Nicole. “Put the gun down, Theresa,” he ordered. “You don’t want to do this.”
Looking from Kyle to Gus to Nicole, Theresa cursed. Now she seemed unsure of where to direct her gun. At Nicole or the dog or Kyle.
Her attention wavered for just a second and she brought the pistol up, so it was pointed at a spot above Nicole’s head. Locking eyes with Nicole, Kyle barked the word down. At the same time, he leaped forward at Theresa, knocking her to the floor while Nicole dropped and rolled toward her son and Gus.
