Officer and the Secret (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.)

by Murray, Jeanette

  Long legs… Lord, were they long, encased in jeans that were more than a little worn at the seams. At least it was consistent, she thought with a small smile. She followed the line of denim, refusing to ignore his groin area. If she was going to start dating and being with men, she had to get used to it.

  Okay. Maybe she should start with a less daunting subject. Her eyes drifted down until they landed on his boots. One foot was on the floor, but the other was on the coffee table. Right next to the pizza boxes.

  For some unknown reason, it bothered her. A great deal. She tapped the boot with her own bare foot, but nothing happened. What was she expecting? The man didn’t wake up when bombs went off on the TV speakers. A little tap wasn’t going to move him. She debated the wisdom of her plan, then ditched wisdom and went for it anyway.

  One hand grasped the toe of his boot, the other hooked under the cuff of his jeans. She waited, holding her breath, but he didn’t move an inch. Not a flutter of lashes, not a twitch of the finger. Lifting slowly, she adjusted until she could place the boot with care down on the floor.

  The snarl was her first clue she should take off running. But before her mind could even process the odd noise, she flew through the air. Landing on her back on the sofa, she tried to breathe, but couldn’t. Her lungs wouldn’t expand, like the time she fell from a tree limb and had the wind knocked out of her. She opened her eyes and saw what might be in her top five most terrifying sights of her life.

  Dwayne pinned her down, one arm draped over her chest—explaining why her lungs couldn’t expand—and his knee was holding her legs immobile. His face was red, eyes bloodshot, nostrils flaring. He was a raging bull, and his anger was one hundred percent focused on her.

  She tried to gasp, to say something, to scream for help, but only a squeak came out. Her eyes watered, lungs burned like they were on fire. She clawed at his arm, struggled to be let up. Desperate for air.

  And then the heavy weight was gone. Her eyes closed automatically in relief. She gasped in a cool, relieving breath of fresh air and nearly choked on it. Slowing down, she forced herself to breathe in through her nose, out through her mouth. To focus on slowing down the rapid pace of her beating heart. Shock and near-hysteria, she knew, could steal your oxygen almost as fast as anything. Her eyes stayed shut, but she could hear Dwayne moving on the other side of the room, but she wouldn’t look. Couldn’t. All that mattered was soothing her abused lungs, calming her racing heart. Not throwing up.

  “What the… Veronica? Are you okay?” Madison was by her in an instant, kneeling down in front of the couch. She rubbed her arm soothingly. “What happened?”

  Veronica pried her eyes open, not at all sure how to answer that. Because she had no clue herself. She shook her head, though she wasn’t sure if it was a request for more time, or something else.

  “Dwayne?”

  Veronica finally made herself search out the man. He stood in the corner of the room, as far away from the couch as he could get without climbing out the window. He stared at his hands, which were shaking, balling them into fists, then unclenching them again. Stared at them as if they weren’t his own.

  “Dwayne, what happened?” Madison’s voice sounded so upset.

  “It’s okay.” Too scratchy. Veronica cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s fine. I think I startled him.”

  What an understatement. He’d scared the daylights out of her, but all of a sudden, with the large man pressed against the wall, looking so disgusted and shattered, she couldn’t feel anger or resentment. Something else was wrong, and it had nothing to do with her waking him up.

  “Veronica, I…” He shook his head and screwed his eyes tight. When he opened them again, they were filled with regret. “I’m sorry.”

  Madison reached out an arm. “Dwayne, sit down and we can—”

  “No.”

  And he left. Without giving either of the women a chance to say a word, he bolted for the door, brushing past Madison so fast she swayed with the speed. Before they knew it, an engine fired up outside and they sat silently, listening to it fade in the distance.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Madison rubbed a hand over her back. The caring nurse was in her element.

  “Yes. I’m fine. But I don’t think he is.”

