CHAPTER SIX:
January 23, 2012
Chad
It was just a little after six as I sat on the bench ledge of the bay window in our bedroom. Our bedroom, I laugh to myself as I think about how long I've waited to call it that. Rhea was laying on her side, facing away from me, her hair spread out over the pillow making her look like she had a halo. When it came to me, she did have a halo, she was my angel. My saving grace, my safe retreat and she was finally mine. Her breathing was even and deep, her side rising and falling, the sheets moving just a little with each breath, giving a peek of her raven tattoo that was across her spine, in between her shoulder blades.
I sighed, leaning the back of my head on the sill as I think about that tattoo and what it means to Rhea. It's a jet black raven, it's wings spread wide [being about maybe four inches across], its beak holding the SEAL Trident, one of its talons holding a red rose with a thorny stem, the birds eyes being red. She got it after Randy died, the raven being his favorite bird, and he had one tattooed on his upper arm, its talons carrying an M-4, our service weapon.
I know my leaving will kill her a little inside every day I'm gone, but I have my duty. I'm an American soldier. I'm a Navy SEAL. I carry my country's burden, I do their bidding without question. I go head first into battle, defending the weak and uprooting the evil. I've seen more places and killed more people than I'd like to remember, fire fights and battle strategies mingling in my mind at all times. I could issue simple commands and sentences in more languages than most people come into contact within their lifetime.
Duke was lucky I hadn't slit his throat in that restaurant last night, Rhea's hand in mine under the table being the only thing that kept me grounded. If she hadn't been there I'd be in jail right now and Duke would be either dead or dying, and I close my eyes, silently thanking God for her. I don't like the idea of leaving her, in fact I hate it, and I can't stand the idea of leaving her to be pestered by a son of a bitch like Duke Orr. It bothered me when she told me that she had slept with him, but I couldn't hold it against her. I had never staked my claim, never told her that I wanted her to be mine till now, so I couldn't blame her for being lonely.
I really didn't want to fight Duke, but at the same time I did, I wanted to kick his ass, but I didn't want to fight him because it would only bring trouble. I could see Duke egging me on then filing charges against me, ruining any kind of life that I'm trying to build. My hand clenches around my coffee mug as I think about what I'd do to Duke if he touches Rhea when I'm gone, the coffee sloshing onto my boxers as my hand shakes from the rage. Rhea stirs, making one of her little sleeping sounds as she rolled onto her back, her face turning on the pillow towards me, her hand coming up and sloppily swiping the hair from her face. Her arm stretched out to where I would be laying, landing where my chest would be and her eyes fluttered open. I get to my feet, setting my mug on the bench as she started to sit up, "Wh-what what's wrong," she mumbled as I slid onto the bed, cupping her cheek with my hand.
"Nothin' beautiful," I whisper, kissing her forehead, my heart jumping at the smile that sleepily crosses her lips, "just go back to sleep." She leans back down on her pillow, turning on her side to face my pillow, her fingers tracing a slow pattern on the empty space that I would be occupying.
"Why are you up," she mumbled, a yawn stretching her beautiful lips wide, making my mind think of all the sexy things she can do with it. Brushing the hair behind her ear, I hear her release a little moan as my fingers trail down her neck and across her collar bone. She is so beautiful, I wish it could be just like this forever and I know that I'll remember this moment when I'm lying on my hard bunk in the hot desert they were sending us to.
"I was just thinkin but don't worry," I issue, laying down next to her, running my fingers over her hair, "just go back to sleep, I'll be right here when you wake up." I pulled her face to mine with my fingers under her chin, her lips soft and warm against mine, her fingers coming up to lazily scratch at my beard.
"Mmm," she mumbled, a smile on her face, "you better be." Her hand slid from my cheek, sleep reclaiming her as her breathing evened out, a smile still on those beautiful lips. This woman, I thought, this woman has me under some sort of spell. Smiling to myself, I slowly and tenderly got out of bed, returning to my post on the bench of my bay window, sipping my still steaming hot coffee.
Over the next week I was going to make so many memories with this woman, that just thinking about it made me chuckle. I had waited too long to make her mine and I had to make up for all that time lost.
