Her Soldier (That Girl #3)

by H. J. Bellus

  I’m not sure the question I want to ask him can come out. I know he didn’t physically kill Maxton, but his military file haunts me, and I guarantee he has plenty of strings he can pull if need be.

  “Jenni.” Beau kisses me lightly on the forehead. “I love you, and now you don’t have to worry about anything.”

  The look in his eye and the tone of his voice answers my question, leaving behind no doubt in my mind what really happened. Beau excuses himself from the table. I watch as he pays the bill and then heads outside to make a phone call.

  “My god, his response was downright scary,” Jazzy declares.

  “Well, he was right. I don’t care about Maxton, and quite frankly, he deserved more than just being run over.” My mind still doesn’t believe the cold truth of his death.

  “So, your Aunt Danielle seems to really love Beau.”

  I look right at Lynlee when I respond. “Yes, she does. He’s been over there fixing up stuff for her, and they even played cards the other night.”

  “I’m sorry I called her, but, Jenni, I saw you guys in the store that night when he flipped on that guy, and then the bruises, and you disappearing. I mean, you have to understand.”

  Leaning in on my elbows, I lay this topic to rest forever. “I don’t understand. I tried telling you it was different, but it’s okay now.”

  “I’ll miss you while I’m on the road, Jenni, even if we do fight. I still love you.”

  “I love you too, Lynlee, and always will, but I’m right this time.”

  “You always think you’re right, Jenni.” Jazzy rolls her eyes. “Okay, are you two pansy asses all good and made up?”

  We both shake our heads and do a little group hug before exiting the restaurant. Beau is leaning on the brick wall with his other hand resting on the top of his head. The look on his face doesn’t impress me, and I instantly know something is very, very wrong.

  “God damn, he’s hot, Jenni.” Jazzy pulls down her shades to get a better view. “Don’t you assholes dare tell Levi those words left my mouth, but that guy could melt panties.”

  Jazzy’s words distract me from what Beau is up to, and I laugh. “Oh, honey, you have no idea how many panties of mine he has melted.”

  “Son of a bitch, I’m going to have to Skype-sex Levi tonight.”

  “Oh my god, Jazzy, shut the hell up and let’s go. I have lots to finish packing.”

  I give each one of the girls a hug goodbye and head in Beau’s direction. His body language scares me to the point of not even wanting to touch him, so I sit in the truck. I can see him from the corner of my eye and fall apart at his reaction. When he hangs up the phone he slides down the wall onto his bottom, collapsing into a ball.

  This is when I shove open my door and run to him. Kneeling down, I can feel him shaking, and then I hear the sobs escape him.

  “Beau.”

  At this point it’s an uncontrollable sound emitting from him. I take the keys from his hand and tug on it. He follows me, and this time it’s me opening the door for him. I drive home and don’t say a word as he stares out the window. I park the car and turn off the ignition.

  “My ex-wife and daughter were in a car accident. Ella was killed on impact and my…” Sobs hit him again and he’s not able to speak another word.

  I take control of the whole situation. I’ve never felt the urge to help or heal anyone until now.

  “Beau, wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  I fly up to our apartment and unlock the door with a shaky hand. Throwing the black duffle bag on the bed, I stuff it with clothes, not even looking at the things that land in the bag, and then grab my emergency credit card. I turn down the thermostat and make sure all the lights are off before exiting the apartment. When I return to the truck, Beau is still staring out the window. He must be in shock.

  I fire the engine back up and remember the name of his hometown. Rhodes, Iowa. I’m shocked that information popped into my brain. He remains silent and doesn’t even ask a question, and this is when I know he’s really in shock. I pray to God over and over that my Beau will come back to me. I turn up the music and drive.

  The interstate is dark and lonely, but I just drive and keep driving until my eyes can’t handle it anymore. It’s been almost five hours, and Beau still hasn’t said a word, or moved for that matter. His phone rang a couple of times before I took it and put it on vibrate. Pulling off the interstate, I spot a Best Western and drive to it. I jump out and head to the front desk.

