“Yeah, me too. I don’t think I fit in with civilian life anymore. I’m always thinking about what’s happening at the base, about Blake and Sanderson, what they’re doing, joking about, that sort of thing. I’m never here mentally. I think what I’m trying to say is, I’m going back before my leave time is up.”
A loud patter of Michelle’s bare feet slapped the floorboards as she ran from her bedroom, along the hallway and into the front room. Almost breathless, she asked, “You’re going back? But you’ve only been back just over a week.”
“I can’t say that I’m not shocked you were listening to our conversation. But, yes, I’m going back. I need to, and I hope you can understand that.”
“No! No, I don’t. Why would you want to go back there? Haven’t you risked your life enough times? Fuck, Gray, did you even tell Tabatha that you’re seeing a shrink?”
“Danielle’s not a shrink.”
“Whoa, this is getting out of hand,” Tabatha said firmly, and stood, ready to leave.
Michelle turned her back on Gray, and folding her arms across her chest she huffed, “She’s got PTSD.”
“What?”
“Why don’t you explain to her, Gray? Tell her about your dreams and night sweats. It’s not going to stop just after one visit to the shrink.”
“For the last time, she’s not a shrink. And for your information, the negative feelings started when I came back here. I’m going, Michelle, and that’s the end of it.”
“Fine!”
Rubbing the back of her neck, Gray slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry, Michelle. We shouldn’t be fighting like this, it’s not right. And Tabatha, yes, we’ll keep in touch, I’d like that.”
“And I’d like for you to stay for the rest of your leave, but that’s not going to happen, is it?”
Tabatha headed over to the door, closely followed by Gray. She turned around quickly, their shoulders brushing in the process. “I just want to give you some friendly advice. Make sure you’re mentally ready to go back.”
“I am, Tabatha. Just out of curiosity, what are you going to do now?”
“Oh, my agent had networks offering me jobs as soon as I told him. I’m considering signing with one in particular, as they seem to be quite flexible, and will give me a say in what I do. I think I’ve earned that.”
“Well, whatever you choose to do, I look forward to seeing you on TV, looking hot and sexy.”
“Make sure you do.” Unable to fight against her thoughts, she leaned in a little, and with a confident half-smile, she raised her hand to Gray’s shoulder and pulled her in close, and savored a prolonged, soft kiss.
Slowly parting from their touch, Gray felt comforted in a way she’d never felt with anyone else. She placed her hand over Tabatha’s, and tilting her head, she asked, “You don’t have to go right away, do you?”
Lowering her gaze, Tabatha sheepishly shook her head, understanding Gray’s intentions were less honorable than offering her a coffee.
Gray placed her finger beneath Tabatha’s chin and raised her face, noticing for the first time how soft her skin was. “Look at me,” she said tenderly. “You scare me, and not because of anything bad, but because you stir emotions deep inside me that I don’t even understand myself. I’m scared that if I give myself, my true self, to someone, that they’ll hurt me just like Nikki did. I’m scared to go through with another heartbreak, but my body’s fighting me on it. I want to take you to my bedroom, close the door and make love to you—”
“Then, why don’t you?” Tabatha whispered in a steady lower-pitched tone, while gazing deeply into Gray’s eyes.
Gray actively listened to the determination cast upon her, and dismissing her own negative thoughts, she led Tabatha down the hallway to her bedroom, and once inside, she closed the door with a soft push, lingering her hold on the door handle. She slowly turned around and faced the blue-eyed beauty, her perfume sending her into an intoxicating trance, as she felt a shiver ripple through her soul. “This could be a moment I never want to end.”
“This is a moment I want to begin,” Tabatha replied, with an alluring, mellow voice, her head lowered, while she cast her gaze upward. And with her chest rising with each deep breath inhaled, and decreasing as she breathed out steadily, she waited for Gray’s next move.
“Fuck, I feel awkward. Like it’s our first time.”
