Chapter Twenty-nine – Bruises
Mac
brUISES
Performed by Lewis Capaldi
I sat at a bar in Florida with Nash. We both had beers in front of us, but mine was hardly touched while he was on his second. I was leaving the next day for Rockport. For Eli and Ava’s wedding. I should have been filled with happiness, and I might have been closer to feeling that way if it weren’t for Nash. I wasn’t sure I should leave him yet.
I’d been there the day he’d climbed out of the plane on the tarmac at SOCOM. Nash had been responsible for getting the team out from under gunfire and to their backup rendezvous spot, carrying what was left of Darren and two other team members’ bodies with them. They’d come straight from Africa to Florida—no stopover in Germany for our covert ops teams—so I’d seen the blood on all of them. I’d witnessed the rough stitches that the medic on the plane had given Nash, the bloodied bandages on two others. The flag-draped bodies. I’d seen the look on Nash’s face. If I was riddled with guilt, Nash was consumed with it. He’d lost not only his team leader but also his best friend. He might as well have lost a body part.
I hadn’t left his side for several days after he’d landed. Not because I was afraid he’d take his own life, but afraid that he’d take someone else’s. Afraid that he’d be the guy with a gun, shooting up the place. He’d been pissed at the fuckers who’d approved the op, and I think, deep inside, he’d been pissed at me, and I shouldered it, because I deserved it.
We’d both be testifying against the assholes in charge of the operation in a few weeks before a Senate committee. There were several careers ending because of this. I had made it my new mission to make it happen. It was too little, too late, but it was all I could do when faced with the reality I didn’t want.
“I gotta get outta here,” Nash said, and he waved his hand at the bartender. When the bill came, I swiped it out of his hands. I wasn’t letting him pay. Never again. If I was there, I was paying. I didn’t know how else to show my sorrow and regret.
We walked out of the bar, and the humidity instantly weighed me down. Florida in October might as well be October in June. At least it felt that way this year. I’d almost forgotten what it was like because it had been awhile since my last stint in Florida, but after this, I could easily say that it was nowhere I wanted to live long-term. I liked weather, but I wanted variety. I wanted snowstorms, and fall leaves, and spring blossoms. The humidity I could always do without, but I’d take it if I knew there would soon be the scent of fall on the wind.
“Let me drive you home,” I said, waving my keys at the rental I’d had for a month.
He didn’t say anything until we got in the car. “ Don’t drop me at my place. Take me to Darren’s.”
I grimaced. I wasn’t sure Tristan wanted his drunk ass showing up at nine o’clock at night. But I also knew arguing with him wasn’t going to work. He’d just get out of the car, get in his own, and drive there anyway. He’d somehow convinced himself that it was now his responsibility to look after Tristan and baby Hannah. While I could understand where his feelings were coming from, I also knew Tristan wasn’t going to let him get away with it for long. She had her own grief to deal with; she didn’t need his as well.
Besides, Tristan’s mom was there, helping her until the Navy packed their things and sent them back to Delaware where Tristan would be moving in with her family. Nash would be here, trying to put his squad back together. If it was even possible. If the powers that be would even let them.
My worry for him grew.
“You sure you don’t want to come with me?” I asked.
“To a wedding? Uninvited?” He grimaced at me.
“There would be lots of people there happy to see you.”
“It’s a goddamn celebration, Mac. Do I look like I’m ready to celebrate?” The anger in his voice bounced off the windows it was so strong.
We drove in silence as pain washed over us. Guilt. Anger. Neither of us had gone through all the stages of grief yet. I wasn’t sure I was ready for a celebration, either. But I ached to see people I loved. I ached to show them I loved them before it was too late. I shoved aside the voice that tried to tell me I didn’t deserve it. I knew the voice was wrong. I’d been talking with my dad a lot about the weight of the guilt. He’d experienced his own losses in his career—even this one he felt. He was good at reminding me that all of us left behind deserved a life that was full. We just had to learn from the godawful lessons we were dealt along the way.
When I parked in front of the darkened house, Nash got out. I turned off the car, got out, and called his name. He stopped, turning back to me, the moonlight making the hollows of his eyes look even darker than they were these days. I didn’t have words, but I stepped up to him and pulled him into a hug. His body was stiff and tight. Unforgiving. I just held on, and eventually, he hugged me back. Then he pushed me away.
“Get off, man. I know you want me, but geez, don’t you have a girl?” he teased in a tone that was almost his old self. Almost.
But his words hurt almost as much as Darren’s death. I’d had a girl once. A woman. A lady who smelled like cherry blossoms. A woman who fit. But she’d cut and run, and even though I’d still been texting with her off and on over the course of the last month, she was still holding me just out of reach. A glass wall had come down between us that I hadn’t been able to break.
Nash didn’t know this because, crazy as it seemed, we hadn’t talked about Georgie once since I’d been there. We’d been focused on recovering. We’d been focused on funerals and retaliations.
“I did, but I’m pretty sure she left me,” I said with a wry, half-smile .
