Love Runs Deep

by Gail Chianese

  No more so than working together and seeing each other every day but not be allowed to touch him. “It’s a good thing we’re not dating then.” She pushed him back with one finger that he captured and kissed.

  “There’s nothing in the rulebook that says we can’t be friends. Hang out. Enjoy a beer. Catch a game. It’s even encouraged among the members of the wardroom. Come over tonight.”

  Had the invitation come from any of the other guys she could have pictured hanging out, chilling in front of the TV, shooting the breeze or swapping sea stories around the fire pit. Just a couple of friends hanging out.

  Not with Kyle.

  Give the two of them a private room. A guarantee of no interruptions. She’d bet a month’s pay they’d be undressed and in bed within ten minutes of shutting the front door.

  The door to the wardroom swung open and Mace walked in.

  “Am I interrupting?” he asked.

  “No,” Nic said.

  “Yes,” Kyle said.

  “Good, I think,” Mace grabbed a cup and filled it with coffee. “Thought you’d want to know, Hutch, they’re ready to offload your toys now.”

  “I’ll head up in a minute to oversee. Now take your coffee and leave.”

  “Mace, you don’t have to go anywhere. I was just about to head out.” Nic walked back and picked up her dirty dishes.

  “I’m leaving, but not because of him. As soon as I finish up I’m out of here for the next two weeks,” Mace replied.

  “Where are you off to?” Kyle finished his own coffee and left the cup in the bin.

  “To see Amber and if I can save my marriage.” With that, Mace left them alone again.

  If Nic needed a reminder as to why she should keep things on the platonic level with Kyle, Mace had just given her one. Navy life was hard on relationships. Hard enough when one participant was active duty, twice as hard when both parties had signed on the dotted line.

  As she headed toward the door Kyle stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm.

  “You never answered me about tonight.”

  “Appreciate the offer, but I’ve got that appointment with the lawyer this afternoon. Something tells me I won’t be in a social mood after. Rain check?”

  “I’ll come with you,” he offered.

  It would be so easy to say yes, to let Kyle’s strength hold her up through this ordeal, to let him be her rock. Too easy in fact. Easy to get used to and easy to blur the lines.

  Before she could decline, his phone rang. He pulled out his cell and held up a finger, asking her to wait. “Mom?”

  The morning had taken a lot out of her mentally and where she had hoped over the weekend her involvement in the case would be minimal and simply put behind her, she was afraid it wouldn’t be that cut and dry. She’d know more after talking with the prosecuting attorney. Until then, until she knew how messed up her life was going to be and how long this would drag out, she didn’t have the energy or time to deal with anything else.

  Especially something that could wind up complicated.

  As Kyle concentrated on his call, Nic slipped away.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon the CO caught Nic on her way to her appointment and ordered her to take ninety-six hours liberty. Which sounded great and all, except she didn’t know anyone other than her shipmates, all of whom were at work. After a few hours of mindless TV and reading the same page over and over in her book, she hopped into her car and drove to Newport to play tourist. Wandering around The Marble House, The Breakers and The Elms left her cold and empty. The houses were grand and gorgeous, but didn’t feel like they could ever be anyone’s home. There had been a solarium at The Elms that she might have been tempted to relax in had she lived there. The rest of the place looked fragile and uncomfortable.

  She’d spent a few hours after chilling on Narragansett Beach. Or rather trying to. It being summer time, the place was packed with couples and families with lots of kids running around and digging in the sun. Not that she had anything against people, but sitting there watching everyone else have fun, talk and share the day with others drove home how alone she was.

  She’d call Lindsey or Cherise, but both were deployed.

  Dinner had been something unremarkable at a fast-food restaurant on the way home, where no one looked twice at a lone diner.

  Thursday her eyes popped open at zero-six-hundred because even though she was on forced liberty her body was on its normal schedule. She dressed and headed down to the galley for breakfast. French toast day. Thank the powers that be for small favors because she could use some feel-good carbs. She by-passed the coffee, grabbed some juice and headed toward the dining room. All eyes turned her way as she made her way to an empty table.