  Madison sat on the couch next to her. “I don’t think so either.” She sighed and ran her fingers through her wet hair. “I need to make a few calls. You’re sure you’ll be fine?”

  She nodded. Madison would call her brother, maybe Jeremy as well. And they would go to Dwayne, look out for him. Because that’s the kind of people they were.

  People who cared enough about each other to inconvenience themselves. To be there no matter what.

  This was why she’d started her life over again. To be a part of that. As painful as the moment of fear had been, the aftermath was a good reminder.

  ***

  Dwayne walked through the back door to Tim and Skye’s townhouse patio. Both were already out there, along with Jeremy. He’d come to the impromptu cookout early specifically to catch both his buddies before everyone was there and enjoying themselves.

  Jeremy was slouched in a patio chair, glass of water in his hand. Tim stood by the grill, waving a spatula to get rid of some smoke. And Skye was stretched out on a wooden bench, flat on her back. She wore ripped jean shorts that showed off a mile of leg, some tank top thing that flowed down to the ground, and her feet were bare. Huge shades covered her eyes, and one arm was draped over her forehead like she was asleep. She couldn’t have been any sexier if she’d been posed that way by some photographer looking for the perfect pinup shot.

  His friend was a lucky bastard.

  “Welcome.” Jeremy toasted him with his water and took a drink.

  “Hey, sweetie.” Skye stood and came to give him a kiss on the cheek. When she nudged her shades to the top of her head, no pity shone in her eyes. If Tim told her about his freak-out the night before, she wasn’t showing it. He appreciated that.

  “Hey, beautiful. You ready to get rid of that loser and come be mine yet?” he drawled, making her laugh and swat his arm. “Hey, it’s just my bad luck he spotted you first in Vegas, or I’d have walked away with a new wife instead of that unappreciative jerk.”

  “Trust me, he’s plenty appreciative. Now,” she added, her voice warming with obvious undertones that Dwayne pretended to not notice, “Tim, I’m gonna go in the kitchen and start slicing up some veggies.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks.” He didn’t move from his post at the grill.

  She patted Dwayne’s arm again once before shutting the sliding glass door behind her. Okay. She knew. This was her way of giving Tim and Jeremy time to talk to him in private.

  The only reason he’d managed to put off the confrontation from last night until today was because he swore he’d come over early to the barbeque and talk then. They’d both called him, most likely after Madison informed them of his unfortunate episode with Veronica.

  Unfortunate episode. Right. What a nice, polite way of thinking about it. Like he’d spilled his drink on her or something. No, he’d only damn near terrified the life right out of her. He still could see the fear in her eyes, hear the little desperate gasps for breath, feel her chest struggling to rise under his forearm.

  After swearing he wasn’t going to drink, do drugs, or engage in any reckless behavior, his friends both agreed he wasn’t a danger to himself and left him alone. But only with the promise of coming to Tim’s place the next day so they could talk.

  He fell into the nearest patio chair and grabbed Jeremy’s water from the table. Jeremy shrugged and reached into the cooler for a beer.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  Neither man said anything. They all could play the patience game for hours. But they didn’t have hours.

  Dwayne sighed. “She woke me up, I
heard gunshots from the movie, I reacted. It’s really not the end of the world. I’ll apologize to her when I see her next.”

  Tim glazed some marinade over a kabob. “You think it was a natural reaction?”

  “For a guy who’d been stateside for not even forty-eight hours, yeah.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “You’re smarter than that. You know the signs. You’re just ignoring them.”

  Because nobody wanted to admit they were cracked in the head. That’s what it was. No matter how widely known it was, no matter how many 20/20 specials Barbara Walters covered about returning vets, or how hard the military worked to erase the stigma… the fact remained.

  To the public at large, people with PTSD were crazy.

  He couldn’t be one of them. Oh, a part of his mind knew it was a certain level of denial to think he could will away the effects. But he was tough. And a good person. He could do it.

  “D. You need to take care of this.” Tim closed the grill lid and gave him undivided attention. “I’m not kidding. It’s not something to dick around with.”