“Pretty sure? You don’t even know?” He chuckled, and it felt good to be the reason he laughed. It was good to hear it escape his lips when he’d been nothing but sorrow for the month I’d been here. Darren’s funeral had been the worst of it for me, but not Nash. He’d had to bury two more members of his squad, wishing they were there instead of him.
I shrugged.
“Didn’t think you were a quitter, Mac.”
That hit too close to home, and he knew it. Maybe it was why he’d said it, but he looked like he regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He looked away and then back. He hit me on the shoulder. “We just saw how quickly things can change. Don’t let her get away that easy if you really love her.”
Then he walked toward Tristan’s darkened house.
My mind was whirling around his words when I got in the car, and my phone dinged: Eli.
CAPTAIN: On your way yet?
ME: Not till oh five hundred.
CAPTAIN: Ava is nervous because you aren’t here yet.
ME: First of all, it’ll only be Thursday tomorrow, and the wedding isn’t until Saturday. Second of all, come hell or high water, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t be late for my best friend’s wedding.
CAPTAIN: So, I get to tell Truck that I win? I’m the best friend ?
ME: Don’t be an asswipe. You know Truck wins in both our books. He’s the better man.
CAPTAIN: True story.
My hand drifted over the text button. I wanted to ask if Georgie was there yet. I wanted to know if she looked as gorgeous as she did in my dreams, the ache to see her swelling into a full-blown heart attack. My dad was right. Nash was right. Life was over too fast to waste the moments we had. I’d never known that love could feel like this. So goddamn satisfying and so goddamn painful.
I wanted to know if she’d listened when I, and then my sister, had told her that her family wasn’t anything to get worked up over, but I was also afraid to know the answer. To know if she was still running.
When I’d gotten down to SOCOM, my first order of business was to destroy the fuckers who’d approved the op that had killed Darren and his squad members. My anger and guilt had eased only slightly, knowing that their careers would be over. It wasn’t enough for the three lives they’d cost, but if I held out for more, I’d have to drag myself down with them, and so I settled for seeing them discharged. I settled for the Senate committee disintegrating the little group of diplomats who’d been pushing it. I settled, promising myself to never let it happen again. To save lives instead of cost them.
After I’d filtered through the mission details and drunk myself into a stupor with Nash, I’d returned to SOCOM and quietly probed at Petya Leskov’s file, hoping I wouldn’t raise any red flags in doing it. I just needed to know what I was getting into, and even though I knew, with all of my heart, that Georgie wasn’t tied up in the business; I needed to see what others thought. Fucking Descartes weighing on me just like he weighed on her. Proof.
What I could find out wasn’t much, but it seemed everyone believed Petya Leskov was a gun dealer. They just hadn’t been able to confirm it. Drugs were definitely not his thing. There were pictures of his home from above, a mansion that used to belong to Russian royalty, and there were pictures of his private security team that rivaled a Special Forces unit. From what people could tell, he seemed to love his wife, his children, and his stepdaughter. CIA and NSA had run several intelligence ops to gather more details but had come up short every time. Georgie, herself, had been a repeated dead end.
So, I was left with what I knew to be true: Malik was in rehab somewhere, Raisa was ensconced in her scientific studies at Stanford, and Georgie was pursuing her law degree without being hounded by the U.S. government. But she’d always have a target on her back. All of the agencies would eventually circle back around to her in another attempt to gather intel on Petya as long as he did business on the dark side of the law.
This pissed me off. It made me want to protect her. But it also meant if I was tied to her, I would always be subject to the same targeting. No matter how “clean” I lived my life, I’d be scrutinized. Because I’d decided I wouldn’t be running for office, being followed or bugged wouldn’t be a big deal. If my superiors called me out on it occasionally, so be it. Losing Darren had forced me to wake up to the truth I’d already been realizing in my time on the Hill. Politics weren’t for me. I wanted honor and loyalty in my life not half-truths and betrayals.
The only thing that really mattered was loving Georgie. Showing her that she was cherished regardless of her family.
She’d moved out of our apartment for the same reason she’d taken the drugs from Raisa. To protect the people she loved. To protect my dream. But it was one I no longer wanted. I just needed to convince her that it had nothing to do with who she was and everything to do with who I was.
It was time someone protected Georgie and her dreams, and I wanted that someone to be me. I hadn’t been there for Darren, but I could be there for her. The only future I gave a daman about was the one with her at my side.
? ? ?
On the flight to Corpus Christi, I was restless. Up and out of my seat so much the stewardess started to comment on it. She also eyed me up and down like a steak she wanted to sauté and eat, but I wasn’t interested. I understood a little better how Eli could be oblivious to the females hitting on him at the bar on a regular basis. None of them really registered when you loved someone enough.
An old Paul Newman quote about his marriage registered in my brain. He’d said, “I have steak at home. Why should I go out for hamburger?” That was how I felt. I wanted my steak. I wanted Georgie. I didn’t want anything else .
We’d face the challenges of my Navy career, her law career, and her family as they came. Hell, I had Thomas the Weasel in my family, and I was sure he was going to get arrested for some kind of marijuana charge at some point, hemp being the new answer to every environmental problem that Thomas could think up.
