Breaking Free

by Teresa Reasor

  Silent, somber, the men filed out the back door of the house. “Will your team be available?” Hawk asked Arnold.

  “Yeah.” Arnold’s jocularity had done a one eighty and his features appeared somber. “Good thing it was a simunition round and not live ammo.”

  “Yeah. I got lucky.” Hawk set aside the towel on the counter.

  “We’ll be back in the morning.”

  “We’ll be ready,” Arnold said.

  Hawk nodded. He retrieved his pack from the bedroom and went out the door he’d blown open. His cheek throbbed like a toothache but his anger was worse.

  He had just enough time to regain control of his temper before he made it back to the Humvee. Doc and Bowie each straightened from their leaning position against the vehicle as he came into sight. Derrick, resting in the shade of a scraggly elm, got to his feet. Squatting next to him, Flash straightened and turned to face him.

  “You don’t fucking see me standing here because I’m dead. Dead by the hand of one of my own men.” He looked from one man to the other. “Who the fuck shot me?”

  “It was me, LT,” Flash stepped forward.

  A red haze of rage partially obscured Hawk’s vision. He lunged toward Flash, and it took every ounce of control he could muster not to beat the man into the ground. He thrust his face close to Flash’s and his gaze bore into his. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “I tripped over Strong Man’s foot and my weapon discharged.”

  “That’s a fucking rookie mistake. A god damn rookie mistake.”

  Rage burned the back of his throat and had blood rushing to his ears. His cheek pounded as though someone were drilling into his face with a router.

  “The next time one of you shoots me, it damn well better be with live ammo and you better kill me, because when I get up, I’m going to rip your fucking head off.”

  “Get in the Humvee. We’re hitting the practice range. And tomorrow we’ll be doing the drill again.”

  ****

  Zoe pulled into the first available space at the parking structure her thoughts on Hawk and his return to duty with his team. He seemed happier, energized being back to work. She didn’t know whether to be happy for him or resentful. She missed having him at the house.

  He’d looked dangerous and handsome that morning dressed in desert camouflage pants and a dark t-shirt that hugged his muscular torso. The sunglasses he had donned had hidden his eyes and given him a menacing air. When he’d looked over them at her, she’d nearly melted beneath the heat in his gaze and came closer to doing just that when he’d grabbed her and kissed her good-bye.

  The late afternoon sunlight had dimmed to a dusky glow on the horizon as she entered the hospital. Her mother had returned to Lexington and with Hawk at work, the house had seemed empty all afternoon, but it had given her some time to think. She’d filled out the application to work at the hospital. It had felt like a leap off a tall cliff into open space, but she’d done it. She’d drop it off at the office before going upstairs to see Brett.

  Since it was closing time at the office, she handed the application off to one of the personnel there and wound her way down the corridor to the emergency bay waiting room to the elevators. She pushed the button next to the doors and caught a glimpse of a serviceman dressed in body armor standing at the entrance to the waiting room. From the back, his wide shoulders and pale blond hair reminded her of Derrick Armstrong.

  Thoughts of Marjorie had her stepping away from the bank of elevators and limping to the door. “Derrick?”

  At the sound of his name he turned to face her. Standing behind him, Doc and Bowie looked up.

  “Hey, guys. What are you doing here?”

  The three exchanged looks. “There was a training accident and we brought one of the team in to be checked out,” Bowie said. “We’re sticking around to give him a ride home once he’s released.”

  Zoe’s attention went from one to the other. The way they kept avoiding her gaze had her breath catching in her throat. Her face felt numb. “Is it Hawk?” Her voice sounded as though from far away. ”What happened?” If it wasn’t serious they wouldn’t be here.

  Doc grasped her arm above the elbow. “He’s okay, Zoe. The goggles protected his eyes.”

  His eyes. There was something wrong with his eyes. Her ears filled with a horrible ringing and spots swam before her vision.