  He was saved from having to make promises—sincere or otherwise—when the sliding door opened behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see Skye’s head peeking out.

  “Honey, Madison and Veronica are here.”

  Veronica? Now? Damn. He scrubbed a hand over his face. Couldn’t he have at least had a full twenty-four hours before he had to think of what to say to the poor girl?

  “Guess my bill’s come due. Time to go pay the price.” He gave the others a wink so they didn’t worry, stood up, and headed inside to wait.

  Chapter 4

  Veronica wasn’t sure she wanted to believe Madison’s claims that she’d be welcome at the barbeque. After what happened the day before, it seemed kinder to give Dwayne some space, some room to breathe. The entire episode had scared her half to death, but only until she’d seen the effect his unintentional behavior had had on him. If she was scared, he’d been terrified of his own reaction. Maybe seeing her so soon would only make things worse.

  “I don’t mind taking your car and heading back to the apartment,” she said once more as they turned into Tim and Skye’s neighborhood. “Really. I could use the time to study.”

  “No. You’re going in there and that’s final.” Madison parked her car behind Dwayne’s huge pickup truck.

  They grabbed the two bowls of fruit salad Veronica had sliced up before they left and headed to the door. Before their feet hit the front porch, the door swung open. Skye stood there, a wide smile for them. But the grin didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Hey, guys. Come on in.” Her tone was warm but reserved. Not at all like Skye.

  She shouldn’t be there. Once again, she was the outsider in a group. And they were going to close ranks around their own—Dwayne. Not that she could blame them. He deserved their loyalty.

  Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It hurt when she was ten, staying with her grandparents and trying to fit in with the other kids, only to be called a freak who didn’t belong, chased back to her parents’ side by hurtful words.

  It hurt the worst at fifteen, when the words were more cruel and the emotions more raw.

  It would hurt now, too. But she was old enough to soothe the pain and not give up on her dream of normalcy.

  Skye didn’t give her a chance to make an excuse and leave on her own terms. She took Veronica’s arm and tugged gently until they were all in the foyer of the townhouse that she and Tim owned. “I’m glad you guys could make it. Thanks for bringing the salad.”

  They wound their way through the living room and dining room where she placed her bowl on the kitchen table. The sliding glass door opened, and Dwayne walked through, blocking out all the afternoon light with his massive frame. With the sun at his back, and the house dark, she couldn’t see his expression to read his mood.

  Nobody spoke, and she could hear her own heart beating in her ears.

  Finally he said, “Hey.”

  Quite the start. She forced a smile. “Hi.”

  “So, Madison,” Skye said. “Could you help me carry the fruit and this tray of veggies out to the patio?”

  “I don’t know if I—oof! Yeah, I’d love to.” Madison headed into the kitchen, rubbing her side.

  “Excuse us, sweetie.” Skye waited until Dwayne stepped into the room before sliding around him and through the door. Madison followed and shut the door behind her.

  And then there were two.

  She really should apologize for causing him the grief. After all, she’d been the one to startle him awake for no good reason. And she was just about to find her voice when Dwayne cleared his throat.

  “Can I, uh, talk to you? In the living room?”

  She nodded. Apologies could be made on the couch just as easily as standing awkwardly in the kitchen. She followed and waited while Dwayne sat on the middle cushion of the couch. What did he expect her to do? Sit next to him? Or would he think that was weird? The chair would be safer. But she didn’t want him to think she was scared of him… though she was. Just a little. But every day was a new challenge for her to step away from the scared introvert she used to be. So she boldly sat right next to him on the couch. One little shift and their thighs would touch. She just wouldn’t shift, that was all. Screwing up her courage, she took a breath and started.

  “I’m so—”

  “I need to apologize.”

  “—rry… what?” Veronica blinked. Did he just…

  He rubbed a hand over his face, through his short, buzzed hair, as if he wanted to be anywhere else but there. Because of the topic? Or because of her? When he spoke, he stared at the fireplace.

