Brianna's Navy SEAL

by Natalie Damschroder

  "I made him do pushups,” Cable said.

  They filed into the little room that looked, surprisingly to Brianna, just like the observation rooms on TV. Long and narrow, the room contained a row of straight chairs and a large window that was obviously two-way. On the other side of the glass, the man who'd drugged her sat at a table, looking insolent.

  She'd expected emotion, but not the rage that flooded her. She wanted to smash through the window, take the asshole by surprise, and pound on his face. She inhaled deeply, held it, and let it seep out. Cable watched her until she'd relaxed.

  "You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Just don't let me near the fucker."

  The expletive startled a laugh out of him. They all sat in front of the mirror, and a man Brianna hadn't noticed before settled at a little table with a legal pad.

  "Do you recognize this man?” Tom asked.

  "He's the one who drugged me."

  They walked her through her statement as she described, again, the events of the other night and confirmed that James Omeron, the man in the other room, had been one of the men. Then Cable confirmed his former relationship with the man, and the transcriber left the room.

  "That's all we'll need now,” Tom told them, rubbing his hands together. “The prosecutor will be in touch with you both about possible testimony."

  "Possible?” Brie asked. Surely they had enough to charge and try him.

  Tom nodded. “He has to be arraigned first, and probably won't make bail if the prosecutor can convince the judge he's still a danger. Then he could plead guilty, which means no trial. Or his attorney could make a motion that derails the whole thing. You never know. It could be years before anything happens."

  "Will you put us on a notification list if he's released at any point?” Cable requested, and Tom agreed. Then he ushered them back outside.

  "Seems anticlimactic,” Brie said as they descended the steps of the station. “After all the drama of the attack, I expected a bigger deal."

  "Don't knock it.” Cable's tone was flat, and she knew things hadn't changed. He still planned to end it. And she didn't know how to stop him.

  The rest of the visit passed uneventfully, with neither of them saying very much, while Alena cast worried and angry looks at them alternately.

  "Thanks for coming, sweetie, even if it wasn't the best New Year for you.” She hugged Brianna. “Keep in touch, okay?"

  "I will.” Brie hugged her back. Despite what had happened and what was coming, she'd made a friend, one she knew she'd value. “I have your e-mail address and phone number. And snail mail address,” she added when Alena pulled a pen out of her pocket.

  "I expect more than holiday cards, you know.” She glared fiercely at her brother. “He doesn't have to sign them.” Her smile was sad when she turned back to Brianna. “Call me."

  It was obvious she knew this relationship was over, too, and Brianna wondered if she was the only one who didn't think it was a good idea.

  She thought about that on the flight and then the drive home. Cable had replaced his Expedition with a Highlander hybrid. Brianna liked it much better, but decided, by the time Cable pulled into her driveway, that her opinion on his vehicle was less than meaningless.

  Cable turned off the ignition and they sat for a minute, silent. She didn't want to, but eventually Brianna asked if he wanted to come in.

  Cable looked at her. “Not tonight. I'll help you with your stuff—"

  "I've got it.” If he wasn't going to break up with her tonight, she didn't want to deal with the agony of having him near. “It's only one bag.” She climbed out of the truck and sighed when Cable did, too. But he only retrieved her suitcase from the back and handed it to her. Without a kiss, or a touch. But wearing that goddamned somber expression, like he regretted what he knew he was going to do.

  She couldn't face it anymore.

  "Thanks for the trip, Cable. I enjoyed your family.” She turned away before he could respond, and he didn't follow her.

  CHAPTER 14

  School was typically crazy the next day, trying to get the kids to settle down after the long break. It didn't help that it snowed in the middle of the day. Just a dusting, not enough to make travel dangerous, but enough to make the kids prefer oohing and ahhing out the window to doing math tiles or spelling pretests. Brianna only got a glimpse of Cable in the hall as he brought his afternoon class to his room and she led hers to phys ed. He smiled normally, but his eyes had the same expression he'd worn the night before.