“Then I’ll take charge.” She edged forward, holding her hands out for Gray to take, and once their fingers locked, she pulled her in close.
Gray’s heartrate accelerated, indicating to her what her body wanted—she allowed Tabatha to take control, because she felt safe, and wanted.
Guiding Gray, Tabatha eased her into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, and sank to her knees between her thighs. She ran her hands over the tops of her legs, stirring up evocative thoughts, and a receptive smile, as she massaged her like a contented, purring cat.
Supporting herself on her elbows, Gray closed her eyes and threw her head back in the intoxicating act of passion, whispering Tabatha’s name as her hands trailed over her hips. “Fuck me,” she groaned under her breath.
“I intend to.” Slowly, she unbuttoned Gray’s jeans, and gradually tugged them down her legs, until Gray slipped her feet out and kicked them aside. Then, kissing over her warm, muscular thighs, the taste of salt coated her lips, while she swept her hands over the smooth skin.
A soft moan escaped through Gray’s lips, as she dug her fingers into the bedcover, and gripped hold of the material, while her stress simply melted away. Each tender kiss simulated raw silk rippling over her, exciting her, and intoxicating her awakened mind, and while her stomach fluttered and her pulse raced, she had a strange sense of feeling safe in the hands that were caressing her.
Tabatha placed her hands beneath Gray’s buttocks and slid her closer, then snuggled her shoulders under her legs—her mouth now inches away from Gray’s opening. She exhaled her warm breath over her clit, and while everyday life continued to flow beyond the bedroom door, she made love to the woman who’d rescued her, and taken a piece of her heart.
Chapter Eighteen
Memories flashed through Gray’s mind while she sat in an overstuffed chair, drumming her fingers on the coffee-colored fabric that covered the armrest. She thought about her last words to Iggy, and still felt she was partly to blame for his death.
“Recall your emotions at the time of Iggy’s death, Gray.” Danielle said softly.
Trusting her a little more, Gray sat forward and rested her elbows on her knees, and picked at her fingernails, while giving constant glances to the clock on the wall. “I was angry. And I suppose a little hurt.” The corner of her eye twitched involuntarily, making her very aware of its movement.
Danielle offered a sympathetic smile. “That’s understandable.”
“Is it? Because on top of that, I wanted to kill those bastards, and I don’t regret having no remorse, either. It’s kill, or be killed, and I know which outcome I want. No one knows how crazy it is unless they experience the kind of life a Marine lives. If you allow your emotions to get the better of you, then you allow yourself the chance to falter, and that will get you and your unit injured or killed. That’s why Iggy died.” She sat up straight, folded her arms across her chest, and tapped her foot furiously.
“It seems as though you’ve gathered up all of your emotions into one, and now you’re having difficulty separating them in civilian land.”
“That’s never happened to me before. I’m not the type to scream and cry over things, but right now I just want to fucking scream my lungs out.”
“It’s not a weakness to allow your emotions to surface. In fact, releasing them can alleviate what you’re experiencing. Try it. Just scream.”
Realizing she’d been mentally paralyzed over the past few weeks, she slowly stood and walked over to the window. Placing her fisted hands on the window ledge, she looked out at the trees being whipped around by the torrential downpour, then,
from deep within her, she let out an adrenaline surged scream. Her eyes widened and her mouth unyielding and open, she felt a sense of control over her emotions.
“You were close to Iggy, and his death may have triggered something inside you. It’s not happening to you now, you’re safe.”
With her gaze lowered, Gray slowly turned around. “Please stop saying Iggy’s death. I know he’s…dead.” She raised her tearful gaze, her eyes almost pleading for the torment to stop.
“Breathe slowly, Gray, and try to stay in touch with your feelings. Put your focus into your heart, and invite life back into it. Connect with the compassion you crave for, it will really help you.”
Gray closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, then exhaled a lengthy breath. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“It’s not your fault that Iggy died.”