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Rhea
It was dark and hot, the sand sticking to my bare feet as I tried to trudge along, not sure where I was going, just trying to find something or someone. There were little shacks all over the place, pieces of cloth used as doors, dirty laundry hanging between the different roofs and windows. Looking down at myself I note that I'm in my purple pajama pants and white tank with no bra, and I stop walking, confused and alarmed I yell, "What the hell?" My voice brings a barking dog my way, his mangy coat matted with sand as he barks and dances around my legs, his tail whipping against my legs as I try to shoo him away.
Standing in the middle of this sandy street, between two of the small shacks, I see some movement off to the left in front of me and I squint my eyes, slinking over to lean up against the hardened mud walls of the tiny shack. Straining my eyes in the dim light, I see soldiers moving in the darkness, their shoulders adorned with the American flag, guns at the ready as they move silently around a bigger building up ahead. I see one tap the man in front of him on the shoulder, the entire group entering the building with shouts and yells in a foreign language, screams of women and children filling the once peaceful night air as they run from the building.
The fleeing women draw me in, my feet seemingly having a mind of their own as they carry me towards the building, the sounds of gunfire followed by flashes of light making me move faster. Getting to the doorway where they entered only seconds before me I hear, "Chief's down, Chief's down," the familiar voice bringing tears to my eyes along with the thick smoke.
Bumping into a wall, I furiously wave my arms around my face trying to clear the smoke away so I can see, a flashlight beam bringing me into a large room, bodies littering the floor along with detained men yelling in a strange language. In the middle of the room was Reno and he was knelt over a fallen brother, their hands grasped as Reno's other was holding down pressure on his neck. They couldn't see me, Timmons basically running right through me to Reno's side, whipping his helmet off and kneeling next to the bleeding soldier. I didn't want to get any closer because I already knew who was lying on the floor, but my legs carried me there.
Chad had blood gurgling from his throat and mouth, Reno's fingers trying to stop the flow. Reno was yelling at him to hold on as I knelt next to him in the sand, my hands hovering over him, afraid to touch him as the tears cascaded over my cheeks. Timmons was yelling into his walkie that they needed a medic-helio, telling whoever was on the other end that Chief Petty Officer Chad Payne was down, then turning to scream at Chad that he couldn't die, that "you have to go back home to Rhea, she's waitin' for ya," Chad's reply being a sickening gurgle, more blood flowing from his mouth.
"No, no, no, no, no," I cried repeatedly, my hands fisting in the sand beside me.
Chad pulled Reno to him, his lips only an eyelash from Reno's ear, his free hand reaching into his vest pocket, pulling out a folded picture. "Take-take-take c-cca-care of-f-f Rh-rh-rhea-aa," he choked out, slamming the picture into Reno's hand a sickening choking sound filling the room as all other sounds go quiet.
Gripping Chad's Kevlar vest, I shake him vigorously, my tears falling onto his bloodied face, his eyes blankly staring at me. "No," I scream, my face going down to his chest, smelling the gun powder and blood mingling around him, "no baby," I run my arms and hands all over him, feeling the rough texture of his desert camo gear. My throat feels like it's going to fall out
from all of the screaming, my voice giving out, silent tears filling his chest as I pounded my clenched fists into it.
"No," I scream, the sound jolting me out of bed, my eyes snapping open to the sun coming in through the bay window, my face swinging around noting that I'm alone. I was drenched in sweat, my face streaked with tears as I hurriedly push the sheets and comforter back, my bare feet touching the cold floor as I stumble towards the door, falling to one knee but getting back up, practically launching myself down the stairs. My feet pound on the steps and I jump the last two, my feet slapping on the hardwood floor as I use the railing to propel myself towards the kitchen. "Chhadd," I yell, the tears still flowing down my cheeks, his rushing figure plowing me over as we collide just outside the kitchen, his hands clenching down above my elbows, keeping me from falling.
