Okay, so she hadn’t exactly expected the muscle bound bald man standing in front of her to say something as simple or nice as “Are you okay?”, but she did expect Master Chief Calverton to be a bit more tactful.
“Getting shot at and having your car blown up tends to do that to a person.” She honestly tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice and she really tried to make it sound respectful. She was just too exhausted to swing it.
Marquell laughed from his spot in the corner behind the door. “That would have at least sounded somewhat more respectful and a hell of a lot less sarcastic if you would’ve added a ‘master chief’ at the end of it.”
“The peanut gallery should remain quiet unless they are directly spoken to.” She dropped gingerly into a metal folding chair. “Besides, you are the last person who should ever counsel anyone on military protocol.”
Master Chief Calverton turned and glared at the man in the corner for taking away his right to admonish his own first class. “And you would be?”
“A friend.”
Shanna snorted. The pain medication was wearing off and playing nice just wasn’t possible anymore. “That may be stretching the truth at this particular juncture in time. And that is definitely up for debate.”
“Not here it isn’t, Corelsand.”
“Bite me, Marquell.”
Master Chief addressed Marquell again. “Okay. Do you have a name?”
Marquell folded his arms over his chest. “Do you?”
Mater Chief held out his hand. “Master Chief Calverton.”
Marquell shook the man’s beefy hand. “Since
Shanna here has forgotten her manners, amongst other things, I guess I’m left to my own devices.”
“Kiss my ass, Marquell.”
Marquell shook his head. “Nice to meet you Master Chief. I’m Quinton Marquell.”
Master Chief released his hand and took in the man’s ponytail. He raised an eyebrow. “And you would know my first class…how? She sure as hell doesn’t seem to like you.”
“I’m her husband and her liking me really depends on her mood.”
Master Chief’s eyes cut to Shanna. “I wasn’t aware my petty officer was married.”
Yeah, not a lot of people did. There was a reason for that.
“I’m her best kept secret. What can I say?”
Okay, this needed to end. Now. “It’s not something that needs to be broadcasted,” she said through gritted teeth. “And we’re only married when it’s convenient for him. So, now that my personal business is out there for all to know, can we get this over with so I can get some rest?”
Master Chief ignored her. “How long have the two of you been married?”
“Three years.”
She blew a breath out through her teeth as she attempted to get comfortable in the hard metal chair. “Answer another question about my personal life, Marquell, and you won’t have to wait until we enter the seventh circle of hell for me to kill you.”
Once again, she was ignored.
“You were there with her this afternoon?”
“Yeah, I was there. She’s lucky to be alive. There wasn’t one shooter, but two.”
She inhaled sharply as she shifted wrong and her sore ribs complained loudly. “Don’t forget about my
car. You know, since you’re suddenly in a sharing mood and all.”
She was ignored once again. That was fine by her. She was exhausted anyway.
“Have any ideas on who would be after my sailor?”
“Plenty. And I’m not at liberty to discuss any of them. We’re just here to let you know she is alive and to collect her leave paperwork from admin.” Marquell looked at the Rolex on his wrist. “And it’s time we did just that. We need to leave now if we’re going to beat tunnel traffic.”
Master Chief laughed. “You were an officer in the military, weren’t you? You’re too good at dodging questions and barking orders to be enlisted.”
“I was a lieutenant in the teams. It was nice meeting you, Master Chief. You will be informed on what you can and I promise Corelsand will check in periodically and let you know if she needs anything from you. Did they tell you her leave isn’t specific dates?”
“Yeah.” Master Chief’s eyes cut to her again. “They said she was on loan for as long as her services were needed. They approved the chit for two weeks, but if more time is needed, all she needs to do is call me and it’s done.”
Shanna shifted again in an effort to get comfortable. It was very uncomfortable under the weight of his gaze.
“You have some family and friends in some very high places, Corelsand.”
“Once again, Master Chief, personal and not something I like broadcasted.”
He nodded. “Noted. Marquell, you might want to have her sign for that chit and get her out of here. She’s not looking good.”
Marquell grabbed her arm and led her out of the room. “If only she’d sleep for the whole thirteen hour drive we have ahead of us, we’d be set. Unfortunately, she’s going to be difficult and fight me the whole way.”
“About what?” Master Chief inquired curiously.
“Having to face her past. That’s not a good topic for her.”
Master Chief watched them walk down the hallway towards the admin office. “Well, son, it’s called a past for a reason.”
That was her exact thought on the subject, but she just didn’t have the energy to voice it.
CHAPTER 3
August 2015
Suffield, OH
“Breathe. No, I’m serious. Take a deep breath.” Marquell shook her shoulders. “You’re looking a little blue…with a hint of purple.”
Shanna stood frozen on the concrete driveway, staring at the massive Spanish Colonial in front of them. She took a deep breath like ordered as she debated whether or not she’d rather sleep in the backseat of the Blazer. It seriously beat going into the house of horrors to crash in her childhood room with its horrible memories.