  “Good evening. How can I help you?”

  “I just need one room, please.”

  “One queen bed or two full size?”

  “One bed will be fine.”

  The friendly woman continues her barrage of questions as my mind drifts off to what I’m going to do with Beau. He never finished his comment about his daughter, and I’m not sure how to further my investigation of it. But then I don’t have the right to investigate. I just need to be here for him.

  “Here you go. Room 212. Second floor on the right.” She slides over two keys with the Wi-Fi code on them.

  “Thank you.”

  When I step out into the cold air, the truck is gone.

  “Jenni.” Beau is standing in the shadows near the building. He’s parked the truck. He points across the street to a liquor store, and I grab his hand and walk over there with him.

  “What’s your poison?” I feel awkward talking to him.

  “I just want some Crown.”

  “Okay, baby.”

  I take care of selecting the Crown and buying it. We walk back over, hand in hand, and I feel a bit relaxed knowing he’s okay holding my hand. He carries our bag and opens all the doors for me like the Beau I know. He immediately flops down on the bed and makes a phone call. I give him his space, escaping into the bathroom and starting a hot shower. It seems to be the one thing we do when we don’t know how else to fix a problem.

  The water warms super-fast, and I yelp when I scald my hand. I turn it off and go find a vending machine to get some Cokes. I locate the ice bucket and quietly excuse myself from the room. In the pit of my stomach there’s a nasty lump warning me I’ve lost Beau forever.

  When I return, he’s still on the phone, so I pour him a Coke and add some Crown to it. He sits up to drink while listening to whoever is on the other end. When I turn to walk away, he seizes the back of my leg and holds me to him. I rest my lips on the top of his head and comfort him as much as I can. I lean back as he downs the rest of his drink. This time he lets go as I mix him another. The sweet smell of the Crown fills my senses and I take sip, making sure the ratio of Crown to Coke is right.

  This time I hand it to him and don’t settle in between his legs. I go back to the bathroom and strip down naked, waiting for him to end the conversation. When I hear him say goodbye, I turn the shower back on and head out to him. I take his hand and guide him into the bathroom. He holds his drink in his other hand, drinking the rest of it as we walk.

  The bathroom is filled with steam. I pull down his pants and boxers in one swoop and then set his empty drink on the sink. His face is a bit more relaxed and I can only assume it’s from the Crown. He raises his arms and I pull his shirt up over his head. He turns for the shower and I follow him in. This time it’s all about Beau and trying to relax him as much as possible. Relaxation doesn’t come to him no matter the amount of soaping and massaging I do.

  He turns me to face the back of the shower and enters me fast and hard. My palms splay out on the wall, supporting my torso. I want to moan and scream in pleasure, but it feels selfish. I know the feeling of wanting to lose yourself completely and not face the cold truth of the present. And I let Beau have that with me. His hands wrap around the front and begin stroking me. I’m falling from the edge, holding in screams.

  Beau continues to pound into me until I hear his grunt. The next thing I hear is a bottle of soap opening, and then I feel the smooth liquid on my back and then around to my front. His hands wash d
own every single part of me, and then he moves to my hair and washes it. I let him take care of me and enjoy his touch. I spin around to face him. “I love you.”

  My lips cover his before he has a chance to speak. I don’t want to know if he’d say it back. I reach for a towel and step out of the shower, letting Beau have a few moments to himself. I’m dried off and digging around the solo bag for some lotion. I know I threw some in the bag and just need to find it. I find the pink bottle of princess lotion and my heart melts. Quickly I squeeze an ample amount into my palm and bury the bottle back into the bag.

  Slipping on my panties, I climb into bed and send up a prayer of thanks I happened to land upon a decent motel with clean sheets. I send Danielle a quick text giving her just enough information to appease her curiosity and do the same with Lynlee and Jazzy. Of course, Lynlee sends a text right back, digging for more information, and I silence my phone. My curiosity gets the best of me and I Google ‘Rhodes, Iowa car accident’ and immediately I regret the images before my eyes.