"What's wrong," he asks, concern flowing with every word, his eyes widening as I meet them, "why are you crying?" He's here. He's safe. The blood and the smell from my dream flow in my mind, the tears falling freely again as I pull his chest to me, my hands gripped to his white 'wife-beater' tank. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I openly sob, the sound being pathetic and childish, but I needed to get it out. I eventually calmed to the point where I could stutter to tell him about my dream, my voice hitching and breaking at every turn, his arms tightening around me as I finish. "Shhh," he murmurs his cheek on the top of my head, "nothing like that will happen."
"How do you know," I snap, pulling out of his hold to turn my reddened and puffy face to look him in the eyes. "You don't know," I cry, my palms trying to push away from him but he held me tight, pulling me against him, tighter than before, almost crushing the breath from me.
"I know," he whispers and I can feel the hurt in his voice, "I can't promise anything other than I will do my duty and do my best to protect my brothers and my country." He squeezed me tighter and I closed my eyes, burying my face in his chest between his muscles. "I'm sorry for dragging you through this, but I'm a SEAL, it's what I do. I love you and I love my job."
"I love you," I mumble into his chest, moving my chin to rest on his sternum, my eyes locked on his. "I'm just afraid," a few more tears slide down my cheek, joining their companions sliding down my neck. His blue eyes roamed my face, his hands pressed hard against my back, his fingers spread wide.
"I know you're afraid," he said, kissing my lips lightly, then my cheek, his beard scratching into my neck as he nuzzled tight to me, "but I need you to be strong. It's all that I'm gonna ask you for, is to be strong. For you, for my momma and for me. Just be strong," the hitch in his voice breaks my heart and I wrap my arms around his neck, Chad lifting me off my feet and just holding me, both of us not saying a word there in the kitchen doorway.
We released each other, my heart still hurting, but knowing that he needed me to be strong. I resolved to bear the brunt and trudge through. After splashing my face with ice cold water, we sat at his cute little breakfast nook, eating a very good breakfast he had prepared. After putting the dishes in the sink, Chad chased me up the stairs, his fingers pinching at my side and butt the whole way, my laughs and screams breaking the heavy silence that had hung over us. Surrendering to his smile and touch, we make love on the hallway carpet, just outside the bedroom door, my fingers digging into his back and shoulders as he bit at my ear.
"What do you wanna do today," I ask, flopping down on the bed in my panties and bra, watching him pull on a pair of jeans. His tight little butt was magnificent, his abs looking like a twelve pack because they were so defined. Bringing myself back to life, I say, "You wanna go get some more of the stuff from my trailer and then have lunch at the diner?"
Rolling to my back, grabbing the jeans I had laid out for myself, I watch him behind me as I pull them on, his eyes locked on me from the mirror, trying to look like he was checking out his beard. I took my time, wiggling as much as possible before springing to my feet to hop and jump around buttoning and zipping them up, turning my face back to him, seeing him try to act like he wasn't watching me intently. "Yeah, that sounds good," he says, his eyes down to his dresser but I can see the sly little smile on his lips and I can just imagine the naughty little thoughts that are running through his head.
It was a sunny January day as we pulled into my driveway, the air was crisp but not frigid. A good day to do some work like packing. We had stopped at the small hardware store in town, picking up packing tape and boxes along with Chad picking out three cans of burnt orange colored paint, saying that he wanted to re-paint the kitchen. We packed all of the little nick-knacks that had accumulated over the years, separating it into a 'keep' pile and a 'donate' pile on the front yard. Leaving the major appliances and furniture [except for the new bedroom set that I had just purchased which we agreed to put in the spare room at the bottom of the stairs] Chad and I packed his Silverado full of my belongings, locking my childhood home up and heading into town for lunch.
The tiny diner, Ray's Place, was its normal Monday lunch time busy, construction workers and mill workers filling the booths and counter seats. Old Man Dow, Harlan's grandfather, was the first of many to say hello to Chad and I, shaking Chad's hand and telling him that they were proud of his service to our country and we made our path to our booth slow and steady. He swatted my butt as I plopped down on the red vinyl covered bench seat, sitting across from him, a sly smile on his face as some of the older men whistled at his action as a blush filled my face.
