by Dalia Wright
The red button on the phone on his nightstand was blinking with unheard voicemails. He pressed play. One was from Jenna. He could hear the baby, and Emma crying in the background. Guilt overwhelmed him again and he deleted the message without bothering to listen to the rest of it. The next one was from his captain, with explicit instructions to show up for his mandatory therapy session that afternoon at the local veterans office.
“And Duke,” the captain had concluded the message by barking, “if you don’t show up I can’t put you back on the field and you’re looking at desk work for the rest of your military career.”
Duke called the captain back immediately, hoping to negotiate a different arrangement, but the captain was adamant in his decision: he either had to go to therapy or hand in his resignation. Duke was desperate to go back to Afghanistan, and he knew the captain meant business. So if sitting through a few lousy hours of therapy was going to get him there, then that’s what he would do.
On his way there, his mind wandered to the girl from the bar the night before, and again he regretted not getting her number. Some one-on-one time with a hottie would probably do more for his mental health than counselling sessions. Life as a soldier made it difficult to have regular hook-ups with women. Fraternizing with female soldiers was strictly forbidden, and it’s something Duke avoided at all costs; from what he had observed they never ended well. When he was on base, females were so scarce; the men would take special trips to the nearest town for a night of drinking and hook-ups. He wondered if the girl from the bar was a local. He couldn’t remember seeing her around before, but then again, he had hardly been aware of his surroundings since the incident. And just like that he started thinking about Jake again. He replayed the last meal they had shared, the last conversation they had, the dirty jokes and their plans for the summer when they would both be on leave. And then the hideous incident snatched it all away.
When he finally pulled into the parking lot of the VA center, Duke had no idea how he got there, but his breathing was quick and shallow and his mind felt fuzzy, filled with images of the fateful moment when Jake’s life came to an end. He quickly opened the windows and forced himself to take deep breaths and clear the images crowding his head. It took him a good ten minutes to regain control, but by the time he sauntered into the VA clinic, he was back to his cool, aloof self, his eyes mockingly scanning the PTSD and mental health posters lining the walls of the waiting room.
Therapy was for weaklings, he thought to himself and mental health was a load of bull. The urge to turn around and leave was overwhelming, but the receptionist, who was named Tamra according to her badge, had already zeroed in on him. She greeted him with a wide, friendly smile.
“Duke Carson?”
“Yes,” he replied curtly.
Tamra looked at her computer and pressed a few keys.
“Great, Dr. Thomas is waiting for you. If you’ll just go to the first door on your right.” She gestured towards a dark, brown door neatly stamped with the number three.
He nodded and walked towards the door, well aware of Tamra’s eyes following his movements. There would clearly be no escaping the therapy session. His face set in a grim line of resignation and displeasure; he opened the door and found himself staring at the very last person he had ever expected to see again.
CHAPTER FOUR:
“You!”
The solitary word came out in a high, squeaky voice, and Kara winced. She cleared her throat and tried again.
“What are you doing here?”
But instead of responding, Duke started laughing.
“Don’t tell me…you’re Dr. Carson?”
“Yes.” Kara replied stiffly. “And I presume you’re Duke Ballard? My patient?”
The word patient immediately wiped off the laughter from his face.
“I’m not a patient,” he said stiffly, “I’m here because I’m being forced into some mandatory bullshit for mental well-being. But there’s nothing wrong with me at all…mentally,” he paused to look her up down, his eyes deliberately roamed her body suggestively before continuing. “Or physically. If you’ll recall.”
Kara’s face flushed with embarrassment as she had a vivid image of stripping off her lacy panties and allowing Duke to finger her. Suddenly she felt hot all over and she was reminded of her incomplete orgasm, cut off short by a phone call from her best friend who had just gone through a divorce. She turned away to get herself under control and to place some distance between the two of them. But in her haste to get to her desk, she dropped the folders she was carrying. Duke, who was clearly enjoying her discomfort, bent down to pick them just as she did the same. Their hands touched, and Kara couldn’t help but think of how wonderful those hands felt on her breasts. She hurriedly gathered her files and stepped away from Duke.
“If you’ll just have a seat, we can get started.” Her voice came out harsher than she would have liked, but she didn’t care. She was mortified that her very patient happened to be someone she had almost hooked up with! In a town filled with hundreds of soldiers and officers, what were the chances? What must he think of her? And worst of all, the only thing she wanted to do was jump him and finish what they had started the night before. She bit back a groan and took in a deep breath. You’re a professional, Kara, she told herself sternly. You’re a psychiatrist, not a horny teenager. You have to pull yourself together! She fiddled around with her desk drawer for another moment before turning to face Duke again, the cool professional once more.
“So,” Kara asked, as she settled down on the armchair across from Duke. “What do you want to talk about today?”
“How about we talk about you and me?” He replied with a cheeky grin.
Choosing to ignore his comment, Kara dove directly into the heart of the matter. She had done a quick scan of Duke’s file the night before, so she was aware of the basic facts but not much else. As a general policy she didn’t like reading in-depth reports on a patient right away. She preferred getting her own sense of who they were and how they were doing without any prejudice.