It was almost disturbing to Gray to hear those words spoken. Between sturdy subjection and guilty exemption, she’d automatically assumed the blame, but that blame had been a traumatic defense in a world she couldn’t control. She turned to gaze out of the window again. It was still raining, and the leaves were being battered by the downpour and the lifting wind. In a calm, quiet tone, she said, “I didn’t kill Iggy.” She slowly turned to look at Danielle’s reaction, unsure if she was judging her.
With her elbows rested on the desk, and her hands clasped together in front of her mouth, Danielle aired a look of compassion, with her softened gaze and slightly tilted head. She gave a single approving nod, then looked down at the notes she’d written throughout their session. “Therapy can be intimidating sometimes, but I sense you’ve just found a new understanding about yourself.”
“Thank you for not judging me.”
“I’m not in the practice of judging anyone. I listen, and I study. It’s not for me to tell you what to do, but for you to find how you can get back to living your life without feeling as though the whole world’s against you. You do all the hard work.”
Gray let out a delicate, diminishing sigh. “I had an argument with Michelle. She’s my best friend, and we also share an apartment together, and I feel like I owe her an apology. She’s always been there for me, and I just ignored her feelings and thought about my own. It looks like I have some making up to do.” She stood and stepped toward Danielle’s desk, holding her hand out to shake.
Danielle shook her hand, and with a warm smile, she walked Gray to the door. “You’re on the right track.”
“Thank you, Danielle. Sometimes a complete stranger can listen better than someone close.” She opened the door, and with her head held high, she walked out of the office feeling enlightened.
•••
Entering the apartment, Gray was greeted by Zabba, who playfully jumped on his hind legs and bunted her face to show his affection. She kissed the top of his head and affectionately rubbed his neck.
“Did you miss me?” she asked with a playful tone in her voice. The sound of Michelle’s voice, singing out of tune, came from the bathroom, and Gray unzipped her coat, hung it in the closet next to the front door, then made her way down the hall to the bathroom, where Michelle was making her presence known. Not thinking twice about opening the door, she stepped into the bathroom…a huge miscalculation on her behalf.
“Ahh, what the fuck, Gray?”
Seeing that Michelle wasn’t alone, Gray stepped back and closed the door. “I’m sorry, I just thought…I don’t know what I thought. I’m sorry.” She knew Michelle was seeing someone, but it had escaped her mind with everything else going on. God, she’s never going to let me live this one down, although the look of shock on her face was priceless.
Just as she was about to walk away, the door swung open, and out stepped Michelle, with a white fluffy towel wrapped around her, and the strands of her wet hair stuck to her shoulders and back. She sucked in her cheeks and pouted her mouth as if she was waiting for an apology, which Gray freely offered.
“So, you think it’s all right just barging in on me like that?”
“Oh God, no. If I’d have known you were with someone, I wouldn’t have opened the door. It’s not like we don’t sit and chat together when one of us is in the shower. I just wanted to come and apologise to you for being an ass about things.”
Michelle closed the bathroom door, and in a quiet voice, said, “This is her, the one I told you about, and I don’t want anything to mess it up. She’s cool, but I don’t think she’s that cool that she’ll allow you to barge in on us. Besides, my face must have been a picture, so God knows what she must be thinking.”
“Well, maybe you should go back in there and find out.”
“Saskia.”
“What?”
Leaning in close with her hand to the side of her mouth to prevent her voice from carrying, Michelle whispered, “Her name is Saskia.” She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as she took a step back, smirking with a touch of arrogance. “You know, I feel like she’s cast a wicked spell of lust over me. No rest for the wicked, eh?” she said, and pushed the bathroom door open. “Laters.”
Although she hadn’t been introduced to Saskia, Gray sensed an overwhelming wealth of satisfaction warm her, as if she knew Michelle was going to be okay when she left for Jelawur.