  He stopped at her room after the kids had been dismissed.

  "You want to do dinner?” he asked, leaning on the doorjamb. He wouldn't even come into the room.

  "No, thanks.” She prowled, restoring loose supplies and retrieving dropped papers. “I'd prefer you just do it now."

  "Do what?"

  She stopped, exasperated. “Shall I lead you through it?” She lowered her voice. “Brianna, I don't think we should see each other anymore. It's too dangerous.” Back to her normal voice. “But Cable, danger is everywhere. Lois Joyson was killed in the construction zone two weeks ago. I know, Brianna, but I can't deliberately put you in danger. It's not fair to you.” She stopped and sighed. “The truth is, Cable, it's not fair to you, either. I can argue all I want to about the fact that I'm already in danger, that people know I'm close to you, and that they won't care if you break up with me. I can tell you that you can protect me better if we're together. But just as you can't put me in danger, I can't put you in fear.” That truth weighed more heavily than his intentions did. She sat in one of the little chairs at the art table, weary.

  "I love you, Cable, so I can't put you under that kind of pressure."

  Cable stared at her, not liking the way this was going. She'd been right on the money about his arguments, but he hadn't anticipated hers. And now he wanted to argue the other side. The reasons why they should stay together. Because it didn't feel so noble now, trying to separate her from him. It felt cowardly.

  "I'm okay, Cable.” She straightened, took a deep breath, and stood. “I understand. And I want you to be safe. Maybe you never will be, but I'll always make you less so."

  Still he didn't know what to say. “I never wanted this, Brie."

  "I know.” She retrieved her bag from her desk and flipped off the lights. She was close enough to embrace now, but he knew that would be a mistake. She looked up at him, and unshed tears glistened. He felt a flutter of panic and squashed it.

  "You can't run from your past.” She blinked, which made a tear fall. She didn't wipe it away. “Sid turned out to not be a threat, and Gip was caught, but how many more are there? I can't let you always wonder who's next.” She grimaced. “And to be honest, I don't think I could live with that tension, either.” She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “I'll see you around."

  He watched her lock her classroom door and walk down the hall, her stride containing no energy. He hated the hole this opened up in his life, in his chest. A hole he'd always thought would be filled someday. That he thought had been filled. But now he wondered how he could have thought it. How he could have believed he could break his past, present, and future into parts that had no bearing on each other. Brianna was right. Someone new could always arise to threaten those he cared about. Brianna, her family, his family. His kids.

  His heart stuttered in his chest.

  His kids.

  * * * *

  "Is there a true threat?” Steve Dvorak asked again, pacing around Cable and his desk in a fretful circle. “I mean, have they sent letters threatening the kids or anything?"

  "No.” Cable had gone into combat mode. Complete stillness and absence of emotion had descended on him, and he'd carried that with him to the principal's office. “There have been no direct threats or announcements of intentions. I don't think the person who torched my truck has anything to do with my past, and he wouldn't hurt the kids. He's just a jealous suitor."

  "Ah.” Steve nodded. “Ken
Salzer. Brianna talked to me about him. There's no proof of his involvement, I understand, so she didn't go to the police.” His lips curved briefly. “I believe Brianna has adequately taken care of Ken. However, there is the matter of her abduction in Florida.” He glanced at Cable out of the corner of his eye. “Will this Gip character send someone else after you? Does he know where to find you?"

  "Carothers did. He Googled me. If that piss-ant can figure it out, so can these guys. They're organized, equipped, and focused.” He shook his head. “I don't think they'll do anything without Gip's leadership, and he's not used to leading from jail. His network doesn't extend that far."

  Steve stopped pacing and looked out the window. “We don't have any substitutes available to take over your class."

  "I think you should start looking.” It was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to say. “There have been three attacks on me, my property, or people I care about. I can't assume no one else is a threat. I can't risk putting these kids in danger."