“You were posted in Afghanistan, correct? And put on leave after your friend Jonathan died? Do you want to talk about that? Were you two close?”
“I’d rather talk about last night, Doc.” He stressed the word doc to sound both dirty and seductive at once. Kara tried not to squirm in her seat, but given the hot, fiery looks he was throwing her way it was hard not to think about the night before.
“I’m trying to help you, Duke. I’m here to help you get back on your feet, so you can go back to service.”
At once he clenched his fists and his jaw tightened with anger.
“I don’t need to be fixed.” He growled. “I’m perfectly fit for service.”
Kara knew he was angry but she decided to be blunt.
“The Captain doesn’t think so.”
“The Captain is an asshole.”
“Why do you say that?”
Duke crossed his arms across his chest and bored his eyes into her face.
“The only thing I want to talk about is us; nothing else.”
“I see.” Kara lapsed into silence and waited. Experience had taught her pushing a patient was usually counterproductive. But Duke was proving to be a stubborn man - as the minutes ticked by he continued to stare at her without saying a single word. Occasionally, his eyes strayed to the clock, and as soon as it hit the one-hour mark he got to his feet and sauntered towards her until he was close enough for their noses to touch. Kara wanted to back off, but she seemed glued to the spot. She couldn’t look away from those dark, sultry eyes.
“Hour’s up Doc, now what you say we pick up where we left off?”
Kara tried to speak but couldn’t form the words. The attraction between them was undeniable, and all she wanted was to strip down to her underwear and have him kiss her whole body. With some difficulty, she broke their eye contact and moved towards the door, her body brushing against his because he was standing so close.
>
“I’ll see you next week same time, same place.”
“For sex?”
“For therapy! Believe it or not, I can really help you. Therapy isn’t the load of crock you seem to think it is.”
“Oh you can help me all right…” he said with another suggestive look. “See you next week Doc, and oh, if you need me sooner than that,” he pointed towards his file - “you know where to find me. And don’t forget to let the Captain know I showed up.”
Kara didn’t respond but as he disappeared through her office doors, she fell back against her armchair and tried to cool her flaming hot body. God, he was hot!
CHAPTER FIVE:
Over the week that followed, Duke kept himself busy by going to the gun range and pouring out his aggressions by shooting at targets and bottles. It was either that or spending hours at the bar getting drunk, which would be an all too easy trap to fall into. The base also had an enormous outdoor gym filled with obstacle courses and running trails where he spent a good chunk of his days. By keeping himself busy physically, he was able to keep his head cleared of everything else, and by the time he fell into bed at night, he was so exhausted and spent, he didn’t have the energy to dwell on anything more. Instead, he fell asleep promptly and for the moment the nightmares were kept at bay.
Duke didn’t intend on missing his next session with the hot Doc, not out of any overwhelming need to discuss his life. His intentions were purely selfish. He wanted to seduce her and finish what they had started. Preferably on the thick, shag carpeting on her office floor. He knew instinctively she was fighting off an intense attraction towards him and he wanted to explore that. But then he ran into Jenna with both kids in tow, and all the events from Afghanistan he’d been trying so hard to block came rushing back, leaving him in a crippling mess.
Thankfully, he saw her before she saw him, at the gas station as he stepped out of his car to gas it up. A flash of golden blond hair caught his eyes, crouched down low by the tires of a black SUV, struggling to fill a tire with air, a baby was strapped to her back wailing her head off. A little boy hovered nearby, squirming desperately against the leash which held him in securely in place.
Duke felt shell-shocked at the sight of the little boy; Luka was the spitting image of his father. A wave of panic overwhelmed him. He knew the logical thing to do would be to go say hello; he couldn’t possibly ignore her forever. He owed her that much, at least, after ducking her calls since the funeral, but he was incapable of moving. His heart constricted painfully as feelings of panic and anxiety mounted. Then the boy suddenly stopped squirming when he caught sight of Duke’s familiar face. He started to jump up and down and gleefully tug at his leash.
“Dukey!” he squealed in delight.
At the sound of the familiar name, Duke clutched desperately at the handle of his car door, wanting to be anywhere else but here. The handle gave way and he tumbled into the front seat, fumbling with the keys while he struggled to get his breathing under control. Thankfully there were no cars in front of him, so he peeled away as fast as he could from the gas station. In the rear view mirror he caught a glimpse of Jenna’s blond head bobbing up to see who Luka was talking about and the hurt look on her face as she recognized the car. That one glimpse was enough to show him how much she had changed since the funeral. Her once lovely face was thin and haggard. She looked like a woman in grief, and Duke knew he had failed her in every single way. He was supposed to be one she could lean on for support and help, and yet he had fled. Turning his back on her, the kids and his responsibilities towards them - he had failed them just like he had failed Jake.
That night Jenna’s confused, pain-stricken face haunted his sleep. Luka’s joyful cry rang in his ears and Duke wished for the hundredth, thousandth time that he had died that night instead.
