After Geo indicated his right biceps, Spike configured the chair and tray accordingly. Geo stripped his T-shirt over his head and sat down, his elbow crooked on a padded armrest. He held his other hand out for Lani, who perched on a stool next to him, their entwined fingers resting on her thigh.
For a long time the only sound in the room was the buzzing of the tattoo machine. Geo stared straight ahead, unmoving, although his thumb drifted in almost unconscious circles on her inner wrist.
I’m here, baby, she whispered to him silently. I’m here.
At last Spike sat back and snapped his gloves off before running a rag over his sweaty forehead. “Outline’s done. Wanna see?” He handed Geo a small mirror, then got up and left the room, leaving them alone.
Geo’s hand was trembling, so she reached over and gently took the mirror from him. “You ready?”
“Yes.” His voice still scratchy from crying, he rasped, “Will you look at it first?”
A huge lump rose into her throat. “Of course,” she managed. Pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder, she stood and moved around to his other side, where she immediately caught her breath. “Oh, my.”
The stark black outline of a frog skeleton wrapped itself around his muscular biceps. Eerie, yet beautiful, each individual bone was rendered so lifelike that she couldn’t help but shiver.
“A bone frog. It’s amazing,” she whispered, then held up the mirror for Geo to see. He stared wordlessly for several seconds before nodding.
“It’s good,” he said to Spike, who was now hovering quietly in the doorway. “Real good.”
Lani laid the mirror down carefully and returned to her seat as Spike donned fresh gloves and resumed his work. She traced her eyes over him, letting them linger on the many tattoos decorating his own arms.
One of them, a shiny red apple with a snake wrapped around it, caught her attention. She peered closer. Was the snake’s tongue comprised of someone’s initials...?
“M.S.,” Spike said. “Mike ‘Snake Eyes’ Slidell, one badass Marine.”
“Ah, I get it.” She sat back. “‘Eat the apple, fuck the Corps.’”
Spike smirked in appreciation at her knowledge of Marine culture. “Yeah. Ol’ Snake Eyes saved my life on a joint op in Fallujah, and the day after that stepped on an IED. Here one minute, gone the next.” He shook his head. “Ain’t war a bitch.”
“Ain’t it, though.”
“Lots of good people died, but Mike’s death is the one that hurts the most.” His voice was matter-of-fact, but Lani could still hear the thread of pain running through it. “On the days that I’m struggling, I look at this.” He lifted his chin at the tattoo. “It reminds me that I’m a living, breathing memorial to Mike, and it’s up to me to honor his memory. It helps me put that drink down, you know?”
They stared at each other for a few brief moments, and then Spike turned back to his work. “You get it, lady, don’t you?”
“Yeah, she gets it, man,” Geo broke in, sounding a little stronger now. “She fuckin’ gets it.”
The tattoo machine buzzed on as the tension in Geo’s shoulders gradually eased, although every now and then a stray tear trickled down his cheek. He made no move to wipe them away, or to hide them, still staring straight ahead, his thumb caressing Lani’s wrist.
In the end, Spike wouldn’t take any payment. “Anything for a team guy,” he said quietly before pulling him into another tight hug. “You know I got you, brother.”
She drove them home, and once inside her apartment, they stood facing each other in the darkened living room. At last Geo reached out to run the backs of his fingers down her cheek, his swollen, red-rimmed eyes meeting hers. “Lani, I...”
When the words seemed to fail him, she moved closer. “Let’s go to bed.”
Letting out a hoarse groan, he swung her up in his arms. He carried her to the bedroom and set her gently on her feet, then stood quietly as she eased his T-shirt up and over his head.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered when she undid his jeans. “I’m all dirty and sweaty...”
“Shh.” She ran her palms over his chest and shoulders. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are to me?”
His lips started to tremble.
“So beautiful,” she breathed, brushing her fingertips oh, so gently over the stark white gauze on his biceps. “Inside and out.”
He made a choked sound. “Will you—will you just—”
Without a word, she drew him down to the bed and pulled him into her arms, his body starting to shake as the storm swept over him once again.
She held him tight through it all, her fingers combing through his hair, her own tears dripping from her chin. When at last he fell asleep, his head heavy on her shoulder, she whispered, “I love you.”
Tonight, it didn’t matter that he was a SEAL and she a mom-to-be. Tonight, all that mattered was that she loved him, and because he loved her, too, he was finally letting her in, finally letting her witness his vulnerability and pain.
It was a gift of trust she’d cherish to the end of her days.
* * *
We’ll be back in town next Friday.
Geo barely had time to register the first text from Alex when the next one popped up.
Got a great report from your therapist! A thumbs-up emoji, and then, Looking forward to having you back with us, G.
Several weeks ago, those words from his master chief would’ve had him dancing in the streets. Now, they sat like a lump in the pit of his stomach.
He crammed his bite suit into its bag, then headed for the locker room shower to scrub off the sweat that crusted him from head to toe. It’d been a long, exhilarating afternoon playing decoy with the San Diego County Sheriff Department’s K9 unit. He’d gotten to hide in buildings, in cars, conceal himself in bushes, even once behind an air-conditioning vent. It was such a rush each time the dog found and dragged him out, although that meant ending the day covered in scratches and bruises.