Honestly, she wasn’t in the mood for the nightmares she knew would come.
“See, that wasn’t so hard. Remember you need to breathe to live. Write it down if you need to.”
She knocked Marquell’s hands off her shoulders, shooting him a look that said she wasn’t amused in the least. “It’s too late for sarcasm. Brain can’t absorb sarcastic words after being up for over twenty-four hours.”
Marquell leaned back against the Blazer, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean too early?”
She made a rather unladylike sound. “It can only be too early if you’ve actually gone to sleep and have been woken up, Marquell.” She scrubbed a hand over her face. “With the way you drive, it was kind of hard to sleep with the nagging fear I’d die if I closed my eyes.”
He flipped her the bird.
She responded with the double bird salute.
With a sigh, she grabbed the maroon suitcase he held out for her and followed him into the two car garage through the side door. She fought a panic attack as she followed him into the house, her heart knocking against her ribs like a drum. The second she stepped foot into the marble hallway off of the garage, her heart threatened to beat its way out of her chest.
She ran from there, up the two steps into the formal living room, left up the steep staircase, and into the room at the end of the hall. She dropped her suitcase in front of the brown folding closet doors that took up the wall shared with the smaller bedroom next door.
She kicked the door shut and fell face first onto the double bed of her youth, out cold before her head hit the pillow.
While Shanna slept the sleep of the dead, Danick Corelsand snuck into her room to study her. He dropped into the overstuffed chair angled in the corner across from the bed.
She was spread eagle on her back, her long auburn hair spread out on the pillow, framing her heart shaped face, her emerald green eyes scrunched shut. She was still wearing the tee and khaki Capri’s she had arrived in. Pale pink flip flops hung off her feet
.
His gaze settled on the sling holding her left arm against her chest. The bruises covering her exposed skin stood out in drastic comparison to her dark olive skin. The scrapes she’d acquired in her dive to safety were less red and aggravated then they would’ve been yesterday.
He leaned back in the chair, his anger quickly reaching its boiling point. When was the poor girl going to get a break from the hold their older brother had on her? His baby sister didn’t deserve this.
Hell, no one did.
He looked up as Rhyder Corelsand snuck quietly into the room, shutting the door behind him. Danick put a finger to his lips, signaling his baby brother to be quiet.
Rhyder stood at the window beside the bed, leaning a shoulder against the wall as he stared out at the woods behind the house.
Danick softly cleared his throat, getting Rhyder’s attention.
Rhyder looked at his older brother, then to his twin passed out on the bed, and, with a shake of his head, went back to staring out the window again. His jaw was clenched so tightly, Danick was afraid it was going to shatter.
Shanna woke up a few minutes later. She didn’t look the least bit surprised to find them in her room. As a matter of fact, she look somewhat resigned, but overall happy to see them.
She pushed herself up into a sitting position, leaning back against the dark headboard. She crossed her good arm under the blue sling, stretching her legs out in front of her. She looked at her brothers expectantly.
Danick cleared his throat, pulling the collar of his shirt away from his neck. “We’re, uh, here to talk about, um, a very sensitive subject.”
“Smooth bro.”
Danick glared at his brother. “Now’s not the time to be a dick, Rhy.”
“What? You were stuttering like it was your first time.”
Danick flipped him off, turning back to his sister. “You need anything before we begin?”
Shanna shook her head.
Danick swallowed hard, placing a photograph on the night stand between them. “Just throwing this out there now, we got elected for this job. We aren’t here of our own free will.”
Rhyder turned from the window, propping a foot up on the wall. “Yeah, because you’d never kill the messengers. Right, Shan?” Sarcasm dripped from that statement like melting ice on a hot summer’s day. “Apparently, everyone is under the convoluted delusion that you are less likely to kill us.”
“Either way, we’ll be men and take the fallout,” Danick said, shooting Rhyder a dirty look.
Rhyder looked at his older brother with a sympathetic smile. “Keep telling yourself that, man. I might make it out of this room alive. You, on the other hand…” He slid his index finger across his neck as he let the sentence trail off.
Danick groaned, throwing his hands up in the air in pure defeat. “I quit. I’m done. Since you’re so freaking confident, why don’t you grow a pair and tell her yourself?”
Shanna raised an eyebrow at her twin brother’s confident statement. First of all, she reserved any and all rights to kill whomever she wanted. Second of all,
Rhyder really didn’t have a leg to stand on because she’d threatened to kill him on more than one occasion in the last two years alone.
Studying her brothers a bit more closely, she narrowed her eyes. Wow. They really were scared that she would kill them after they parted with whatever information they were holding onto like it was the Holy Grail.
Biting her tongue, she decided to let this play out without forcing it. Or questioning it too closely.
Her brain could be rather creative when it wanted to be. So, before she jumped to any conclusions, she would hear them out and react once she had all the facts.
Honestly, there was a ninety-nine-point-nine percent chance she was going to kill them. Really, at this point, why try and lie?