  There’s absolutely no way any survivors escaped the wreckage. Without the caption below the picture I would have no idea what the hunk of burnt metal was. It was a one-car accident, and the small car wrapped around a tree. The article clearly states the driver wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and was declared dead on arrival. It also states that a minor was involved and no further information could be disclosed.

  As I stare at the wreckage my heart weeps, knowing that no one could possibly survive the wreck. Seatbelt or no seatbelt, no way of survival. Beau enters the room and I quickly put my phone to sleep and roll over to face him. It kills me to see his posture so depressed. Yes, beyond deflated with sagging shoulders and absolutely no bounce to his step. He makes one more drink and pounds it in seconds, then I watch as he pours straight Crown Royal into the short hotel glass. He tilts his head back, letting the amber liquid glide down his throat. He does this a few more times until only a thin line of liquid remains in the bottle.

  I lightly pat the bed. The small action gets his attention. He crawls in, still naked and somewhat damp from the shower. His back is to me and I pull him in tight, cocooning him into me. My hand brushes through his damp hair. I want to whisper, “I love you,” but again feel selfish for doing so. Soon the rhythm of his breathing takes on a steady pace. I place my hand over his chest and feel it with each rise and descent. He’s out and I wonder just how long he will sleep. Will the Crown be enough to keep his past and present nightmares away?

  ***

  The bright sun is peeking through the curtains and nailing me right in the eye. I try rolling over, but Beau has me in his arms. It’s a force I can’t battle without waking him up. We are in the complete opposite position from when we both fell asleep last night. My mind didn’t give in until after three a.m. The scene on my phone wouldn’t quit invading my thoughts.

  Beau’s phone begins to vibrate on the small office table in the corner. Wiggling from his grasp, I go and grab it; I don’t even look at the screen before I race back to him. My hand begins to rock back and forth on Beau’s shoulder trying like hell to wake him. It takes several seconds before he rolls onto his back and tries to open his eyes, and by now the phone has quit vibrating.

  “Beau, wake up, baby, someone is calling you.”

  He sits straight up with my words and takes the phone from my hands. I watch as he hits redial and waits for an answer. He mostly listens, and he lets the person know we’d be there in about six hours, give or take. From the state he was in yesterday, I didn’t think he even knew what planet he was on.

  His body flops back on the bed as he drops his phone on the mattress. Retrieving his charger, I plug it in, and then make my way to the bathroom. I figure I better get dressed and ready to hit the road. And a large cup of coffee would be beneficial before heading out.

  “Jenni.”

  Cracking open the door, I peek my head around the corner with a toothbrush hanging out of my mouth. “Yeah?”

  “Come here.”

  I hold up a finger to him and then race back to the sink and spit out my toothpaste in a rush.

  “What?” I’m too nervous, so I stand near him by the bed.

  Beau tries to talk, but nothing comes out of his mouth. Finally, his hands fly up to his forehead as he scrubs it.

  “She’s not dead. Lucy isn’t dead.”

  The photo on the Internet flashes in my memory and I want to ask him if he’s sure and how he knows.

  He holds his hand out for me and I take it, letting him drag me onto the bed next to him.

  “The person calling me on the phone is an old commander of mine. He’s always stayed in contact and given me updates on Lucy. Never pictures or anything, but general updates. He always promised me he’d take care of her.”

  “What will they do to you?” The selfish aspect of this whole situation that I’ve been bottling up finally comes out.

  “If the U.S. government finds out…”

  I know what’s coming and stop it before he can go any further. “They won’t. I’ll go to the hospital and see her. I’ll do anything.”

  “Ella had no family and nothing set up for Lucy. She had Gram down to take her in case anything ever happened to her.”

  “I’ll adopt her. They’ll never connect us. Let me help you, Beau.”

  “How am I going to go see her and not be able to touch her?”

  “I don’t know.” My hands go straight to his chest. “I don’t know, Beau.”

