Caroline remained trapped in her thoughts, muscle memory and routine guiding her from Christine’s apartment to her own. Maybe she passed people, maybe they said something. Would Jack be home or would he be alone in his office watching the sun set, pondering his role and his decisions? She needn’t worry, because he was sitting on the couch when she got home, a glass of bourbon in his hand. Naturally.
“Hi,” she said softly.
He tilted his head toward the seat next to him. She dutifully sat down, waiting anxiously during those first few uneasy moments until he brought his arms around her.
“Hi,” he echoed.
“Long day.”
“Yeah.”
Maybe they could break out full sentences after he finished a few more drinks. “How’d the meeting go?” she asked.
He polished off his drink. “I don’t want to talk about that now. Sit with me a while.”
Classic avoidance. It couldn’t last forever. And silent contemplation coupled with affection didn’t seem so awful. It was completely dark by the time Jack spoke again.
“How about a twilight trip to the beach?”
“The actual beach? The one a few miles down the road that isn’t on the base?”
“We can take our bodyguards,” Jack said, then winked at her. “If they keep their distance.”
“Angling to do a recreation of that scene in From Here to Eternity?”
“That sounds wonderful but I thought you’d like to see the ocean. We can take a walk. No big deal.”
The only thing more damaging than when they said horrible things to each other was when they flat-out lied. But she would honor his request. There had to be a method to his madness. “A taste of freedom,” she said.
“Yes. We’ve been cooped up for too long. You deserve a break.”
Caroline sent a text to Gig, giving him the scoop. “Then let’s go.”
*****
They stayed there for hours. True to Jack’s plan, Gig, Crunch, and Jonesie barely gave them a second glance, focused mostly on patrolling the edge of the beach. Almost total privacy. Caroline ran into the water and almost fell down, and Jack laughed. She pushed him in and he pulled her with him, and they were soaked. She chased him across the dunes and they ended up covered in sand. Never once did they touch the third rail. The dreaded discussion. It would have to happen eventually. But there was a heaviness there, the constant drip of dread that hung on every word they uttered. The weight of the inevitable. The two of them hadn’t abandoned their political roots completely, because they were damn good at ducking and dodging.
Jack brushed the sand off her back, and she turned around. “That’s a lost cause, darling.”
“I have to try anyway. Don’t want to mess up the Jeep.”
He hated borrowing the vehicles on the base. If it had been sunny out, he would have suggested they walk. “Why do you care?”
“Old habits die hard, I guess.” He pulled her to him. “I want to tell you something.”
His voice had changed, and not in a good way. “What is it?”
“I came here,” he said softly. “This very spot, right after I arrived on the base. At night. No one knew I was here.”
That sounded ominous. “Why?”
He closed his eyes. “I missed you so fucking much. So I came here to…I don’t know. Find peace? Understand? I had my gun with me, and-” His voice broke.
Definitely ominous. The protective glass around the alarm was shattered. “What were you going to do, Jack?”
“I thought about how much I wanted to see you again. They’d brought us those records a day or two earlier and I knew – I thought you hadn’t made it, and I-”
She hugged him. “Oh, Monty.”
“I threw the gun into the ocean to be rid of it, but it wasn’t enough. I imagined wading into the water and…letting it take me away.”
She was surprised he hadn’t complained, she was holding onto him so tightly. “I would have done the same thing, in your shoes.”
He wasn’t letting go of her. He just stared out at the water, reliving that painful moment. Was that why he had insisted they go to the beach? So he could wallow in his misery before they both dug an even deeper hole? Their weak attempt at date night hadn’t turned out nearly as romantically as Caroline had hoped. She didn’t like where this conversation was headed.
“I attempted to clear my head, listen to the waves crashing against the rocks, try my damndest to figure out what the fuck I was doing.” He kicked at the sand. “And I wept. In the dark. Alone. When the sun started to rise I went back to my apartment and curled up on the couch, wishing I’d done a million things differently.”
Caroline ran her hands through his hair. “Monty-”
“I still had your gun. I couldn’t toss it. I saw those initials etched into the bottom and it was one more piece of you I couldn’t quite let go. I wanted to be with you, so badly. I knew there was only one way to do it.”
“Stop, Jack,” she whispered.
He lowered his head and finally, finally put his arms around her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I sat there for hours, holding your gun in my hands. Testing its weight. I missed you so much and I-”
She didn’t want him to say it. He’d suffered enough. “Don’t.” Caroline put her fingers to his lips. “What stopped you?”
“Natalie knocked on the door.”
“I guess that’s another one I owe her for.”
He pulled away, ever so slightly, his eyes drifting toward the water. He kept his arm around her, squeezing her shoulder occasionally. Caroline leaned in closer and didn’t speak.
“We’ve been through a lot, you and I,” Jack said quietly.
“Yeah.”
“And the girls, and Christine. All of us. We’ve made our sacrifices, borne our burdens, come out the best we could.”
