by Sam Destiny
“TR here on Tagged For Life. Wasn’t that a beautiful song?” She sighed the way she usually would’ve done and looked at her next E-mail. “This one’s short and sweet, and it’s from California Hope. Hey there, Hope.” She was surprised more people used aliases instead of their real names the longer the show aired. Almost as if Jazz had started a trend back then.
Forcing herself to focus, she read over the lines. “’I’ve been in love with the same guy as long as I can remember. High school, college, and then after that when I went back home. He never knew because I never told him. He was my best friend for the longest time. People always say you need to know the guy you’re in love with, and that you should never make rash decisions, but a couple of weeks ago I heard this story from Desert Heart, about the three weeks, and I realized he was right, you know? It’s not about knowing someone a lifetime. It’s about being ready to go through the hard times with a person no matter what, and you know it can work pretty fast. So, of course if I’ve known the guy I loved for so long, how do I justify saying it takes mere minutes? It’s because I met a guy five weeks ago. We work together. We have lunch together, but we never spoke much. Safe to say I knew nothing about him except his name and the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled. However, I was hit by a car a week ago. Guess who was there every day to talk to me and to keep my mind off the pain? That guy. He’s a forever guy. Or rather the forever guy, because there’ll only be one of those in your life. He doesn’t owe me a thing, and I’ll never ask anything of him, and yet… he’s here. That’s all you need to know about the person you choose for your life. That he’s there. So here’s a shout-out to Desert Heart. If you’re listening: She’s your girl. Keep her. She’s your forever girl, no matter the time and distance between you two.’”
Tessa paused a tiny second, then went on. “And here’s the song California Hope picked.” She turned the music on, wondering if Jazz was actually listening, but then dismissed the thought. He no longer was in a war zone; he was here. Standing, she walked over to the window, knowing she had less than a minute to stare out at the world. The sun shone brightly outside, and it wasn’t a surprise. After all, it was almost four in the afternoon. Hosting a night show when it wasn’t actually night was weird, but at least her working times were a lot more sociable. Returning to the console, she stayed standing, no longer calm enough to sit. She accepted the next caller, even talked to the woman, but the moment she started the song, she no longer had any idea what she’d been saying.
God, she needed to pull herself together. And she needed a few hours of sleep, but that would only happen later that night. If at all.
Sighing, she lifted her eyes to the woman who had been her saving grace ever since she’d moved to the US. Beyond the wide glass of her studio, Hilary waved at her, her expression concerned and gentle.
Once the show was over and Tessa was able to put the headphones down, she went outside where Hilary pulled her into a hug. As loud and buoyant as her friend had been the last time she’d been to the US, she was different this time, and Tessa appreciated it.
“You look like shit, sister,” Hils announced, and Tessa couldn’t help herself, shaking her head with a smile. Sometimes the old Hilary came through.
“You say the sweetest things,” she replied, and Hilary shifted the baby in her arms. Tessa touched Johnny’s nose, her heart squeezing tightly. He yawned, his toothless mouth making her grin.
“He’s sleepy and constantly hungry,” Hilary complained, and Tessa laughed.
“He’s a guy, what did you expect?” She grabbed the boy from Hilary, pressing him close to her.
“Home?” Hilary inquired, and Tessa nodded, worrying her lip with her teeth. “I’m driving,” the brunette announced and Tessa didn’t protest.
Strapping the boy into the car seat, she slipped into the front seat, resting her head back. “I should move out,” Tessa commented the moment Hilary sat.
“Come again?” Hils blinked a few times, arching a brow and looking so mean, Tessa wasn’t sure she really wanted to repeat the words.
“You’ve been sacrificing your time to help me, and you have a life, you know? I just don’t wanna be a burden for you,” she explained quietly, right away taking the edge off her words… or so she hoped.
“Seems you suddenly learned Chinese. I don’t understand a word you’re saying,” Hilary commented, starting the car and ending the talk.