  They’d been back in port long enough for word to spread and if she’d had any doubt that it would or did, she’d just gotten confirmation.

  A few familiar faces passed by with morning greetings, but they didn’t join her. They were enlisted and as such wouldn’t sit with an officer, even if she were alone and dying inside for their company. The French toast turned out to be overcooked and tough. The bacon soggy and undercooked. The juice warm and sour.

  Whatever. The scale probably would have jumped up five pounds anyway and then she’d have had to work twice as hard to lose it. She dumped the food and headed back to her room, avoiding eye contact. The book sat on her nightstand where she’d left it last night. Grabbing it, she dropped on to her bed and flipped the pages back and forth. Her mind whirled. Sitting around doing nothing when there was work to be done wasn’t her style.

  Call it Catholic guilt, but she wasn’t Catholic.

  More like Navy brat upbringing. Almost the same thing, just tougher.

  They were brought up to get the job done first and then play. She tossed the book on the bed and jumped up. A quick inspection of her space scrapped the idea of cleaning her room. Less than a week’s occupancy didn’t create much of a mess. Playing tourist again held no appeal either. Unspent energy danced along her nerves like a thousand ants on the march to the ultimate picnic.

  Another three days of this and she’d lose her freaking mind.

  She stripped down and changed into workout gear. Shoved her clothes into a duffle bag and walked to the base gym. Since it was mid-morning and a weekday, only the two attendants and a couple of women and an octogenarian were there. The teen behind the counter checked her in, handed her a towel and promptly ignored her. Nic let the rudeness roll and headed for the treadmill. A good run was exactly what her body craved.

  She picked a machine in the middle and started walking, increasing her speed until she hit a light jog. The older man took up the machine to her left, smiled and within a few minutes was walking faster than her.

  “Nice day for a walk.” He winked.

  Nic smiled and picked up the pace.

  The old guy chuckled and kept on at his own speed. If she were a betting person she’d bet the table he was a retired Chief Warrant Officer or a Commander. Clearly he’d put in his twenty or more to still have access to the base, but he didn’t sound like a Chief—they tended to bark orders. A non-commanding officer would have minded their own business and kept quiet. Nope, the man next to her had style and knew how to motivate. She hoped to be like him one day. The kind of officer her crew looked up to and sought out for advice.

  For the next twelve miles she ran to the beat of her feet pounding on the treadmill, purging the unspent energy and frustration from her body.

  The machine came to a stop and Nic grabbed her towel to wipe off the sweat running down her face and neck. She turned around and came face-to-face with a man in his mid-thirties with a dark red line across his throat. He hadn’t been there when she’d arrived or she hadn’t noticed him before. Whichever, he made an impression now, eyes locked on hers. He held her gaze then let his drift down her body, lingering every few seconds before returning to meet her bored look.

&n
bsp; Chills ran down her spine.

  Did he know?

  He wasn’t from the boat. If nothing else, she would have remembered the scar because at first she’d thought it had been some weird tattoo. Now she could see the dead tissue running down the middle of the jagged line.

  Had they missed a copy of the video? If they had it wouldn’t take much for it to make in the hands of every sailor stationed in the area.

  Don’t be a ninny, she silently chided herself. Mace and the COB had been thorough in their search. Maybe the guy knew her brothers or her dad, had seen a family picture?

  She brushed the feeling away. Not everyone on the base knew about her and she had to stop imagining the worst every time someone looked her way. Chances were he was just a guy checking out a girl, thinking he was cool and sexy when in reality he was just being a cliché.

  Instead of falling prey to his game, she walked past him to the first machine and set the weight amount for her first set of reps. Finishing one machine she moved on to the next, losing herself in the count, in the burn coursing through her muscles. Maybe the CO had been right in making her take time off. Give her time to clear her head, let the boat settle down, and everyone get back to business. A couple of days in port with families, work, and normal life to occupy everyone’s brain and they’d forget about why they were back home early.