Yep, he’d gotten a lot of teeth hugs from some badass hair missiles.
As he soaped up, Geo canted his arm to gaze at his tattoo, now mostly healed, the scabbing having finally flaked off, the oozing dried up. It calmed him to look at it, especially during those difficult, emotional sessions with Maura.
“Why did you get that tattoo?” she’d asked.
Geo had stared at her and fought not to fidget on the couch. “Well, it’s tradition. Most SEALs get a bone frog to memorialize fallen brothers.”
“I know. But why did you get it?”
Unable to sit still anymore, Geo surged to his feet and paced around her office. “I wanted one, okay?”
“Why?”
He gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to shout that he just did, so fucking move on already. Instead, he’d let the memories of that night flow through him—Cade’s family, his tree, crying in Lani’s arms...
He’d taken a deep breath. “Because I’m trying to forgive myself, and I don’t ever want to forget. That’s the deal. If I’m going to carry this with me, it’s gonna be out in the open, visible. No more hiding.”
“Yes. Forgiveness is a process, a lifelong process. Sometimes you’ll feel like you’re starting from square one all over again.”
It was true. He’d already experienced that a lot, when anger at Cade would well up out of nowhere, along with his own self-loathing that was like acid burning him from the inside out. Some days it felt like all he was doing was forgiving, and it took every bit of his strength.
Geo had said as much to Maura, finishing with, “I’m processing it so much better, though. I’m not drinking, no fights.”
“Well, that’s certainly progress. I hope you’re giving yourself credit for that, even on those difficult days.”
“I am.” He’d looked down at his hands, then back at her. “I know Lani’s disa
ppointed about the grief group. I just—”
Maura smiled. “Not everyone is wired to share in a group setting, Geo. I know she understands.”
He knew she did. By her own admission, her disappointment had been fleeting.
“It was my fantasy about us sharing together in the group,” she’d said when he haltingly told her he wouldn’t be going back. “A fantasy that I’ve been trying to impose on you. This is your journey, not mine.”
Thoughts of Lani made Geo rush through the rest of his shower. They were meeting at Ari’s game tonight, the last one of a hard-fought season. She would be making cupcakes for the team, and he’d volunteered to stop off and grab some pizzas.
As he jogged to his truck and tossed his duffel in the bed, he couldn’t help but snort. Here he was, looking forward to spending his evening eating cupcakes with a bunch of ten-year-olds. Not that long ago, if anyone had suggested he’d enjoy that, he would’ve laughed and promptly dumped a beer on their head.
What had changed?
The sudden buzzing of his phone made him smile, and he swung up into the truck before opening Lani’s text.
Cupcakes done. Whaddya think?
Instead of the cupcake itself, the attached pic was a selfie. In it, she had chocolate frosting all over the tip of her nose and lips, obviously from sampling her handiwork.
A pleasant tingle went through him. Mmm. I think I have a sudden hankering to lick the spoon. And by spoon, I mean you.
She sent back a string of laughing emojis, saying, Good thing I saved us a bowl of frosting to, uh, eat later.
The tingle turned into a blaze of arousal, and Geo reached between his legs to palm himself soothingly. “Jesus. Down, boy.”
To Lani he said, You’re killing me, beautiful. Can’t wait.
As he drove, his happiness couldn’t help but dim a bit. At some point he’d have to tell her about Alex’s text, which would burst the idyllic little bubble they’d been living in these past two months, the one in which he came home every night and woke up next to her every morning.
He didn’t want it to end.
Geo clenched his fingers on the steering wheel as he reminded himself that they’d turned a corner, too. That night at Scars & Ink, he’d felt it—something had shifted between them, something good.
Sighing, he turned into the parking lot of the pizza restaurant with a resolve to make sure they talked about it tonight, after the soccer game. He wanted a future with her, and he was more than ready to make some big changes to get it.
The stack of pizza boxes made the cab of his truck smell so good, Geo couldn’t resist sneaking a slice on the way to the soccer field. When he arrived, most of the team was already there, milling around, and a cheer went up when they saw him.
“Pizza! Pizza!” they chanted, swarming the boxes when he put them down on a nearby picnic table.
He gave Renae a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then looked around for Ari. She was a short distance away from the rest of the group, seated on the grass, doing some desultory stretches. Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, he wandered in her direction.
“Hey, kiddo,” he said softly as he approached.
She glanced up at him and shrugged. “Hey.”
He dropped to sitting next to her and leaned back on his palms, his legs crossed at the ankle. “How’s it going?”
“Good.”
These pre-game talks had become their own private ritual. Mostly Ari wanted to hear about her father, and it delighted Geo to dredge up all the funny and inspiring Cade stories he hadn’t thought of in years.
How could I forget for one moment how amazing you were, bud? Because you were, and I miss you.
He waited for her to ask, but tonight Ari was quiet for a long time. Geo didn’t push, just sat next to her, letting her take the conversational lead. At last she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “Do you ever think it’s your fault?”
His breath froze in his chest. “Think what’s my fault, honey?”
“That your dad died.”