  “Whoa,” Bowie grabbed her upper arm as Doc’s grasp tightened. They guided her to a seat. Doc forced her head down. A wave of nausea struck her, and she thought she might throw up.

  “He’s all right, Zoe. It’s just a bruise, and a little eye irritation, but we thought it best to get it checked out just in case,” Doc reassured her as he squatted close.

  Someone slapped a wet cloth on the back of her neck, which helped. As the nausea passed, she eased up to test her ability to stay upright.

  “I’m good to go guys,” Hawk’s voice came from behind Bowie and Derrick. His tone changed to one of impatience as he said. “My cheekbone’s not broken just bruised. Damn paperwork took longer than the exam.”

  Just the sound of his voice had quick tears stinging her eyes. She pushed herself off the seat and someone’s hand beneath her elbow offered her support.

  A look of surprise flitted across Hawk’s face when he saw her. A purple bruise discolored his cheek and the whites of his eyes looked painfully inflamed. “What are you doing here, Zoe?” His tone held a hint of accusation as his gaze swept the men around her.

  “I was just dropping some paperwork off at the office before going up to see Brett,” she explained. His tone, his look--he hadn’t wanted her to know. She swallowed against the painful knot of emotion lodged in her throat. “I saw Derrick standing in the waiting room and came in to see what was going on.”

  He tossed his vest to Bowie and his hand curved over her shoulder and he drew her close. Zoe hid her face against his chest as she struggled against the soul pounding relief that raced through her. He smelled of sweat, him, and a foreign smell, like firecrackers. It took her a moment to process that it was gunpowder.

  “I’m fine, Zo. It was just an accident.” His hand cupped the back of her head.

  Unable to speak, she nodded. Dear God, how precious he was to her. She clung to him, the urge to wail her fear and grief almost more than she could control. It was some moments before she trusted herself to step back from him. Her tears left two dark wet spots on his blue t-shirt mid-chest. She looked around for the other men, but they were gone. Hawk’s body armor lay on the chair next to them.

  “Let’s go home. You can call Brett from your cell in the car.”

  She nodded.

  ****

  Hawk stared at the computer screen. Writing the report for his commander hadn’t purged his feelings of betrayal, but stirred them into a fever pitch. Had Flash’s shot really been an accident? Or had it been a warning to back off? What the hell had been going on in Iraq before they came home?

  Something criminal? Something that would impact a SEAL’s career.

  Drugs? No way. Treason? Not a chance.

  How bad was Flash’s gambling problem, and how much did he owe? Hell, who did he owe?

  Had Derrick been abusing his girlfriend all along? Had Brett known?

  Girlfriend. Zoe’s expression of fear and shock as she’d stood in the emergency room waiting room had made him aware of how deep her feelings for him ran, and how vulnerable she was because of it. He’d never seen anyone so pale without them being down.

  His idea of just keeping things superficial, just keeping them limited to the sex, had imploded the first time they’d made love. He just hadn’t realized how completely he had given of himself, and how vulnerable he was because of it, until he’d seen her there. He’d never meant their relationship to cause her pain. But he’d been helpless to shield her from it.

  For the first time, the realization that he wanted something permanent with her, wasn’t just a thought that ricocheted through his m
ind to then be tucked away to look at later. The panicky tightness he’d experienced in his chest at Doc’s apartment returned with a vengeance.

  He wasn’t just in love with her. He loved her. But if something happened to him, could she deal with it? From her reaction this afternoon, he didn’t think so. But short of giving up his career--what could he do about it?

  He could end it, and save her from all the dread, worry, and grief. Just the thought hit him with a punch as painful as the simunitions round that had grazed his cheek that afternoon.

  Could he really do it? Could he be as selfless as that? He was certain he had never felt like this about any other woman, knew it in his bones. But in order to keep her, he’d have to make a career change. Could he give up being a SEAL?

  Everything in him rebelled against the thought.

  The guys in his company had been his family for so long. The men standing next to him were the one constant, the one thing he could depend on.