  "Of course not. But we have no evidence that they are.” He turned back, looking determined. “We'll try to obtain a new substitute. I don't think we'll be able to get Dina back from maternity leave, but I'll contact her first. If she won't, I'll get right on finding a replacement.” He peered anxiously at him from under his eyebrows. “You'll stay on until we find one?"

  Cable stifled a sigh. Once he'd realized the danger, he'd wanted to get far from everyone. But Steve wasn't wrong. He didn't know there was danger. And he couldn't leave them without a good educator, either. “All right. I'll stay. But don't dally about it, Steve."

  "Of course not.” But he looked relieved, and Cable knew he'd have to keep the pressure on or he'd be “forgetting” to get around to it.

  He trudged out of the school, feeling heavier than he ever remembered. He'd had responsibility for a lot of people in his life. The citizens he protected as a cop, the perpetrators he tried to bring to justice, and his fellow officers on the force. Then his SEAL team, the men he fought with and the men he led. Knowing any of them could die at any time was a burden, but it had been tempered by the knowledge that they'd chosen to be there.

  How could he put that burden on anyone else?

  Brianna could handle it. He knew she could. She'd shown that in Florida. But why would she want to?

  She didn't, he reminded himself. She'd agreed to remove herself from the equation. But the kids were a whole different matter, something he'd never considered when he went into teaching.

  Images from war tried to interpose themselves over the images of his fresh-faced, eager students. He didn't let them, but the drive home seemed three times longer than normal.

  He hoped Steve found someone soon.

  * * * *

  The month and a half after New Year's sped by. Brianna knew Cable had asked for a replacement. He was pushing Steve every day to find one, but the principal wasn't trying very hard. Cable had faced skepticism and prejudice at first, but the kids adored him and were doing extremely well, and the parents had started campaigning to get Cable a permanent position.

  Brianna had joined the push, asking Steve every day, even recommending her mother take over the class, no matter how unqualified she was to do so. Watching Cable across the hall was torture. Sitting near him at staff meetings drove her bonkers because she could smell him, and couldn't take her eyes off the long legs he always stretched way out in front of him. But nothing either of them said could create a full-time sub out of thin air.

  "Happy Valentine's Day!” Alena chirped when Brianna picked up the phone one morning before school. Alena was a definite morning person, night person, and everything in between. But today, she sounded not only more chipper than usual, but far more chipper than Brianna wanted to hear.

  "Hi, Leni. Happy VD to you, too."

  Alena laughed at Brie's disgruntlement, which just made it worse. She thought her brother would come around any moment. In fact, she probably thought today was a good moment. She didn't realize the decision had been mutual.

  "What's up?” Brie asked, mindful of the clock.

  "Gip's pleading guilty."

  Her breath caught. “You're kidding.” She never thought he would do that.

  "Nope. Apparently, he's made a few enemies while building his network. Enemies with guys in jail. He pled down so he could be incarcerated in a different prison, where he'll probably be safer."

  "That's great.” She couldn't say anything more eloquent than that. She wanted to use the information, take it to Cable to convince him they were safe and could be together. She missed him so much.

  But it didn't change anything. She hadn't agreed to end things because of Gip, but because of what Gip represented.

  "I appreciate the call,” she said. “I have to get to school, so you guys have a great romantic day."

  "You, too. Make sure Cable treats you right today, sis."

  She hung up before Brianna could do more than sigh. It didn't matter. She didn't have to be married to Cable to have a sister-like relationship with Alena.

  Brianna had never been one of those women who got bitter and resentful on Valentine's Day. But this year, the heart flags on the poles downtown, the two-for-one specials at the romantic restaurants, and the overabundance of pink and lace at school dragged her mood lower than she could remember, even considering the recent past.

  She was setting out supplies before the kids arrived when Cable got to school. She recognized the sound of his footsteps, the jingle of his keys as he unlocked his door. She stood watching him like a moon-eyed teenager as he went into his room, removed his leather jacket, and hung it in his closet.

  God, he was gorgeous.