  At the end of her first circuit, she hopped on the elliptical, or the machine from Hades, as she liked to think of it. The women were spread out, a few on the stationary bikes and another two on the mats. Her admirer was on the free weights and her treadmill friend had left. Music pumped through the speakers spread throughout the room, but over head the silent TV screens were set to various programs, mainly games shows and news with closed caption running. She didn’t pay much attention until she saw the women across from her on the bikes come to a stop while staring at the screen. One of the employees pointed to the screen and she caught the word Groton over the whirl of her machine.

  Her gaze drifted to the TV in front of and she looked into her own eyes.

  Oh God, this can’t be happening.

  Her steps came to a standstill as she read the words at the bottom of the screen.

  Her name.

  Her boat.

  Her father’s name

  The whole sordid story spelled out for the world to know.

  One by one heads turned in her direction. In their eyes were pity, disappointment, disgust, and curiosity. Not that she blamed them. Grabbing her towel, she lifted her chin and walked out of the room with as much dignity as she could muster. It wasn’t much, but she’d be damned before she’d let them see how shaken she was or worse…cry. As soon as she got in the locker room she leaned back against the closed door, took a few deep breaths. Her legs shook, her stomach rolled and she raced to the bathroom before she’d lost what little breakfast she’d eaten.

  Well if she thought everything would die down and be back to normal in a couple of days, she’d better think again. Nic kicked her sneakers off into the locker and grabbed her go-bag with her toiletries and headed for the shower stall. No one else was in the room; still she waited until the curtain had been pulled close before pulling her T-shirt over her head. As she hung it on a hook a creak overhead had her looking up.

  She stood for what seemed like forever listening. When no other sounds came she slipped her yoga pants off. Her hands hesitated at her hips, thumbs hooked into the waistband of her underwear. Was that the door opening? Silence greeted her. No footsteps or talking or any sign of life. Still, the hair on the back of her neck tingled. Her gaze darted all around the small cubicle looking for any opening no matter how small.

  Labored breathing jerked her head up. She poked her head through the curtain.

  “Hello? Is anyone there?”

  Nothing. Her gaze landed on the mirror and she caught sight of her own reflections and that’s when it hit her. The hard breathing… it was hers.

  Quickly she pulled her workout clothes back on, ran to the locker, slipped her shoes on, grabbed her bag and left.

  She sent one text message on the way to her room. By the time she made the fifteen-minute walk she had her answer.

  Five hours later she boarded a plane to the one place she knew she could find peace and feel safe again…home.

  * * *

  There was nothing like a cold beer on a hot summer day while watching half a dozen babes in bikinis bounce around smacking a volleyball. Kyle took another long, slow pull of the brew and settled deeper in his beach chair. He’d have to remember to thank Bryant for dragging him out of the apartment to join the party.

  As a sailor he could appreciate the meaning behind Independence Day, but on a personal level it’d never been that big of a deal to him. When you’re a kid from a family that scrapes by from paycheck to paycheck things like fireworks and big parties didn’t fit in the budget. Since joining the Navy it basically meant he’d have a hangover the next morning.

  “Heads up.” A blonde with legs that never stopped bounded over his way to grab the ball that barely missed his head. “You should come join us.”

  “Maybe later.” He held up his bottle. “Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

  She smiled, flipped her hair and sauntered back to the game. He took another drink of his cold beer and sighed. Can’t say he’d ever done that before—turn down an invitation from a sure bet.

  All around him were people. Some he knew, others he didn’t. Families, couples, friends. People everywhere. So why did he feel like he was on a deserted island?

  He’d always enjoyed the perks of solitary life. No responsibilities. No one to boss him around. No stress. Whatever he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted. Except right then he found he didn’t want to be alone. He wanted someone to laugh with like the CO and his wife who sat a couple of feet away, whispering to each other and enjoying a private joke. Even the guy getting buried alive in sand by his daughters looked to be having more fun than him.