Geo paused. “My dad?” he asked carefully, wondering if he’d heard right.
“Yeah. Do you ever think it’s your fault he died?”
What?
“Some of Ari’s questions to you might be her way of expressing her own feelings,” Maura had said when he’d asked for her guidance early on. “Just listen, and use honesty and your best judgment when answering them. That’s all you can do.”
Tamping down his nausea at the thought of Ari blaming herself, Geo swallowed hard. “He’d been sick—”
Suddenly, a memory roared to life, the memory of a disappointed eleven-year-old boy and an impulsive, selfish prayer.
Just be honest.
“Well, a couple of months before he died, a friend’s dog had puppies, so I asked my mom if I could have one.”
He remembered how he’d been building up his courage for weeks, bolstered by the thought of having a warm, furry little creature to love, something that’d become a bright spot of hope and anticipation in those last days of his dad’s slow, inexorable decline.
“What did she say?”
At her hushed question, he drew his knees up and mirrored her pose. “She said no. Right away. Wouldn’t listen to my plan to take care of it, nothing. Just a big fat no. Period. The end.”
“Ugh. Were you mad?”
“I was furious. I thought it was so unfair.”
Looking back as an adult, Geo could recognize her decision as one of an exhausted caregiver who only saw a puppy underfoot as yet another burden, but in his childish selfishness and grief...
“I shouted that I hated her, and then I stormed outside and kicked some stuff over, like my bike and the garbage can. After that I ran to the park down the street and sat on the swings for a long time, thinking about my dad being sick, and I—”
He squeezed his eyes shut and blew out a long, slow breath.
God, help me.
“I prayed that he would just die already.”
“Oh, shit.” Ari clapped her hand over her mouth. “And he did?”
“He did, several weeks later.” Turning to face her directly, he waited until she met his eyes. “But because he was sick, Ari, not because I prayed that. Okay? That was me being mad, and for some reason praying that made me feel better, but I was a little kid. I didn’t have the power to make him die.”
Her lips trembled the tiniest bit before she broke their gaze and looked down at her knees.
Steeling himself, Geo asked, “Why, sweetie? Why did you want to know that?”
She shrugged. “Dunno.”
Despite her attempt at nonchalance, he could see her knuckles turn white as she clenched them together.
His instincts screaming at him not to let this go, he nudged her foot gently with his own. “You don’t know? C’mon, it’s me. We’ve had a lot of good talks, haven’t we? I won’t get mad, no matter what you tell me.”
Ari’s shoulders hunched in on themselves, and for a moment Geo thought she was about to bolt when suddenly she blurted, “I took Daddy’s lucky bear.”
His mind immediately flashed to the tiny tie-dyed bear Cade always kept in the front pocket of his ruck. Had he mentioned not having it on that last deployment? For the life of him, Geo couldn’t remember.
Carefully keeping his face and voice neutral, he said, “You took it out of his bag?”
“Yeah, I wanted to sleep with it before he left.” Ari dragged her head up to look at him, her eyes stark. “But I forgot to put it back. He went on deployment and he didn’t have his lucky bear...”
Lips trembling, she buried her face once again in her knees. His heart aching, Geo rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. “So you’ve been thinking that might be why he died?”
When she didn’t respond, he gave her a sq
ueeze. “Honey, your daddy died because his brain got sick, just like my dad’s body got sick. Nothing we did made them die. Nothing.”
Another moment of absolute stillness, and then she shrugged his hand off and jumped to standing. “Gonna go warm up with the team.” Without another word, she jogged off.
Geo stayed where he was, his gut roiling with sorrow for the burden she’d picked up and carried all this time. Hadn’t he himself carried that exact same burden for years, until the wisdom that came from maturity and life experience finally convinced him otherwise?
He swallowed hard. But how much damage had that done in the meantime, damage to his psyche that in a lot of ways he was still dealing with today?
Guilt, responsibility, blame, anger...
Surging to his feet, Geo sought out Renae and told her what happened. Her cheeks paling, she clutched his arm.
“That explains so much,” she breathed. “I’ll let her therapist know. We’ve been searching for a way to break through to her, to understand her, and this might be it.” Her voice broke. “Oh, Jesus, help me help my baby.”
When she couldn’t go on, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered over and over. “So glad you’re here.”
The game was in full swing when Lani finally arrived, breezy and beautiful in a colorful maternity top and leggings. Geo’s pulse throbbed at the sight of her, the desire to whisk her away and make love to her almost overwhelming him.
Their eyes met, and she put the cupcakes down before sauntering over to him, her lips quirked in a sexy half-smile. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, gorgeous.” Geo reached out and drew her to him. With a contented sigh, she tucked herself into his side, her arms linked around his waist.
The game was a close one. Ari played with a ferocity that Geo recognized as an attempt to exhaust her body as well as quiet her mind. His gaze met Renae’s more than once in shared concern.
She saw it, too.
A sudden burst of cheering caught his attention, and he left Lani at the snack table to move closer to the field, where Ari drove toward the goal with seconds left, her feet a blur as she worked the ball. A quick pass to a teammate, a dart into scoring position, and then...
Trusting a Warrior Page 27