"Now Chad Payne, you shouldn't do that in public, it embarrasses us girls," our waitress, sweet Janice Ludwell issued. Her gray filled brown hair spun and pinned into a tight bun at the back of her head, her white apron stained with coffee and other messes from the morning. She was Duke Orr's aunt and mother to his prick of a cousin, Jesse. Jesse was a year older than me and the prepiest country boy I'd ever met. Wearing sweater vest and khakis more than jeans and t-shirts. He worked at the local credit union just down the street from the diner and he walked around town with an arrogance that stunk like a skunk. He was also famous for scooping up Duke's 'left-over' girls, the ones Duke was tired of or bored with.
"Well I'm mighty sorry to offend you, Mrs. Ludwell," Chad issued with his heart shattering smile on display as Janice poured coffee into our mugs. I stuck my tongue out at him quickly before she turned to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"I'm sure sorry bout your momma, Ray," she issued, her brown eyes full of sadness and at that moment I wasn't quite sure if it was because my mom was dead or that Janice wouldn't have a pie baking partner at this year's county fair. Nodding my head, I put the coffee to my lips, wincing at the boiling hot liquid. Seeing that I wasn't ready to give her an order, she smiled and skirted away, "I'll give you lovebirds a minute," winking as she moved to the next booth, filing their cups.
Locals stopped by the table on their way out and their way in, all inquiring different things to Chad. The men wanted to know about where he was headed, which he couldn't tell them so he skirted the issue by asking them how they were, how they thought the crops were going to be this year. He sent them away with smiles and laughs, his leg brushing mine under the table the entire time. The women wanted to know whether or not he had any single friends that were looking for girlfriends or they asked me when the wedding date was, which I blushed at more than once saying that we weren't planning anything just yet, Chad giving me a crooked smile each time the question came up. Word travels fast in a small town and it seems as if everyone just assumes we're engaged already.
He ordered his usual chicken fried steak with extra mashed potatoes, gravy and maple carrots while I got a Belgium waffle with local raspberries on top. The cook, Bubba Jake, had a massive raspberry patch behind his trailer, picking and freezing them every summer to serve throughout the winter at the diner. I enjoyed them as often as I could because they reminded me of my childhood. When Randy, Chad and I use to wander through those very same raspberry bushes playing tag and snagging as many berries as our hands and shirts could hold, running back to Chad'
s mom's trailer with red juice stains on our faces. We would be scolded but laugh it off through the entire thing because our mothers would enjoy the berries they confiscated from us after we were in bed.
The food was laid in front of us, steaming, Chad's face lighting up making a giggle pass my lips as I spied Duke and his little posse coming in the front door, his eyes meeting mine. "Incoming," I say, nodding over Chad's shoulder as I put my eyes to my plate, pushing the berries around on the warm buttery waffle.
Chad's hand went to my knee under the table, his fingers digging into my jeans and I knew that he would kill Duke if he had the chance. I needed to keep the situation cool, at least in here, because I know Chad wouldn't hold back. The room seemed to hush as Duke led Jesse, Garth and Jarrod towards our table, a sly smile on his face.
"Hey Ray," he winked at me, "yur lookin' hot today." I gave him a quick, weak smile without looking up at him, my eyes focused on pushing the whipped cream around with my fork. His hands crept onto the table, one by my elbow and the other by my coffee, his face getting closer by the second. Chad's fingers squeezed my knee tighter, making me wince. "Look a'me when I'ma talkin' to you girl," he said, his breath stinking of chew and Coors.
"Back off Duke," Chad ground out, his eyes darting to Duke's mocking face, his jaw set, "leave us alone." Duke's laughter rang out through the dining room, the faces of the locals turning even more in our direction, and I can see Bubba come out from the kitchen, his overly round build blocking the doorway.
"Whatcha gonna do bout it Navy boy," he grinned at Chad, his brown stained teeth on full display, "you can't lay a hand on me, less you go to jail. And while yur in jail, yur precious lil' Ray will be all by her lonesome. She gonna need someone to keep her company," he tried to reach his fingers up to my cheek but I slapped them away, the sound echoing throughout the room, bouncing off the laminated surfaces.
Two Weeks With a SEAL (The Wakefield Romance Series) Page 9