Why did it have to be Jake? The loving father, the adoring husband, the loyal friend, the dutiful son…Jake was all those things, and his death had left an emptiness in all those people’s lives. Why couldn’t it have been him instead? The worthless guy with nothing to lose and nobody depending on him. But of course he knew why…. He was the reason why Jake had died. The words murderer and guilty echoed and screamed through his brain, tormenting him until he finally drowned them out with alcohol.
CHAPTER SIX:
Since the first session with Duke, Kara found herself thinking about him a lot more than she would have liked, and found herself secretly counting down the days till their next session. The morning off of their appointment, she dressed carefully in a flattering yet professional suit and sprayed her body generously with her favourite perfume. It was the same perfume she had worn the night at the bar. The day passed by in a haze of anticipation for her and her eyes strayed repeatedly to the clock, willing it to be 3:00pm,the time slot reserved for Duke’s appointment. Five minutes before his appointment, she touched up her lipstick, fluffed her hair and unbuttoned one more button on her blouse, revealing the merest hint of creamy, tanned flesh. She had very large and generous breasts, but she wore them well with her tall, athletic build. She wasn’t at tiny girl, but she was lean and curvy with toned arms, a narrow waist, and powerful legs thanks to her daily run. While men had always found her sexy, they also seemed intimidated by her height and stature and at five-foot-nine, she often towered over a lot of the men she met. Duke had been one of the few exceptions. At six-feet-three, he was the one who towered over her.
What puzzled Kara is why she was so drawn to him. It wasn’t the uniform, that was for sure. She had spent her whole life surrounded by military men and she had made it a point to never date one. She saw them as comrades, as buddies. But there was something about Duke she couldn’t explain and she was anxious to see him again to both help him through his problems and get to the bottom of her own restless feelings. But by 3:10pm he still hadn’t showed up for their session. She buzzed Tamra to see if Duke had called to say he was running late, but Tamra told her she hadn’t heard from him at all. At 3:30pm, Kara finally called Duke to find out why he wasn’t at the session but the call went straight to voicemail. She fought back her feelings of disappointment knowing there wasn’t much else she could do. She was so sure he was going to come, she had been certain he had felt a spark too, but obviously not. Putting aside her personal feelings, Kara decided to take a closer look in Duke’s file since it was obvious he had no interest in opening up to her or getting help.
His file was surprisingly clear-cut and simple. He was a decorated officer who had won numerous medals for his bravery and work and was on a clear trajectory for a high-ranking appointment. The military seemed to be his entire life. His parents had died in a car accident when he was seventeen. Since he didn’t have any other family, he had moved in with his best friend’s family and lived with them for a year. He had joined the military straight out of high school and had served faithfully for over ten years in mission after mission. Never been married, didn’t have any kids, and he didn’t appear to be in any type of serious or committed relationship, since Jake Rawlings was listed as his beneficiary as well as his emergency contact. Kara paused when she came to the name and thumbed ahead towards the end of the file and her eyes widened with surprise and sympathy and a small piece of the puzzle that was Duke fell into place.
Jake Rawlings was one of the officers who had died during a sniper ambush on their last tour in Afghanistan. Half a dozen soldiers and two officers had died in the ambush. Only Duke had come out of it alive. It was suddenly clear to Kara why Duke was struggling so much or seemed so closed-off. Jake had clearly been his best friend, more a brother than a friend, and while Duke had come out unscathed, Jake had lost his life in a tragic manner. Kara wondered if Duke was struggling with survivor’s guilt. It’s something she would address when they had their next session, because she was determined to get him back into the office and help him through whatever he was feeling at the moment. She knew from experience if he didn’t get the help he needed, his life would spiral out of control and he woul
d lose everything he held dear in his life. In Duke’s case, that would be his brilliant military career.
As she continued to read, she was surprised to see the sniper ambush was being investigated - more specifically it appeared that the superiors weren’t entirely convinced by the Duke’s version of what had happened. Duke had claimed their troop, consisting of the six soldiers and three officers - including him - were on their way back towards the base in the middle of the night when they were surrounded on all sides by Taliban soldiers and taken out one by one. Duke had been lucky because out of the two bullets fired at him, one had gone out through his shoulder and the other had only grazed his thigh. In his statement he had said,
“Everything happened very quickly and I don’t know where they came from or where they fled. I remember being shot at and falling on my face, I remember a lot of shouting and guns being fired and then I blacked out. When I came to, I was in the hospital being treated.”
When questioned about how Jake died, he had replied that he didn’t know. Normally an incident like this wouldn’t raise any suspicions, but one of the victims had whispered Duke’s name over and over again to the doctor as he lay dying in the field. And the doctor had reported the dying soldier’s sentence.
“Duke, it was Duke, he tried…. Duke tried to… So many bullets…”
So Duke was packed up and sent home on indeterminate leave while they sorted out the truth behind the sniper mess and Duke got some help. Duke’s superior had made it very clear in his report that Duke was suffering mentally, possibly from PTSD, and he wouldn’t be approved for any more tours until he was deemed fit and healthy, both physically and mentally by a psychiatrist. Meaning her, Kara.