  Man, what was up with him? Rugrats? A wife? He glanced down at the bottle in his hand and read the alcohol content. Nope, not enough to get him drunk off half a bottle. Maybe it was hotter than he’d realized and the sun and heat had baked his brain.

  “Hutch.” Bryant waved to him, signaling to come join him and two lovely ladies in barely-there swimsuits. He pushed up out the chair, leaving the beer behind—the last thing he needed was more crazy thoughts—and reached for the cooler holding water. He’d taken no more than a few steps when his cell phone rang. Hoping Nic would call he pulled the phone out of his back pocket, but it wasn’t her.

  “Hi, Mom.” He waved Bryant off.

  “Kyle, I’m so tired. I just don’t know what to do anymore.” His mom’s voice was soft and broken. She sighed deeply and then he heard the tears.

  “Mom, talk to me. What’s going on?” Kyle walked down the beach to get away from his co-workers and find a spot with less noise. Not easy on a holiday.

  “It’s Kenny. He’s been arrested.”

  Shit, he should have guessed, but he’d been more worried about his parents’ health and safety. He stopped at the water’s edge and waited for the request. How much would his brother’s stupidity cost him this time? If his savings account got any lower it’d be running on fumes.

  “How much do you need to bail him out, Mom?”

  “None. I didn’t call for Kenny. He’s made this mess now he’ll have to face it. I’m not going to bail him out so he can sit at home until his court date just to go back to jail. It’s Keith I’m worried about. For once the two of them weren’t together so he’s not in a cell with his brother.”

  “Mom, what was Kenny arrested for?”

  “It might be easier to list what he wasn’t charged with. All I can remember right now is possession of a controlled substance with intent to sell, carrying a concealed weapon without a permit, resisting arrest, and the car he was driving was stolen. I swear you’d think I had dro
pped that boy on his head as a baby.”

  What could he say? That he’d always thought she’d dropped both of his brothers on their heads when they were little? That it wasn’t that bad? Because he had thought it and it really was bad, but she didn’t need to hear either thoughts.

  “What can I do to help?” The waves rushed at his feet, tugging him out to sea and at that moment he’d been tempted to let them wash him away. He was tired of dealing with his family’s drama.

  “Kyle, I hate to ask, but I’m afraid for Keith. This place is no good for him. It’s no good for anyone. If it hadn’t been for your grandfather, who’s to say where you’d be right now? I’m betting not a college graduate and an officer in the Navy. Your brothers didn’t have the benefit of his guidance. Instead they were stuck with two poor excuses for parents.”

  The beer he’d drunk earlier soured his stomach, which rolled as he listened to his mom. This was going somewhere and he was pretty fucking sure he wouldn’t like the destination. He swallowed the sour taste. “Mom, what are you getting at?”

  “Keith said he had nothing to do with this business Kenny is mixed up in and he didn’t know what was in the duffle bag.” She took a breath and stayed silent for a minute.

  Right. Those two were Frick and Frack, two sides to a whole, and he’d never known them not to share with the other.

  “I don’t believe him,” his mom’s soft voice broke into his thoughts. “And if he stays here, he’ll be next. I think they’re working for that man who came to our door a couple of months ago. He needs to get away from the trash he’s been running with or I’m afraid he’ll end up not in jail, but dead.”

  Kyle waded out into the water to get further away from the people on the beach. This was not a conversation for public listening. He ran his free hand through his hair, stopping at the base of his skull to put pressure on the headache forming.

  “Mom…” Out of the corner of his eye a father and son caught his attention. They were splashing each other, joking around, and wrestling in the water. Their dad had never played with them. He’d told them to do their chores, finish their homework, and to shut the hell up and let him sleep. Really what chance did the twins have? His mom was right, he’d had his grandfather, but he’d passed away before his brothers really needed him.