  Until now.

  What if his career continued to stall because of this situation? What would he do then?

  It wouldn’t. He’d see to it. Because without the team what would he have? And he’d been alone, except for them, since his mother had died. Five years now.

  The guilt he kept carefully tucked away reared up, nearly choking him. He hadn’t been there for her, anymore than he could be for Zoe if they went wheels up.

  A tap sounded on the bedroom door behind him. He grasped at his composure and said, ”Come in.”

  Zoe stood at the door, her hand on the jamb, and balanced on her good leg as she rested the foot of her damaged one atop the other. Her color had returned but she looked tired. Were they going to fight about what had happened? The phone rang down the hall and she sighed. “I’ll get that, it’s probably, Mom.”

  Hawk drew a deep breath. He had a few moments reprieve, a few slim moments to think things through.

  When Zoe returned, he tried to behave as though he was immersed in what was on the computer screen.

  “Are you too busy to talk?” she asked.

  “No, I’m not too busy.” He pushed the chair away from the computer, a sense of resignation weighting that feeling further.

  Zoe leaned back against the edge of the desk. She reached for his hand. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” His fingers brushed the swollen area just beneath his eye. ”Just a little sore. The drops they gave me have almost cleared my eyes.”

  She slid off the desk edge and perched on his thigh to rest against him. She rubbed her soft cheek against his and brushed her lips along his jaw.

  With just that small caress he wanted her so much it tangled his insides into knots. “About today--”

  She pressed her fingers against his lips and drew back to look him in the face. “Not yet, Adam. I just want to be close to you for a few minutes first. I wish things could be simple for us.“

  Hawk kissed her, smothering the rest of what she had to say. He just didn’t want to hear it. Not yet. Instead of talking about all the reasons they shouldn’t be together, he wanted to feel all the reasons why they should. His mouth clung to hers until he teased her tongue into play.

  In the touch of her hands, the heated taste of her mouth, there was an eagerness in her response that bordered on desperation.

  “Zoe.” He urged her to her feet. He drew her close and ran his fingertips up and down her back in gentle brushing caresses. “I never wanted to cause you pain,” he said softly.

  He could feel the tension in her body as she struggled not to cry. She hid her face against his shoulder. “I know.”

  ”It’s always a possibility. We have to train hard. We sweat now so we don’t bleed later. I’ve sworn to protect my country with my life, if I have to, Zoe.”

  “I know. But it wasn’t the enemy who shot you today.”

  “It wasn’t a real bullet. It was a simunition round packed with a soap compound.”

  “Does it matter that it wasn’t a real bullet? You were shot. Who shot you?”

  “I can’t tell you that. It was a training accident and the only person I’m allowed to discuss it with is my commander.”

  She drew back as though he’d slapped her. “What did you do, sign a nondisclosure contract the moment you donned your uniform this morning?”

  Guilt gave him a hard pinch at her look of betrayal. “Something like that. It’s just the way it is.”

  “Why is it you put the Navy ahead of everything and everyone? It isn’t your family.”

  Veronica had said much the same thing. She’d screamed at him that when he’d joined the Navy he’d married an institution, instead of a living, breathing woman. But it had never let him down, not until now. He closed off the thought.

  If Zoe was this upset over a bit of secrecy, how would she feel when they went wheels up to places unknown? When he couldn’t even contact her because they were under deep cover?

  His throat worked as he swallowed. “I think we need to pull back.” His chest hurt as he drew a deep breath. “I’m not ready to make a choice between you and the Navy.”

  “Is that how you see it, Hawk? That I’m asking you to give up your career for me?”

  “It’s all I’ve had for a long time, Zoe. It’s all I’ve worked for, for years.”

  Her hand slashed through the air in sudden anger. “Is this job going to grieve for you when you come home in a body bag? Is it going to support you if you come back with an arm or leg missing? Is it going to give you children, or a real family? Is it going to hold you and offer you comfort when you feel betrayed by your friends?”