Caroline sniffled, nodding.
“Made a lot of tough decisions.”
Where was he going with this? Was she supposed to respond? She leaned in closer.
“We’ve made those decisions, but we can walk away from them if we want. If you want.”
Would that be the proper thing to do? Walk away? They had sacrificed a lot; maybe it was time for someone else to take the risk. What would it mean if they did? What example would be set if they abandoned the cause? “I can walk away,” she whispered.
Jack swept his thumb across her cheek. “No. You know you can’t. You have to go. It’s the right thing to do.”
“I thought you said this struggle wasn’t worth risking me.”
“I know damn well what I said and you know damn well why I said it.”
“Jack-”
“Caroline, you’ve done so much. Maybe too much. You are truly the most courageous woman I have ever met. That isn’t lip service. I mean it. You know in your heart that if you don’t do this, you’ll regret it. You don’t want to spend your whole life looking over your shoulder, wondering if you can ever move on, holding onto hope that someday you can go back home. This is bigger than politics, bigger than democracy, bigger than us.”
“But Chrissy and the girls-”
“They’ll understand.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you, Caroline. So goddamn much I can’t even wrap my head around it. I love you enough to let you go if I have to. To make the world safe for our children, for our grandchildren. Because I know you’re tough enough to do it.”
All of her uncertainty boiled over. She’d talked a good talk. Pretended she wasn’t completely terrified. Acted like it was no big deal, that it was an easy decision to make in defense of freedom. Telling herself the standard line, the kind she’d often spout in speeches. Valorous people always answered the call to sacrifice. To do less would be to betray her values in the most callous way possible. On and on…except she’d done it so many damn times she wasn’t sure she had any gas left in her tank. Caroline started to cry. “I don’t k
now if we’re making the right choice.”
Jack tipped her chin up. “It’s not about choices. Democracy is the lifeblood of America. And you believe in the system, enough to defend it down to your very last breath. All of your ideals, your hopes and dreams…they cease to matter if you abandon them in your darkest hour. We have to see this through to the end.”
“And if we fail?”
“This is our best shot, sweetheart. We have to take it.”
We. Not you. A subtle difference, but an important one. “It’s a hell of a chance,” Caroline said. “Putting myself out there like that.”
“It’s a sacrifice,” Jack noted. “One I don’t want to make.”
Maybe some sacrifices were worth the risk. “This will end it either way.”
He picked up a handful of sand. “Our advisors and I were able to hash a lot of things out after you left.”
Her husband was going to break himself open even more and she didn’t want to stop him. “In a good way?”
“A vote was taken but we have veto power.”
“The results?”
“You know the results. Let’s not fool each other into thinking we live in a world of puppies and lollipops. Those men care about you but they respect you more.”
It must have been unanimous. Interesting. “Was there a healthy debate?”
“Mostly about how to get you out of Washington without anyone getting killed.”
“Is that possible?”
“We’ve planned it well. Our allies will help with protecting and preserving vital avenues of commerce and transportation. We’ll smuggle a few troops in to back you up. Our window is narrow, so we’re going to throw it all at the wall.”
There were a lot of uncertainties. A lot of hope. And not a lot of details. Hopefully he’d clue her in once things were solidified. But they had legitimate help, experienced military leaders both foreign and domestic. Caroline trusted their judgment.
“We can make it work,” she said. “They’ll get me out.”
“I have every confidence they will.”
She tried not to let her voice shake. If this was really going to happen, she’d need every ounce of courage. “You don’t really want me to go, do you?”
“No. I do not. I am going to do every damn thing in my power to make sure you get back in one piece.”
“We need to talk to the girls.”
“I think you should talk to Marguerite first. Sophie’s a bit more difficult. Mo is mature enough to handle a little more nuanced discussion.”
He’d phrased his response that way on purpose. “I’m flying solo on this one?”
“Yes. It’s not my place, sweetheart.”
But you’ll be all they have if – She didn’t want to complete that thought. “Are you sure? You know how they feel about you.”
“And they know how I feel about them. You and Marguerite have discussed the rough stuff before. It’s better if you handle it yourself. We can sit down as a family afterward.”
He wasn’t saying that as a copout. It was a subtle show of admiration, a nod to her bond with her children. “Okay,” she said, brushing the sand off her hands. “Let’s go home.”
*****
“This is a lot,” Marguerite said, taking a sip of coffee.
“You don’t sound terribly surprised.”
“Come on, mom. You dropped by before the sun even came up. Whatever you told me was bound to be important. This isn’t completely unexpected. You being you and all.”
Caroline wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. “You seem remarkably calm.”
“I’m not. This is going on the list of things I’m destined to discuss with a therapist.”
“Is it a long list?”
“I had to buy a second composition book to keep track.”
Touché. “Chrissy is having a bit of a time. Jack says he wants me to go but, well-”
“Do you want to go?”