“Jazz, man. On your feet.Again.” Tank strolled into the room as if he owned it, and Jazz watched his friend in silence. Thomas had been by before, but until then, Jazz hadn’t taken the time to really look. Or rather, he hadn’t really cared.
“Thomas, hey,” he greeted his friend, and where usually the other soldier sported a buzz cut, his hair had grown out, giving Tank a softer appearance.
“Thomas, huh? What did I do?”
Nothing. He had done nothing, but Jazz had been away too long. Tank probably was the same notorious manwhore, but Jazz, himself, had changed so much, it didn’t feel as if he deserved to call Tank by his nickname any longer… or call him his best friend.
“Nothing. Except… what were you thinking having Tessa fly in for nothing?” Where did the anger in his voice come from?
“Fly in for… nothing?” Tank sputtered, his expression disbelieving.
“I… She was here, but honestly, I…” Couldn’t he finish one damn sentence when it came to that woman?
“You didn’t let her say anything, did you? I mean, did you two talk or just make out like wild teenagers?”
“Neither,” Jazz whispered, his heart hurting at the thought. He started to pace just to keep his feet busy. Standing still gave him an itch he couldn’t scratch, a need to run he couldn’t satisfy. “She wasn’t here very long.”
“What? Oh my God, is everything okay with…” Tank stopped himself and then squinted. “If she wasn’t here long and you two didn’t talk, then you have no clue what’s going on, do you? Tessa Rowan is aUS girl now.”
Jazz’s head snapped up, his heart racing. “She is?”
“Monterey is her hometown,” Tank confirmed, and Jazz bit his lip as his breath came out in a rush, a smile forming on his face before he could stop it.
“So close…” And yet so far, his brain provided helpfully, a dark little voice crushing down all the warmth that had spread at the news.
“You really didn’t talk. What the hell? She was so excited to share all that with you, and… God, I can’t imagine what happened to make her leave so fast.” Tank shook his head, and Jazz found it almost comical.
“So you picked up where you left off before I went, huh? Going from Tessa’s biggest opponent to her biggest fan?” Jazz taunted, jealousy churning in his body because Tank had talked to Tessa and he couldn’t… wouldn’t.
“It’s Tessa we’re talking about, Jazzy boy, the woman you dropped everything for before you left. The one woman who could’ve maybe made you stay,” Tank pointed out. “The woman you swore had changed everything for you.”
And God, she had.
“That was before I left, dude. You know, war makes you see the world differently.” Even though for him it hadn’t been war. It had been one stupid mistake, a carelessness he wouldn’t ever be able to take back. The world had been lifted off its axis, and he was sure it would never return to the way it had been before.
Tank stayed silent so long Jazz actually looked up. Then he spotted the dark circles under his friend’s eyes. Jazz forced a grin and wiggled his eyebrows. “Had a long night again? A blonde chick? Or a dark-haired one?”
He didn’t want to talk about women. He didn’t even want to talk at all, but Tank would be working with him again the moment they declared him fit for duty, and he was his best friend after all, so conversation it was. And Jazz could do superficial. He just couldn’t do emotions, or sweet, or whatever Tessa would be expecting of him.
He needed to get her out of his mind, and soon.
“No, fucker. I was balls deep
in worry for you, but hey not that you care, right? Being blown up in some unknown state far from here, you were so badly injured they didn’t dare move you, and now that they have, your fucking doctors advise you to stay in your fucking bed, yet you keep wandering around. So why should I worry, when not even you do?”
And I lifted Tessa up, too, which I’d do again in a heartbeat, just to feel her body against mine one last time, Jazz thought, crossing his arms in front of his body.
“Tell me what’s going on in your mind.”
“You and emotional talks? Sure you’re right in the head?” Jazz lifted the corner of his mouth, on purpose making it look as if he had not a care in the world while his insides were cold and dark.
“Fuck you, idiot. Honestly, I don’t care what you went through, and I’ll have as many drunk talks as you need, but you will tell me, and I will be by your side to fight through that. You hear me? Be a jerk all you want. And next time Tessa drops by, let her say her peace.”