When I got off the plane, I had a text from Dani.
brAT: Did you tell her about one-eyed Whittaker?
I didn’t have to ask who “her” was. Dani was flying in for the wedding tomorrow, and I knew my sister would be on my team. Maybe between the two of us, we could get Georgie to see the light.
ME: Why the hell would I have told her about him?
brAT: He fought for the Confederacy. He wanted to keep slavery. We have our own skeletons.
ME: I don’t think she’s going to care about a relative who lived almost two centuries ago.
brAT: Did you tell her about the time you got caught streaking?
ME: I’ve never been caught streaking.
brAT: Oh. Right. That was Bee .
ME: WHAT?! Bee was caught streaking?
brAT: Oops. I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.
ME: ** laughing, falling off chair GIF**
ME: I can’t wait to give her shit about that.
brAT: You’d rat me out?
ME: Sister dear, you rat me out all the time.
brAT: But I’m trying to help you win the love of your life back.
ME: True story. I apologize. Your secret is safe with me.
I hadn’t checked my bag, and after grabbing my duffel from the overhead compartment, I almost sprinted off the plane, through the gate, and out of the terminal. I had more energy than I’d had in several weeks, the weight on my shoulders lifting slightly. Hope filling me for the first time in days. I texted Eli as I went, letting him know I was there.
He pulled up with Truck in the passenger seat. I flung my bag into the bed and crammed my large frame into the backseat. I punched each of them in the shoulder and kissed Truck on the side of his head.
“Gah, get off me,” he said, wiping at his face with a smile.
“Is she here?” I asked as Eli took off.
“Hello. Nice to see you, too.” Eli snorted .
“Hello, my douchebag friends. Is Georgie here?”
Truck smirked at me. “She arrived this morning, but the women aren’t at the house. They’re staying at the Lighthouse Hotel.”
“Fuck,” I said, falling back and strapping on my seat belt, which I’d almost forgotten in my desire to learn more about Georgie.
“Dude, you have it bad,” Truck said, grinning.
I flicked the back of his head, and he flipped me off. I loved these two men almost as much as I loved my sisters. I thanked God that neither of them had been on the squad I’d lost. The Coast Guard had its own elite team, but Truck hadn’t ever shown interest in it, and Eli was now out of the military all together.
“How was SOCOM?” Eli asked almost as if he’d read my mind.
“Shitstorm. But I’m going back to D.C. now. I have to testify in front of Congress next month.”
For a moment, we were all quiet, the loss of military men settling down between us. Respect. Sorrow. Eli was the first to break the silence.
“Truck’s going to work at the academy in New London.”
“No way!” I said, truly happy for him. “They’re going to let you train future Coasties? Whose ass did you kiss for that job?”
“I can tell you’re back in the Navy. All the swearing.” Eli chuckled.
It was true. Being around SOCOM had made it even worse. The Special Forces teams swore so much it was like they’d challenged themselves to find a way to say whole sentences without anything but swear words .
“Did Georgie say anything about me?” I asked.
“I win,” Eli said, and Truck groaned.
“What the hell?” I glared at them both.
“I bet you’d say her name at least two times within the first five minutes.” Eli’s grin was contagious. I needed this. After the heartache and the gloom that had settled over SOCOM since the incident, it was good to be surrounded by smiles and harassment.
I’d told them both snippets of the Georgie debacle over the last month as they’d tried to keep me from derailing after the screw-up that had caused Darren to lose his life. To cause Tristan to lose her husband, and Hannah to lose her dad. My smile disappeared.
“Will it help if I tell you I think she’s purposely not saying your name?” Eli asked.
“Yes. Yes. It would,” I told him back.
“I have a new bet,” Truck said.
“Oh yeah, what?” Eli asked.
“I bet the douchebag won’t make it through the wedding without kissing her.”
“You think he’ll make it all the way to the wedding without kissing her? You really have never been in love, Travis ,” Eli teased.
“First, I’m not sure I want you two betting on the outcome of my love life, and two, what’s with the Travis?” I asked.
“Travis here thinks it’s way more ‘professional’ for him to be known by his real name in New London,” Eli informed me.
“Shit, man, Truck is a fucking kid nickname,” Truck griped.
I understood what he meant. It was why I’d gotten rid of Robbie and balked at being stuck in a bro-ship name with him when I’d seen Georgie this summer, but I wasn’t going to let him know any of that.
“Doesn’t matter what you go by, the cadets will just come up with their own nickname for you,” I said.
Eli smirked. “This is very true.”
Truck glowered, and I smiled, but as we got closer to Rockport, my brain slid back to Georgie. I wanted to make Eli drive straight to the Lighthouse Hotel, storm the ladies’ bachelorette gathering, and demand that Georgie see me. Because no matter the glass wall she’d surrounded herself with, no matter her family or my career choices, I knew I could convince her we belonged together. I knew that if I could just touch her, she’d feel the truth in her soul, just like I did.