by Jodie Bailey
“Slowly turning into a health-food nut.” Kristin didn’t turn, but simply tilted the jar slightly, staring at something floating on top of about an inch of dark liquid inside.
Well, this was definitely less stressful than Travis’s reappearance or someone trying to kill them. Casey edged closer and peeked into the jar. Near the bottom, a slimy disk like a smashed jellyfish floated. She edged away and stared at her best friend. “Please, please, please tell me you aren’t going to eat whatever that is.”
“I’m not.”
Casey puffed out a breath. “Good.”
“I’m going to drink it.”
“Yuck. What on earth is it? And why would you want to drink something that looked like it came from the bottom of the ocean?”
Laughing, Kristin reached in and chased the offending object around the glass before she grasped it and pulled it out, then slipped it onto the top of the liquid in the other jar. “It’s as squishy as it looks.” She shuddered and wiped her hands on a paper towel. “It’s eventually going to be kombucha tea. But I’m really not sure this is something I want to put a lot of time into yet.” Slipping a paper towel over the mouth of the jar, she secured it with a rubber band, then slid it to the back of the counter. “Ask me in a few days how it goes.”
“How about I ask Lucas instead?”
“He’ll call me a granola bar.” With a grin, Kristin rinsed her hands then leaned against the counter and reached for an orange. She poked her thumb into the peel, then licked a stray rivulet of orange juice from her finger, her eyes gleaming. “And then he’ll ask me again if I’m serious when I say I’m not wearing a dress to our wedding.”
“Oh, you’re wearing a dress.”
“I know, but messing with Lucas and his aunt is too much fun. I think she’s half-convinced I’m going to show up in yoga pants and a running shirt. And I can’t say I’ve done much to ease those fears for her.”
Casey laughed and jumped up to sit on the counter, shutting her eyes and reveling in the camaraderie as she leaned her head against the cabinet. Yes. She’d been right. It felt good to talk about anything other than the current chaos in her life. “We should do this more often. I forgot what girl time looks like.”
“I keep calling, and you keep making excuses.”
There was no denying it. Spending time with Kristin had been too much, had brought too many memories of double dates and nights hanging out together as two happy couples. Becoming the third wheel to Kristin and Lucas sounded like zero fun. “Busy.”
“Sure.” Kristin looked like she was going to say something else, then gave a crooked smile. “But we should hang out more. It might keep Lucas from talking about the wedding. He’s a girl when it comes to this.”
Casey smiled, even though she didn’t really want to. If Lucas joined them, it meant Travis would probably tag along, particularly with his current insistence on watching out for her.
“That man’s as stubborn as they come.”
“Lucas? He’s been pretty flexible about the whole wedding thing.”
Oops. She hadn’t meant to speak the thought out loud. With a sigh, Casey opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, where a small crack from the settling of the old house snaked its way beside the tops of the dark wood cabinets. “Not Lucas.”
“Travis.” A shuffle and a scraping sound said Kristin had dropped into a kitchen chair and was sitting in her customary listening position, elbows on her knees.
Casey peeked. Sure enough, her friend sat exactly like she’d thought, toying with the edges of the paper towel on which her orange slices rested. Kristin ate oranges constantly. It was a wonder the acid hadn’t melted her teeth and trashed her stomach.
Kristin popped another orange slice into her mouth and chewed slowly, staring at the refrigerator. “I know you don’t want to talk about why you’re spending the night here tonight. I totally get it. Been there, done that.” The year before, one of the soldiers from Lucas and Travis’s company had stalked Kristin, hunting for missing antiquities her brother had stolen. Kristin had been shot in the shoulder, requiring months of physical therapy and counseling before she’d started to feel like her old self again. If anybody knew what Casey was going through right now, it was Kristin. “You’ve never told me why the two of you broke things off. Every time I ask why it all ended, you change the subject, and Travis has been tight-lipped with Lucas, too.”
Because talking about it was humiliating. Painful. Downright depressing. Casey shrugged.
“No. Not this time. This time, you tell me. Because what I really want to know is if I need to walk across the street and punch him in the nose for you.”
“Wait.” Casey dug her palms into the counter and sat straighter. “Across the street?” Travis was at Lucas’s house, which made no sense unless... She held up a hand to stop Kristin’s answer. “He’s watching me. I ought to be the one to go over there and punch him in the nose.”
“He’s concerned. I think it’s sweet.”
“It’s not sweet.” Casey went to peek between the blinds at Lucas’s house, half-surprised not to see Travis sitting on the front porch where Lucas had sat vigil when Kristin was in danger. “It’s weird and it’s denial. If anybody needs a bodyguard it’s him, not me. And if I did need one, it sure wouldn’t be him.” Still, even as she said the words, the tension in her neck eased. The idea Travis would set aside his life to keep an eye on her was somehow comforting. Just like having him around earlier today. Just like it had been in the past.
Before he’d hurt her.
She dropped her forehead to the window casing. “Travis Heath is a jerk who feels guilty, so he’s trying to make up for it since he thinks I’m in danger.” Maybe if she told herself that enough, her heart would get the message and let him go.