  The door closed, and it felt stupidly final. She wanted to ask how he dare cut them off when they what they had was so good, but she had made the decision as much as he had. She stood, unmoving, perfectly symbolic of her inertia regarding their future.

  Which was stupid. She tossed the sheaf of papers to the table and stalked across her room, determined to convince Cable that they shouldn't let their enemies dictate their lives. It was cliché, but living around what might happen, sacrificing the things that made him happy, meant the bad guys won without lifting a finger.

  But as she reached the door, the hall filled with students coming from the cafeteria, where they gathered in classroom groups when they got off the busses, and she was forced back into her room to do her job.

  The rest of the day was one of her worst. The kids were too young for any romanticism, even though there were a few giggle-inducing crushes. But they talked about their parents and their older siblings and what mushy-gushy plans they had, and by the end of the day Brianna's anger had reached an intolerable level.

  Shortly after the kids left her mother came in, coat already on, knit hat covering her dark hair.

  "Brie, dear, do you want to come over for dinner tonight?"

  Brianna raised her eyebrows. “It's a little late to be asking me. Aren't you and Dad going out?"

  "No, of course not."

  Brianna snorted. Her mother was such a bad liar.

  "Okay, I thought you'd have your own plans with Cable, and just learned you don't.” Her eyes filled with pained sympathy. “So..."

  "Thanks, Mom, but I don't need pity. Everything's fine.” She shoved her spelling tests into her tote bag and added the math papers from yesterday's homework. “I'm actually babysitting Joey for Kira and Jake,” she lied. She'd offered, but Kira had a babysitter.

  "Oh.” Understanding dawned on Elyse's face. “Ohhhhh. Okay, then. That's nice. They need some time to themselves. It's good of you to give up your evening."

  Brie would have jumped on the opportunity to avoid sitting home grading papers. The only thing more pathetic than that would have been going out with Ken Salzer.

  "You and Dad have a good time tonight."

  "We will, thanks.” But instead of leaving, her mother came in and closed the door. “What happened, Brianna?"

&nbs
p; "Didn't Cable tell you?” She instantly regretted her snideness, but Elyse didn't flinch.

  "No. And I haven't said anything because I thought you'd come to me when you were ready to talk. I don't know why, you never do. But it's obvious there's something wrong. He hasn't been to dinner in weeks."

  Brianna really didn't want to tell her mother about her abduction or the risks that might still be out there, despite their breakup. Elyse wasn't the hysterical type, but she wouldn't be thrilled. And she'd tell Brianna she was doing the right thing, and that would make Brianna madder. If that were possible.

  "Someday, Mom. Maybe."

  "All right.” She moved to leave. “Then I'll see you tomorrow."

  Brianna followed her out and locked her door, disappointed to see that Cable had left. She wasn't sure what she would have done if he hadn't. Saner thoughts had warred with her neediness throughout the day. It wouldn't do any good to go talk to him. If their nobleness was going to mean anything, they had to stay completely apart.

  Forever.

  * * * *

  "I really appreciate you doing this on short notice.” Jake watched Cable lift Joey up over his head and settle him on his shoulders. “Watch the doorways, little man,” he told his son.

  "Don't worry, we got it.” Cable started cruising the room, making horse noises.

  "We goddat, Daddy,” Joey parroted, giggling as Cable tilted him sideways to bank around a corner.

  "Yeah, I see. So, thanks, man."

  "I didn't have anything better to do,” Cable admitted. “Grading papers."

  "Why aren't you and Brie going out?"

  Leave it to a brother-in-law to ask the blunt question. Cable ducked under the bedroom doorjamb and headed down the hall so Jake couldn't see how much the answer bothered him.

  "Didn't the grapevine give you the answer to that already?"

  "Kira told me her mother found out you guys broke up.” He snorted. “I sound like one of the kids."

  "Yeah, and not exactly like a normal dude.” He set Joey on his feet next to a pile of blocks that the toddler immediately knocked over. Straightening, Cable frowned at Jake. “Guys don't talk about this stuff."