29. KATIE
Chapter twenty-nine
KATIE
T here’s too much noise and confusion. People are talking over me, and it’s hard to hear the radio comms.
“What?” I ask again, waiting to hear a report from Sargent Rodrigez.
“There’s a dispute happening in the market; hold the convoy back until we clear this up.”
I put my hand up to pause the three humvees of medical supplies and cross over to talk with one of the other officers. This is just a routine drop off. We’ve done this before; we check that it’s clear, make the supply drop, then we return to base.
But today is different. Major Watkins wasn’t on comms. There is some kind of celebration happening on the eastern side of the village, distracting our attention. I feel the static in the air.
Then Corporal Casey goes and rolls the humvee forward, only an additional four feet. Not even a full body length. But the weight is just enough to—
Boom!
Pain lances through my knee, heat burning against my right side.
“Casey!” I shriek, fighting to the surface. This time it feels like the weight of the whole humvee is pressing me down. I can’t surface, can’t escape the heat burning me from the inside out. I thrash, frantically trying to stand, to race over the other smoking vehicle; to keep everyone back in case there are more—
“Katie?”
Someone grabs me, their hands cool against my cheeks and neck. So cool, so gentle.
“Gods Above, Katie you’re feverish!”
Clean laundry and old books wrap around me, and strong arms haul me from the tangle I’m in. I whimper and my knee throbs, the echoes of glass shrapnel still spiking through my body.
“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”
My eyelids flutter against a soft golden glow. A lamp? No; it should be the harsh light of the med tent; and the chattering of my teeth as they brought me down from shock and numbed my leg to pull fragments of glass and metal from my knee.
I frown and blink, forcing my eyes open.
“Love, look at me. You’re safe.” Loren brushes hair from my forehead, his concerned face staring down at me. I’m cradled in his arms, like a child. I try to push him away –I do not need his help, but he holds me firm. Not tight or smothering, but firm.
“You’ve had a nightmare. I think you might have spiked a fever. I need to check to make sure you aren’t getting sick.”
There's a strange note of anxiety under his commanding tone that stills me.
“I’m fine,” I say, and sit up in his arms. “Just a nightmare. I’ve had it before.”
He runs a glass tube across my forehead then pulls it away, nodding once.
“Fever is coming down; must have been related to your dream.” He sets the strange thermometer down and looks at me. “Was it from your military service?”
I press my hands against my forehead. I really don’t want to talk about it. I really don’t want to think about it. Blocking out all of the pain and messiness of that day and the weeks that followed has been my survival mechanism for the last year. Now is definitely not the time to dismantle that particular mental wall.
“Yes, it’s about my last deployment; no, I don’t want to talk.”
My voice is harsh even in my ears, but Loren doesn’t even flinch. Instead he kisses my knuckles, sending waves of warmth radiating up my forearms.
“Then, how about a snuggle? Take your mind off of the dream?”
I glance sideways at him. “I’m not going to sleep with you,” I say, but he presses one finger to my lips. I have the wildest desire to suck that finger into my mouth. But no, I am not going to do that, just like I’m not going to sleep with any of these men.
At least not yet.
No, not ever.
Unless I really am stuck here, and they really are half as devoted as they seem.
I rub my eyes, my brain and body ping-ponging in opposite directions.
“Lay down and I’ll rub your back; it doesn't have to go farther than that. I’m patient, Katie, and you’re worth it.”
I want to snap at him, to shout that he shouldn’t lie to me.
I am a broken mess, and waiting won’t do him an ounce of good!
But something so deep inside that I’m not even sure where it comes from tells me that what he’s saying is true . He will wait for me. Take my lead. Sees me as worth the trouble.
And dammit, instead of being elated by this, it hurts. Why is this stranger the one to say he’ll stay? Why is this stranger the one to comfort me when I’m falling apart? Where are all the people who are supposed to be by my side? I hiccup, trying to swallow back all the tears that press against my eyelashes.
Loren rubs wide circles over my shoulders and I try to let my joints loosen into the pillows and mattress. My muscles are still tight, pain still lancing up through my leg and thigh. My stomach churns. Loren has been nothing but patient with me. Yes, it’s only been like three days, and any man should be patient that long. But, I’ve known men who would leave after just one date if they didn’t get laid. Loren has made me meals, brought me books, and answered questions. He has taken care of me more than anyone has since…
Since before dad died.
Pain cuts through my abdomen, like an ache from too much coffee on an empty stomach.
Pain from seeing what real care looks like. God, how long have I gone without it? How long have I lived without at least one person looking out for me?
Hot tears leak down my cheeks, and Loren keeps rubbing circles up and down my back.
“Can I do anything?” He doesn't press or push me for more details. Just rubs my back and lets me weep in the silence between us.
“No,” I whisper.
Because he’s already doing so much more than I could have expected or asked for. He’s giving me care I didn’t even know I needed.
The silence stretches, then Loren speaks, his voice hardly above a whisper.
“Callum and I met in the Army; he was enlisted and I was an officer. I don’t know how your military is structured, but ours creates quite a divide between enlisted and officers.”
I nod, then wipe my eyes with the back of my hand.
“Well, Cal and I got on from the first. I think we knew that we were evenly matched strength for strength. He should have been an officer –hell they promoted him on the field three times. But he didn’t come from… the kind of pedigree that being an officer from the outset requires. Anyway, we knew that if we made it through our deployment to the border skirmishes, we’d be Pack.”
He pauses the story, but never stops rubbing my shoulders.
“We… we fought in a pretty terrible battle along the border with the Northern Kingdom of Kharawyn. There are lots of small independent villages there –ones that are mostly Betas living in Beta-only packs. I know this doesn't mean much to you yet, but there’s long-standing animosity between the Kharawyn royal family and Savolinna. They… well they execute a lot of their Alphas and even some of their Omegas. It’s a brutal system.”
I flinch under his touch, but he doesn't hesitate, just switches to running long strokes up and down my back.
“I saw a lot of violence when I was in the military. I’m not like some Alphas who enjoy the violence, who let the worst part of their inner beast out on the battlefield. I hated every single day that I had to go out and end lives. Even when I knew the lives I ended deserved it. I still remember them, all those people. Some were just faceless combatants. But, each one that I saw up close, I remember.
“Sometimes they come back in dreams. I guess as a reminder of the lives I took, the parts of myself I lost on those battlefields,” Loren says quietly.
I barely hear the last words, his voice is so soft. I roll in his embrace, letting his fingertips graze over my sides and stomach. He rests them lightly on my hips.
“I don’t know what to say to make it better,” I admit. So I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing into him.
He takes a deep inhale, a single shudder trembling his body.
“Just you being here makes it better,” he says, before kissing the top of my head. “You steady me. Your presence helps to keep me here and now, instead of getting lost back there and then.”
We stay like that, wrapped up in one another, letting our heartbeats find a rhythm, letting our breathing find a pattern. Letting our bruised hearts find peace, together.
God, I wish I could stay like this with him. With them .