“I think Travis is a pretty nice guy.”
“You never dated him.”
“He’s funny.”
“He thinks he is.” Except...he did have a way of making her smile even when she didn’t want to.
“He cares about others.”
Um, no. Casey drew the line right there. “If he cared so much, he wouldn’t have walked out my front door one night like everything was normal and all but disappeared. Ever.”
“Wait.” From the sound of her voice, Kristin had stood from the couch. “You guys didn’t officially break up? He...walked away?”
This was the exact reason Casey had maintained her silence for so long. Kristin was a staunch defender of those she loved, and the last thing Casey needed to do was put her at odds with Travis, who happened to be her fiancé’s best friend. Now, though, what did it matter? “Well, he did offer what amounts to a pretty lame explanation for a soldier.”
“What explanation?”
Casey lifted one shoulder, keeping her head to the wall. She ran one finger down the sealant around the window casing. It would be awesome if she could seal up her emotions the way the builders had sealed the air out of this house. Oops, don’t want to feel that. We’ll just put a little caulk there and nothing can get through.
Too bad it didn’t really work that way. “He decided the army and family don’t go together, whatever that means.”
“Ouch.”
“Exactly. He has a fear of commitment I’m not ever going to be able to overcome. It’s better I found out before I fell any harder.” Really, Travis had done them both a favor wimping out when he did, and as long as she didn’t think too hard about it, his exit didn’t bother her at all.
At least, that’s what she liked to tell herself.
But, God? I really don’t appreciate Your bringing him now, when there’s trouble and he thinks he can play the hero. Because once this was over, he’d be gone again, like he needed to be.
EIGHT
The Saturday morning sun streamed through t
he windows in Lucas’s back door, leaving a patchwork of light and shadow on the tile floor. The brightness of the morning did little to lighten Travis’s dark mood. Even his third cup of coffee wasn’t doing anything more than fueling his need to pace the house.
He’d thought being at Lucas’s house, across the street from where Casey was bunking at Kristin’s, would make it easier to rest and being within shouting distance would give him peace. He’d been wrong.
He hadn’t had many nightmares since he’d left Casey but, boy... Last night had kicked his rear like nothing had since combat.
Wrapping his fingers around the thick brown coffee mug, he let the warmth soak into his palms and through his arms. But it couldn’t touch the place inside him that spun in a way he’d never admit to anybody.
Every time he’d tried to sleep, all he’d seen was some crazy blend of present and past, churning like the Gulf of Mexico before a hurricane had leveled their small beach town. John’s lifeless eyes shifted and morphed into those of Neil Aiken, the same empty, gone-forever stare marring features alive and laughing a few moments before he stepped on an explosive device.
The device on the path Travis, his team leader, had told him to take point on.
The path Travis should have stepped onto ahead of the men he was leading.
In the end, there was, what, a trade-off? One man for another all because of where they placed their feet? Because Travis had been slack in his own duties and sent one of his soldiers ahead of him, even though his gut was screaming something wasn’t right?
Life should be harder to snuff out than it was.
Planting his elbows on the wooden kitchen table, he braced his hands in his short hair and dug his fingers into his scalp, wishing there was a way to dig out the memory once and for all.
Except he wouldn’t want to forget.
And he shouldn’t have blood on his hands on home soil. He shouldn’t be watching his back and hearing footsteps where there were none. He shouldn’t have to spend his nights in a cold sweat, terrified Casey was being tortured at the hands of someone he couldn’t even see.
“If you fall asleep, try not to drool on my table.”
Travis sat back in the chair and forced a grin at Lucas, who came into the kitchen dressed for the run he took with Kristin every weekend morning. “Yeah, well, if you’d invested in a better mattress on the guest-room bed...”
“You’d just better be happy it wasn’t a sleeping bag in the backyard, you ungrateful punk.” Lucas grinned and grabbed a bottle of water off the counter, took a swig, then swiped at his mouth. “You talk in your sleep. I could hear you through the wall.”
“Whatever.”
“You have a fantastic attitude this morning, Heath.” Lucas slid into the chair across from Travis and thunked his bottle to the table. “You might want to think about dialing it down a little bit.”
“Why?”
“I got a call from the first sergeant when Kristin and I were out running.”
The way he said it caught Travis’s full attention. This was about more than his bad attitude. “Nothing good ever came from that sentence. Wait...” He rolled his eyes to stare at the ceiling, searching his memory, but came up empty. “Nope. Can’t think of a single time.”
“Nothing good today either.”
“Which of your guys got into trouble last night?” As platoon sergeants, the responsibility for their men lay at their feet. Most days, it wasn’t a bad deal, but when one of the guys partied too hard, the consequences came swiftly from the chain of command.
“Far as I know, my guys were perfect little soldiers last night. As always.” He spun the bottle around then set it onto the table. “This was about you.”
Travis’s eyebrows drew together, and he tried not to give in to the annoyance pricking at him. There was no reason to go around him. “If the first sergeant needed something from me, he has my number same as yours.”
“He wanted to get a read on where your head was before he talked to you. He asked a few questions, I answered, and then I asked him to let me do the talking for him on this one.”