Tank was almost at the door when Jazz whispered, “There won’t be a next time.” Because after what she’d seen, he was sure she wouldn’t ever come back, and it was better that way. He no longer had room in his life for her and hurting her more wasn’t in his cards. He couldn’t, not when one tear on her cheek would probably break him for good.
“If that’s what you think, you really don’t know her at all,” Tank replied, and then Jazz was alone in his room again.
Alone with his pain, the regret, and all the worrisome, unsettling thoughts in his mind. Post-traumatic stress disorder was a bitch, and it owned him. All of him.
Shortly after midnight Tessa had literally just rested her head on the pillow when her phone started to dance on her nightstand. Usually she had her cell on silent, but ever since she was in the US she had it set to vibrate in case there was anything going on with her best friend Evy and her baby girl.
“Rowan?” she croaked and cleared her throat to try again.
“Dr. Spencer here, Miss Rowan.” The beating in her chest stuttered. No matter if Jazz had wanted to see her or not, having his doctor on the phone worried her. She grabbed her chest as if she’d be able to keep her heart where it belonged.
“I am so sorry for calling you at this hour of night, but Corporal Connor is having night terrors, and he’s calling out your name again. Please, the psychologist and I wonder if maybe you’d be the person to—”
“I’m on my way. Give me ten minutes,” she stated and then hung up, already reaching for her jeans.
“Even with no traffic you need at least fifteen, Tessa.” The voice from the door startled her, and she tumbled to the floor, hitting her tailbone. The pain shot through her and she winced but pushed to her feet nonetheless.
“Hils, damn, I nearly got a heart attack.”
“I heard you talking. I thought you were having nightmares and wanted to rouse you from them,” Hils explained and Tessa gritted her teeth.
“For nightmares you’d have to be asleep,” she replied, pulling on a hoodie and realizing only afterward it was the army one she’d gotten from Jazz that very first day at the airport.
“Two hours, Tessa, and then I want you to be back.”
She sighed. “I’m going to—”
“No, you’re not. Two hours, because you need fucking sleep. You’ve been on your legs from five this morning, and haven’t rested once. Drive carefully and text me when you get there.” When had Hilary turned into her mother?
“Hils, I’m old enough to know what I’m doing,” she snapped even though her friend deserved nothing but her gratitude.
“No, you’re heartbroken and tired. You don’t think straight, and until you do, someone else has to take care of you, so say hello to your new guardian, and prepare to hate me. Two hours, or I’ll come and pick you up.”
“I’ll be back.” And she would be, because right now she owed everything to Hilary.
The ride in the car passed by in a blur. Quite literally, too, since she couldn’t care less for speed limits.Once she entered the hospital she had to pause, pulling her hair into a messy ponytail while trying steady her heartbeat and her breathing. She sounded as if she’d run a hundred miles when in truth she’d just panicked outside.
“Tessa Rowan. Dr. Spencer called me,” she announced as she stepped up to the check-in and the nurse looking at her gave her a gentle nod.
“Miss Rowan.” Tessa turned, spotting Dr. Spencer behind her. He looked like she felt and for some reason that softened her heart. Going over, she hugged him, clearly surprising him.
“Why in the world are you still here?” she wanted to know and he shook his head, stepping back and bringing distance between them.
“Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.” He led the way even though Tessa remembered it perfectly well.
Before they entered she held him back though. “How long do his nightmares usually last?”
The doctor’s eyes met hers and he stayed silent for the longest time before lowering his gaze. “Up to hours. Until he wakes, screaming. So all I ask of you is to try and calm him down. I don’t know if you’ll be able to wake him up, but you could go for it, if you want to. I have no clue.”
“I haven’t been with him down there, so how in the world does my name tumble from his lips then?” She hadn’t even considered that until she stood there. Why was she featured in his terrors?