Then again, at the rate the two of them were bickering in the background, they might just end up killing one another and save her from having to exert energy she really didn’t have.
Ignoring the whining and bitching going on in the background, she sighed in annoyance when her hair settled in front of her eyes. Shoving it behind her ear, she concentrated on the man in the picture.
He looked alarmingly familiar. Curly black hair rested comfortably on broad, muscular shoulders, framing a round face with high cheekbones and a long nose that was slightly crooked from being broken a time or two. A faded scar ran the length of his right cheek bone, curving down to the end, just below his ear lobe. His skin was a light coffee color, a tribute to an African-American mother who was also half Puerto Rican, and was darkened even deeper by too much time in the sun.
Wait. She couldn’t possibly know his ancestry.
Right?
The picture is all wrong. The hair should be shaved.
She shook her head slightly, pushing the nagging thought out of her mind.
She had no idea where that thought had come from. It was a bad thought and needed to stop trying to cloud her judgment.
She concentrated on the photo again.
He was dressed casually in a plain navy blue tee that covered his broad shoulders, incredibly muscular chest, and equally muscular biceps nicely. Black jeans rode loosely on narrow hips, but hugged nicely defined legs in all the right places.
Her breath caught in her throat, her heart barely beating. It felt like a hand had plunged itself inside of her chest, grabbed her heart with an iron fist, and was now slowly squeezing the life out of her.
No! No, it couldn’t be!
It was just her mind playing a cruel trick on her. She concentrated harder on the photograph.
He had handsome, rugged looks capable of making any woman swoon at the mere sight of him. She was immune to those good looks, though. She was embarrassed to admit to the fact that she had been down that road more times than she cared to count.
As she slowly accepted that her mind wasn’t going to let her do this without insisting that she was seeing him, she stared into the man in the picture’s eyes.
They were the most stunning shade of blue, reminding her of a clear blue sky on a beautiful summer afternoon. They contrasted with his darker features, making the effect stunningly sexy.
Oh, shit.
Those eyes brought the nice, comfortable life she’d built up around herself from the pieces of a broken heart crashing down around her with the force of a category five hurricane.
I’ll love you always…
Son of a… There was that blasted voice again.
She sank in the bed, pulling her knees up to her chin. She wrapped her arm loosely around her legs as she closed her eyes against the onslaught of hurt, anger, and confusion fighting to surface first.
Her heart contracted against the hand holding it hostage, causing it to become harder to breathe. She rubbed her chest, her bruised and battered heart attempting to continue to beat against the pain.
She couldn’t let this shatter her heart. She wouldn’t be able to rebuild it a second time.
She bowed her head, finally giving into the memory that wasn’t going to be ignored any longer. She’d given it her best shot, but the memory wasn’t going to be kept in the darkest recesses of her mind.
Ten Years Ago
Virginia
Denton was ten years younger. His features weren’t quite mature yet, but not as hard as they were now in the picture. The scar on his face hadn’t been there.
He was standing in front of their town house, a green sea bag at his feet. It was a chilly February morning, just before Valentine’s Day. The sky was an ugly shade of gray, reminding her of his eyes when he got upset. The clouds blended in with the sky and threatened to release snow on them at any moment.
Shanna pulled the oversized button down knit sweater tighter around herself as she stood on the small cement block that served as their stoop.
She was aware of the Jeep idling at the curb, but she never took her eyes off of D.
A wide, sad smile, that didn’t qu
ite reach his guarded eyes, stretched across his handsome face. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she sighed and rested her head on his chest.
She thought, briefly, that it was like he was holding onto her for dear life. Almost like he believed this might be the last time he’d ever have her in his arms. She had dismissed it as lack of sleep and an overactive imagination.
Little did she know, she had been closer to the truth then she could ever have imagined possible.
He let go of her abruptly, stepping back. He assured her, per usual, that everything would be okay. He’d only be gone a few days on this “training” exercise. When he got back, they would have time for that talk they needed to have.
She nodded as she watched him sprint towards the red Jeep, waving at the man in the driver’s seat.
This was standard operating procedure when one was involved with a Navy SEAL.
D jumped in, blew her a kiss, and then he was gone like the wind.
They never did get to have that important conversation. He had never made it back from that “training” mission.
Or so she had been told.
CHAPTER 4
August 2015
Shanna opened her eyes, anger the victor of her internal war.
She was missing a lot more than Denton Tiern not making it back from a so called “training” mission and him playing dead for a decade.
Really, if he had gone to such lengths to convince the free world that he was dead, why come out of hiding now? What changed?
She had a pretty good idea, but she needed to hear it from the proverbial horse’s mouth. It was time to get the truth and be done with this whole nightmare.
Her heart couldn’t take much more and she’d only known the truth all of ten minutes.
Curly and Moe also needed to shut the hell up.
She whistled.
They stopped mid-argument, their faces paling slightly.
She stared at them. The looks on their faces said it all. She had the answer to her most important question without a single word being uttered.
Surviving Today Page 3