That question kept coming up. She never knew if the answer would change. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“That should be the most important factor in your decision, I’d say.”
So unruffled. Christine had been right. Her daughter was a rock, despite the sardonic humor. Goddamn. And she had to be deflecting a little. How could she not? “It seems so unfair for me to ask you not to be mad at me for this but-”
“I’m not mad,” Marguerite said quietly. “I know it’s complicated and I know that Jack will do everything in his power to make sure this comes out all right.”
She had so much confidence in the two of them. Too much confidence. Arguably more than her sister would have. “Feef-”
“Sophie will learn to understand.”
“I’ve already asked so much of the two of you. I’m sending you down the unknown path again, only it might be worse this time.”
Marguerite put her arm around Caroline. “Mom, I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m brushing this off, that I’m lying so you’ll go and not worry about it. The truth is, I want to be mad. I want to hate it. I maybe even want to hate you a little for putting us in this position. But I can’t, because I know you’re doing this so Soph and I can go home again.” She swallowed hard. “Even if it’s without you.”
What an amazing kid. With any luck, she’d keep guiding her sister down the same road. “That means you have a heart. And a conscience. Which means I did something right.”
“You did. You and daddy and Jack and Christine. I just have one request.”
Caroline had a hunch what it would be. “And what’s that?”
“I want to go with the troops to Washington.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“I’ve gone through the training. I belong in combat. Talk to Major Flaherty.”
She wasn’t about to let her daughter in on the secret – that Keith was convinced Marguerite was meant to be an officer with the right amount of time and training. “None of this makes any sense if you run into the fire after me,” Caroline said. “I’m doing this for you, not with you. There is, unfortunately, a difference.”
“I know,” Marguerite said. “The curse of being raised by a mother who got caught up in the idealism of public service. Besides, you’re going to come back. You’ll find a way, even if the plan goes to shit.”
Marguerite had much more faith than she did. “I still don’t know how I ended up with a kid like you.”
“Good genes.” She kissed Caroline’s cheek. “I really am proud to be your spawn. And that’s never going to change.”
Spawn. She was definitely her mother’s sassy daughter. “You will never be as proud of me as I am of you.” Caroline held Marguerite tighter. “I love you so much, Mo Mo. This isn’t easy for me to do. Talking about this with you, thinking about what I’m going to tell Sophie. I’ve put you through so much and I’m doing it again and-”
“You have to do it,” Marguerite interjected. “It’s not up for debate. We’ll keep saying it if it helps you process your decision better. But you’re not making it on your own.”
Such insight. “I know.”
“Sophie will get it. I’ll work on her. So will Chrissy and Jack.”
“I’m doing this so you’ll have a future.”
“I know,” Marguerite said quietly.
Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. The sob crawled up her throat anyway. “Make it count, Mo. Okay? Make all of this matter.”
Her daughter threw her arms around her again. “That’s one thing you will never have to worry about. Let’s go talk to Soph.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
They had a few days. Maybe a week. They wanted time to prepare but didn’t want the window left open too wide. Every day Santos remained in office put millions at risk. The citizenry was growing restless; it was no longer clear exactly what or who they were protesting, but it definitely wasn’t Santos. Strange how reality could be bent to serve specific purposes. Caroline reminded herself to have faith in her fellow Ameri
cans, that they’d step up when the time was right. Repression made for a hopeless populace but a revolutionary spark could turn things around in a heartbeat.
Her children were taking it remarkably well. They’d been spending almost every waking moment together, along with Christine. Caroline had said her piece to Jones, Gig, and Crunch, who remained tight-lipped about their involvement in any plans for the liberation of the capital. Caroline’s main focus was making sure she was as mentally and physically strong as possible, which meant confronting her fears. Best to start with one of the easier ones.
“They’re going to cuff me,” she told Jack, after they returned from one of their workouts.
“I hope that’s all they do.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to react.”
Jack put his arm around her. “How do you want to handle that?”
“This is going to sound stupid but I think we should practice.”
“Practice what?”
“Being restrained. In a safe environment. Maybe that would help.”
“You’re saying you want me to cuff you?”
He didn’t sound all that enthusiastic. “It might work,” she said.
“I don’t have any handcuffs. I’m sure I could get some.”
“Maybe we should try putting my hands behind my back first. Take it step by step. And don’t give me that look,” Caroline said.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just reminiscing.”
“We aren’t going to be near a bed when we’re doing it.”
“It might help if we were.”
“This is serious, Jack. I don’t – I want to be ready.”
“I know. I’ll help, okay?”
Caroline pulled up her sleeves, rubbing the scars on her wrists. “You’re going to have to be cruel.”
“I’m not sure I like that.”
As if she did. “We have to see what happens, Jack. I can’t keep my wits about me if I black out. And you need me to stay calm, right?”
“Right,” he said. “You need to be focused, clearheaded, and for God’s sake, don’t be cheeky.”
Triumph (The Bellator Saga Book 6) Page 26