  So she had seen that, too. But he’d seen some things, too. What about her physical condition? What if she got sick and died on him while he was gone? Like his mother had. The guilt had hounded him for years. He couldn’t go through that again.

  “I can’t ask you to stick it out. When we go wheels up and I’m shipped out for six months, a year, longer, you’ll be back here in the states and you’ll get tired of being alone, waiting on someone who might or might not return. You’ll get tired of wondering if I’m hurt or dead. You’ll resent my being gone just like you’re resenting my not telling you everything right now. And if you got sick or were hurt, I couldn’t be here for you and you’d resent that too.”

  She brushed at a fresh wave of tears that streaked down her face. “Not if you love me.”

  For a moment, some unseen force squeezed his heart in a tight fist. “I won’t say that, Zoe.”

  She turned away, sparing him from seeing her reaction. But when she faced him again, anger etched a bitter light in her eyes. “What was the whole point then, Adam? Was it to show the poor little crippled girl that someone could fuck her despite the scars?”

  He welcomed the anger. It helped him seal off the pain. He reached for her and gave her a shake before he could control the urge. “Stop it.”

  “I would have never pegged you as an emotional coward. You’re ready and willing to lay your body, your life, on the line, but not your heart.”

  The accusation stung more than he wanted to acknowledge. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Zoe.”

  She threw out a hand in a beseeching gesture. “Then explain it to me.”

  “I can’t let anything distract me from what I have to do. You don’t need the added grief of another person you care about being in harm’s way. It’s as simple as that. I’m trying to spare you that.”

  She jerked free of his grasp. “You’re a little late, Adam. I already love you.”

  His heart beat as though he’d run a fast sprint across a beach. He bit back the words, “I love you too.” If he said them, he’d make her happy--temporarily. But every time he had to leave, every time his job came between them--she’d end up miserable. As miserable as he’d be if something happened to her while he was gone.

  “I’m sorry, Zoe.”

  She shook her head, her expression blank, stunned, and staggered back towar
d the door.

  Hawk took a protective step forward, his hand extended to steady her. She flinched away from his touch and limped out into the hallway. A few minutes later he heard the front door open and close.

  He had done what he had to do. He’d done what was right for them both. Hadn’t he?

  It hurt like hell.

  CHAPTER 23

  Zoe studied the exterior of the apartment building. The utilitarian architecture was blocky and unattractive, but it served Brett’s needs and suited his life style. She climbed the front steps and inserted a key into the locked front door, twisted it, then pulled it open. Her soft-soled shoes squeaked on the industrial gray tile as she limped to the elevator in the lobby. Stepping inside, she pushed the button for the third floor.

  Her tear ravaged reflection stared back at her from the polished metal door. She bit her lip and looked away. It did no good to cry. What was done, was done. She refused to be one of those weak willed women with no pride, who begged for love.

  She couldn’t return to Hawk’s house. If he didn’t love her, wouldn’t allow himself to love her, she couldn’t stay there anymore. At least she had some place to go.

  She should have seen it coming, had seen it coming that day at the hospital, she just hadn’t wanted to face it.

  The elevator door opened and she stepped out into the hall. The florescent lighting overhead appeared dim as she turned left and walked down to apartment three-fourteen. Her hand shook and she shoved the key in with more force than necessary. The door swung inward and the hall light fell in a large rectangle on the floor. It touched the shiny surface of a row of picture frames on a bookcase. The pulled drapes blocked the outside streetlight’s glow. The living room stretched like a black void before her. She ran her fingers along the wall just inside the door, searching for the light switch.

  Fingers grasped her wrist and jerked. A high-pitched yelp tore from her as she stumbled forward. The door slammed shut cutting off the light. She breathed in the distinct smell of latex as a gloved palm cut off her scream. Fear rocketed through her. She kicked and squealed beneath the pressure as a muscular arm held her back against a tall male body.