  Chapter 13

  Six hours of straight silence. Beau takes a couple calls, but doesn’t share any information with me and I don’t ask him to. I follow the directions on my phone and pull into the sleepy little town. Beau points out his gram’s bakery, and it’s disheartening to see the window broken out and weeds overpopulating the window baskets. It’s a beautiful building, and I can so easily visualize it in its prime.

  I don’t ask him which hotel to stay in. When he was showering off his alcohol smell this morning, I searched different hotels and found the one that might be the most secluded and least likely to have onlookers spotting Beau. However, I saw the proof in the folder. I’d be shocked if someone recognized him as Jeremiah. We settle into the small and very musty hotel room.

  “Beau, please talk to me. I don’t want to push, and I won’t, but please talk.”

  “The memorial service is tomorrow afternoon. I guess Ella recently was saved by Christ and attended a church after her last live-in moved out.” His hands strum the counter. “They’re hosting the funeral. Lucy was released from the hospital today with only burns and a few bruises. The pastor and his wife have her.”

  I don’t inch my way near him, as I can already sense his tension level is through the roof. “Are you going?”

  “Yes, I want to see my Lucy.”

  “Okay, Beau.”

  “Does that make me a bad guy?’

  I tilt my head, trying to process his question. In no shape or form does it make him a bad guy.

  “I vowed to my country to serve and protect.”

  “She’s your daughter and you have to heal and feel what you need to. Beau, I don’t understand all of the legality shit, I’m only here for you.”

  I wait for his response, and nothing comes, only the silence. Silence in an unfamiliar place for hours upon hours with the one you love at their worst. There’s no Band-Aid to offer them or a corny joke; no, it’s the harsh reality of watching them suffer minute after minute.

  ***

  When we enter the church it never dawns on me who we are if people ask. We spent the last day in silence. Beau took a couple calls and then hit the bottle, passing out frequently. The only comfort he offers me now is he’s holding my hand as we walk in. He passes up the guest book and picks up a piece of paper from a small table covered in cream lace and doilies.

  A young man in a suit and tie offers to take us to a seat. Beau simply declines with a wave of his hand and turns to sit in the back row. We arrive with plenty
of time before the ceremony and watch as the church benches fill. I didn’t know Ella, but the sadness covering everyone’s face is evident and heartbreaking.

  Beau has mentioned ill feelings and not the nicest of words about his ex, who cheated and lied as a way of life, but even I know he’d never wish her dead. He always claimed she was the best mother a girl could have, but never offered up any further details.

  I notice the urn at the front of the church and know a casket won’t be entering the sanctuary today. Flowers cover all the surfaces around the podium and mic. A light music fills the air and people begin walking down the aisle. Beau squeezes my hand every so often, and I wonder if he’s recognizing old faces. Soon a man carrying a Bible and holding the hand of the most beautiful little girl stands at the back of the church and all eyes fall on them.

  The little girl with her dark brown eyes and jet black hair steals all of the attention. She’s in a teal dress with plenty of lace and fluff. Her little legs are wrapped in gauze, as is her left arm. Her cheeks are a flushed crimson and her eyes are a bit swollen. The pressure of Beau squeezing my hand almost causes me to cry. The pain is surreal and can’t measure up to anything I’ve ever felt.

  Using my other hand, I wrap around his midsection for extra comfort. His body quivers as he stares at her. When she begins to walk, he takes several long strides to the end of the bench. We are the only ones in the back row, so he gets about ten steps before he’s at the end. One simple action of reaching out his arm and he could touch his own flesh and blood.

  A strange man steps into our section, blocking Beau from making any contact. His glare is serious and all warning. I notice Beau immediately bow to him and back off, and I assume it’s his commander. After giving him a slight nod, his eyes follow Lucy again to the front of the church.

  I sit in a haze through the service and cling to Beau’s hand as we sit in the pew. The man on his other side nods to me a couple of times, acknowledging my presence. When the service is over and the pastor and friends walk back down the aisle, we are all again magnetized to the little girl holding the pastor’s hand. This time when she passes she stops at our row and looks up at Beau and offers him a little wave.