The coffee Travis had downed suddenly felt like a really bad idea. “Why am I pretty sure you’re about to lay something even worse than I’m imagining on me?”
“There’s some concern for your safety after what happened Thursday night and yesterday.”
All the air left Travis’s lungs in a slow leak. If his chain of command got too worried, there were a lot of moves they could make next, and none of them suited his purposes. “What are you not telling me?”
Lucas rolled his water bottle between his palms, watching the water slosh for a few seconds before he said anything else.
The longer he waited, the more Travis’s head pounded.
Finally, Lucas stopped and looked up, pinning Travis with a look he’d used on his soldiers many times. “The commander knew John Winslow, and he knows you.” He held up a finger to stop Travis from speaking and kept talking. “They’re considering making a serious suggestion you head to post and hunker down at the battalion or somewhere a little less accessible, where it would be harder for—”
“And leave Casey out here alone? No.” If anything, he was going to make himself more visible. He was about to let a whole lot of people know Casey wasn’t on her own. If they wanted to get to her, they were going to have to come through him. The only way he would hide out on post like some kind of fugitive was if she went with him.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on here?” Lucas said. “You and Casey are practically in hiding already. The first sergeant’s worried... You had my back last year when I was watching out for Kristin. No reason you can’t give me a chance to do the same.”
True. “I don’t know. Things don’t compute.”
“Then start talking and maybe they will.”
Travis pressed his spine into the chair, staring at the door. He’d tried to puzzle it out, but the pieces didn’t fit. They were almost joined, but there was always one edge that stuck out and ruined the picture. Lucas had a gut instinct Travis had learned to trust over the years, so maybe laying it all out would give his buddy a perspective Travis was too close to see. “At my first duty station, I was part of a Joint Task Force North mission on the border with Mexico.”
“The one where you guys tripped over a drug supply line and took out an upstart cartel?”
“See?” Travis dragged his hand across the top of his head. It would be nice if he could smooth out his thoughts as easily as his hair. “It’s not like it’s some big secret.”
“You only bragged about it for half of Ranger School. We all knew.”
“You’re not funny. Casey’s doing a story, and she’s interviewed some of the guys who were on the mission with me.”
Any amusement on Lucas’s face disappeared, and he eased forward to the edge of his chair, elbows on his knees.
Travis had seen the posture about a hundred times. His buddy was sitting on go, ready to do whatever it took to win the coming battle.
“It’s not Casey’s apartment getting hit or the mugging or even the car. It’s Casey’s laptop. It was at John’s house, and I can’t figure out why. She’d already talked to him once and was scheduled to again, so is it something he already said? Something he might say?” Talking about it made the situation more confusing, not less. He ought to stop now, but the worst was yet to come. “Then yesterday, the car on Hay Street. Could have been a second run at her or—”
“Or you’re the one somebody’s after.”
Travis gave a curt nod. If he was the target, then he’d at least know Casey was safe. He’d rather dodge a bullet himself than risk her being hit. There was no doubt losing her would eclipse every other tragedy he’d ever witnessed. “Casey’s meeting with Deacon Lewis later today, another guy who was on my team then
. I’m going with her whether she wants me to or not. All I can think is I should get Deac’s number from Casey and warn him.”
“Because if you don’t...”
“If I don’t, then I might be responsible for his death.” Travis dropped his head against the back of the tall wooden chair. “I’ve had that burden before, and I’m pretty sure I can’t live with myself if it happens again.”
* * *
Casey stared at her sandals, heels dug tightly against the floorboard of Travis’s truck.
Once more, they were chasing shadows that might turn out to be figments of their imaginations, or they might turn out to be nightmares.
Travis had pounded on Kristin’s door this morning in a foul mood, all traces of his typical humor gone. He’d insisted on calling Deacon this morning, and every call went unanswered. He’d called the police, who didn’t see a reason to worry, since Deacon was a grown man who wasn’t technically missing. And a call to Marcus had gone to voice mail.
Casey had interviewed Deacon before, for an article on substance abuse in the military, and he’d had his phone on him constantly. He’d laughed once and told her he never went anywhere without it.
Travis had calmed since they were on the move toward Deacon’s apartment, but whatever had driven him to make the call still hung in the air and was now seeping deep into her bones. After all they’d been through, anxiety clenched her stomach around the bagel she’d managed to choke down for breakfast. If she made it through this day without growing herself an ulcer, it would shock her.
Travis must have felt her tense. He reached for her but hesitated over the space between them before he dropped his hand next to his leg, thumb working the outer seam of his jeans. “You okay over there?”
No. She wished he’d have closed the gap and touched her hand. Wished she were free to reach over and take his hand herself.
And she hated herself for it.
The heat of anger was safer than the softer emotions trying to swamp her, so Casey gave her all to her frustration. She’d give him one more chance to tell the truth about his attitude this morning before she let her temper take the reins. Being treated like the weak female didn’t sit well, even if she was feeling every ounce of weakness down to her bones. “I’d be a whole lot better if you’d give me a clue about what’s going on.”