Chapter Nineteen
An edginess stirred within Gray as the flight to Kandahar took off from the air base in Germany. She thought about Michelle waving her off at Tacoma International Airport, and how she’d acted like her mother. She’d told her to stay safe, and wear extra protection, and fussed over her like she was five years old. And then she thought about Iggy, how it was going to be different without him. It was hard for her to ignore the anxiety coursing through her, and there was no escaping it, but she had to shake it off before she arrived back in Afghanistan.
A Marine sat in the seat next to her, clenching his fists on his lap, and grinding his teeth beneath his deep flushed cheeks.
“This is my third deployment,” Gray informed him, sensing he was nervous.
He broke a quick smile and whipped a glance at her, then to the other Marines. “This is my first.”
“Okay, that’s cool. Just think of it like the first day of school. You don’t know anyone, but it won’t take you long to make friends. I’m Lance Corporal Lara Grayson. See, you just made a friend already.” She held out her hand for him to shake.
“Lance Corporal Devin Henderson,” he replied, taking her hand in his and firmly shaking it.
“Oh, and this is Zabba.”
Devin looked down to the floor where she was pointing. Between her feet lay a dog, sleeping. “Nice looking dog.”
“Thanks, but he’s more than a dog to me. He’s my partner, and he’s saved many lives.”
“The noise and the vibrations are making me feel sick, and it’s so cold,” he quietly complained, trying not to let the others hear him.
“Military cargo planes are something to get used to, but some like to joke and say it beats walking. I have to question that. Oh, did you grab anything to eat before you boarded?”
“Yeah, I was advised to do that, now I see why.” He lowered his gaze to look down at his lap, then closed his eyes. “Best get as much sleep as I can.”
•••
By the time the aircraft landed at the military air base in Kandahar, cooling dusk air had replaced the day’s heated temperatures. Gray picked up her duffle bag, and with Zabba, shuffled their way along with the other Marines, to leave the aircraft. Lance Corporal Henderson followed them.
They entered an area through a checkpoint, with a wired metal chain-link fence, where an on-duty guard directed them to where they needed to go. Marines lined the ground with their duffle bags and gear, all waiting to be taken to their destinations. There were a few who smiled, some who’d been away and had re-united with a company member, and then there were those whose faces were filled with concern. Marines were being herded like cattle on a ranch, and directed to their assigned flights.
“Well, I th
ink this is where we part ways,” Gray said to Henderson, standing on the warm, rugged ground, with her hand held out to shake his.
Heavily armored Chinooks were taking off, or flying in to land; most had been on combat missions, either from the US, UK, Australian, or Netherland forces. Their magnificent silhouette against the darkening sky gave them a presence of mighty beast warriors not to be messed with, but their charm and ideals had their drawbacks…dust, lots of it, kicked up by the blades, swarmed around in the air and enveloped everything it touched.
“Take care, Lance Corporal Grayson,” Henderson said as he shook her hand.
“Gray. I go by Gray. Now get and find your ride.” She turned swiftly, and with Zabba close to her side on his leash, she strode toward a troop of Marines headed in the direction of a Chinook about to take off. “I’m headed for Jelawur,” she said loudly under the building noise of the engine.
One of the Marines glanced at her, then shook his head to identify they weren’t going anywhere near her direction.
She looked around at other choppers readying to take off, and took immediate action to march to the next closest bird. Again, she was met with a negative, but her third attempt at hitching a ride on a bird paid off.
Even though the flight was protected by a background of dark sky, it held a false sense of security flying through the air, as they were still under the threat of a missile attack from the Taliban. At any point from take-off to landing, they could be engaged by firefights.
Two Marines looked at the ground through a window, one of them pointed and said, “There it is.” He glanced over his shoulder at the Marine he was speaking to and continued, “That’s the bird that came down yesterday afternoon. They were coming in to land, and were at about thirty-feet, when the rotor downwash stirred up dust and caused the pilot to lose all visibility.”
Marine Page 11