The doctor gave her and uneasy smile. “I don’t know, I—”
He didn’t come further since a wounded sound came from the room behind them and Tessa turned, walking inside. With just enough light coming in through the open door she saw Jazz twisting and turning on his bed, his knuckles white as he held onto his blanket. His was panting, his face pulled into a mask of agony.
“Fuck no. No!” He kept mumbling that over and over again and Tessa finally stepped close enough to reach out and touch him. She was terrified of hurting him more. After all, one jerk of his head could mean she’d jab her finger right into his eye. Opting for the safest placing—the top of his head—she rested her palm against it, feeling his hair wet underneath her hands. Cold sweat covered her soldier and it broke her heart.
“Jesse,” she whispered and although he stilled for a moment, his panting got worse, as if she was sitting right on his chest.
“No, what the hell is she doing here? Not Tessa, not here.” His voice was edged with terror, his lips pulled back into a snarl, which transformed his beautiful face until she barely recognized him.
“My hell, not hers,” he went on and she released a pent-up breath. Still caught in a dream, he hadn’t meant to force her out of here.
Grabbing one of his hands, prying the blanket from his fingers, she squeezed them tightly.
“Jazz, you’re safe now. I’m here, and you’re safe. No hell here,” she whispered, wondering if she just imagined how his body calmed the slightest bit. Suddenly he sat up, his eyes wide open.
“Tessa.” Shock colored his features and he framed her face, kissing her forehead before pressing her against his chest. His shirt clung to him and he was trembling when he suddenly grabbed her hand and pulled at her. “I’m getting you to safety,” he promised. “You’ll be safe. No matter what happens.”
She stared at him. His eyes were open, and though they appeared nearly black in the half-light, she saw the way his lashes lowered in regular intervals. He definitely was awake, but he still seemed caught wherever the dream had dragged him.
“We are safe,” she tried, but he just shook his head, dark hair falling into his eyes. God, his hair had gotten long.
He tugged on her arm and she noticed how he hid her body from view, his chest lifting irregularly with each and every breath he drew. “I’ll get you out uninjured, I swear,” he told her and then slipped out of the door, drawing her after him until they stood in the better-lit hallway. If anyone found his appearance weird, no one said anything. Instead they all stared at them. Tessa brought her attention back to the guy next to her and saw fury burning in
his eyes.
“Don’t touch her. Any of you. I’ll kill you with my bare hands, and if it’s the last thing I do,” he threatened, tugging her along. She had no idea where they were going.
“There are rocks nearby. We can hide you behind them, and I’ll draw everyone away from them. God, why are you here?” Jazz asked, his voice tinged with panic.
“It’s a flashback, Tessa. He’s caught somewhere between being here and being back in his nightmare.” Thank God, Dr. Spencer was near, ready to guide her through this.
“What now?” she asked.
“Get him back to the room, get him out of it, no matter what. I don’t know what else to tell you,” the doctor told her.
“Now I’ll hide you. Shit, where are…Fuck, get down!” Jazz replied as if he hadn’t heard Dr. Spencer speak. Jazz pushed her down, and the next thing she knew Tessa was pressed against the wall and his body.
“There,” she whispered. “Jazz, there are the rocks.” She pointed back to the door, just because she wanted to have him out of the hallway.
“Run, I’ll keep your back free.”
She was fully out of her element, yet she stood and then watched from the doorframe how he moved back slowly, his arms lifted as if he was carrying a machine gun. Then he was with her inside the room and she closed the door, grabbing his arm as if she was in panic.
“There, let’s wait together. Please. Without you I’ll die here.” She drew him over to the bed and sat down, pulling him down next to her.
“I can’t, I need to find Betty,” he replied, staring at the door.
“I’m terrified.” And now nearly dead inside, because so far she’d tried to forget about the woman who had been here earlier that day and it had worked rather well.
Indecision pulled his lips into a straight line, but then he looked down on her and kissed her forehead. “Then yes, I’m staying with you. I’ll protect you.”