  “What happened yesterday wasn’t your fault. I’m still… wound tight. From the deployment. And you got caught in the wrong place at a really bad time. That had nothing to do with you. And I hate that I scared you. It might make me sound old-fashioned, but my mother taught me better. Doing that to a guy would have sucked. But knowing I behaved like that with a woman…” His voice trailed off, shame ringing clear in his words.

  His sense of honor, his own personal code of ethics, was tormenting him more than she ever could have. Not that she wanted to. Pity, and more so respect, rose up for this poor man. He’d likely seen so much. Without thinking, she reached out and put a hand around his wrist. It was too thick for her to wrap her fingers around. His pulse thundered beneath her fingertips.

  “There’s no need to apologize. I wanted to extend an apology myself, for startling you. I wasn’t thinking and I caused your… reaction.”

  He glanced at her then. Wounded. He looked so wounded, and her heart melted just a little. A true gentle giant. “Thanks.”

  Suddenly, she realized she was still touching his wrist, and she started to pull back. But he laid his hand over hers and held her there. Not with force, but she was immobile just the same.

  The little thrill of feeling his calloused fingers on the back of her hand shocked her. Warmth spread from her hand up her arm, through her body. That was definitely a new phenomenon.

  “You’re a sweet one, aren’t you?” His drawl was thicker now, a little more syrup than melted butter. It mixed with the warmth spreading to her belly and she wanted to crawl into his lap.

  No, she wanted to run away. She’d never felt like this before. Ever. She found men attractive, from a safe distance. But they didn’t make her body react this way. It was horrifying. Terrifying. Confusing.

  It’s nice, she scolded herself. Her parents weren’t going to round the corner and scream at her for impure thoughts and sins of the flesh. She could be attracted to a man. She was twenty-six years old.

  This was, however, a little more man than she ever bargained for.

  She tugged a little and he released her with ease. “Maybe we should head outside. They’re probably wondering where we are.”

/>   He watched her a little longer, and she started to feel uncomfortable. Finally, he nodded and put his hands on his knees.

  “Confused too, huh?” When she didn’t answer, he continued. “It’s like we know each other, because of all the talks on Skype. But we don’t, not really. And yet…”

  And yet… She couldn’t help wondering what he wanted to say. But he didn’t go on. Just shook his head.

  “I need to grab something out of my truck. You go on ahead outside. Grab something off the grill before Tim burns it all to hell.”

  Veronica stood and walked toward the back door through the kitchen. But she couldn’t—despite her internal lecture—resist peeking back around the corner.

  He sat, silent and still as a statue, on the couch staring at his hands. Much like the day before, but without the horror or dismay. It seemed to just be thoughtfulness now.

  What a confusing, interesting man.

  ***

  Feeling lighter, Dwayne settled at the patio table with his plate of food. Next to him, Madison stretched out on a lounger, her plate lying over her stomach.

  “You could eat at the table like a civilized human being.” Jeremy tossed a baby carrot so that it bounced off her knee.

  “It’s a barbeque, not a night at the O Club,” Skye chided, like they were all children.

  Madison, in response to Jeremy’s question, merely gave him a one-finger salute. He laughed in response.

  “Can’t you wait until later for that?”

  Tim mimed covering his ears and sang, “La, la, la!” loudly.

  Madison took the opportunity to set her plate aside and launch herself into Jeremy’s lap, who caught her with ease. And making sure her brother was looking, she planted a smacking kiss on Jeremy’s mouth.

  “Is there no decency in the world anymore?” Tim moaned.

  Dwayne smiled and shook his head, shoulders shaking with laughter. God, he’d missed this. Missed it all. The utter normalcy of things. Well, okay, Madison and Jeremy being an item was brand new for him. And Tim being married was still pretty new. But the bullshitting, the joking, the teasing and mocking. He missed it all.