Chapter 7
Jordan
Idon’t think this is a good idea,” Josie says when Jackson catches us at VETS and announces that he and Sergeant Montgomery plan to save me from enduring a few hours in our blank and depressing apartment.
“Sounds perfect to me,” I say a little too enthusiastically, and Josie shoots me a stern shut-up glare.
She fears what might happen while I’m out of reach, but she’ll be busy preparing for her trip, her crazy friend will be here soon, and library books and watching movies on a phone are entertaining for only so long. I need a break.
“Josie, Sergeant has extensive combat medic training. He’ll know what to do if something happens, and I doubt Jackson has forgotten all his training.” I look up at my former unit commander, and he shakes his head. “I can’t drink while taking medication, and it will just be dinner out. Nothing too wild…this time,” I add, hoping to tickle a giggle out of her. It doesn’t work. She’s stressing about more than me these days and can’t see that having one less thing to worry about for a few hours would be a good thing.
“Alright,” she finally concedes. “Anyway, I know I can’t stop you. You’re a grown man. But promise me all three of you will act like it tonight.” She wags a finger at me and Jackson like she isn’t half of our size.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jackson and I say together, stifling a grin.
“I’ll be by to pick you up at six,” he says to me before hugging Josie and heading back to his office.
“How was your therapy session today?” she asks as we push through the exit.
“Good. Doc gave me a few exercises that may help prevent seizures but says my head is screwed on tight. No worries in that department.”
Josie’s quiet as we make our way through the parking lot toward the sidewalk. It’s odd for her not to ask follow-up questions, and I chalk it up to pre-show nerves.
“Are you excited about your trip?” I ask to get her talking.
“I am. I hate that you won’t be there.”
“I’ll catch the next one. And the one after that. And the one after that.” I glance back at her and she’s smiling. Good. “You know it will happen. You’re too good for it not to.”
“Thank you, but you’re biased.”
“Maybe. I’m still right, though.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m excited for Nora to move in. When is she calling?”
Nora took a few friends to her mother’s storage unit and promised a video chat so Josie could pick out what she wants for the apartment.
She stops to check the time on her phone. “In about an hour,” she answers, pushing the chair into motion again.
“I’m glad you two are getting to know each other. Makes me happy.”
No response.
“She’s the one, you know?”
More silence. Odd. That statement would normally spark some kind of emotion from her.
Seeking an explanation for her lack of reaction, I shift in my seat to see her. Dark sunglasses cover much of her face, denying me the opportunity to read her. The sheer fact that she’s stoic shocks me. After a few seconds of me staring, her head tilts toward me, and her frown softly curls into a placating grin.
“I know.” She pats me on the shoulder.
Something about the way she says it makes me uneasy. Her voice inflections sound sad—not her usual irritation.
“I know you’ve never approved of our casual arrangement, but we’re committed to each other and that’s not changing.”
Unnerving silence follows that declaration all the way to the apartment.
“Do you have a problem with Nora and me?” I ask when she parks me in the living room.
“No.” It’s the answer I want to hear, but I’d appreciate it not coming with an exasperated sigh. “It’s just going to take me a while to fully trust her.”
“I get that. If you were dating, I’d have a hard time trusting them, too. Never trusted that Ryder guy.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing we broke up. He’s enough to turn me off dating your species for a long, long time.” She taps her chin with her finger in mock deliberation. “Maybe Grant has the right idea.”
I snicker. “Any man or woman would be lucky to have you. But don’t judge my gender by that one bad seed. If I had anything to say about it, he’d be kicked out of the club.”
At that, an authentic smile brightens her eyes, only for them to dim again as she removes a few cans of vegetables from the cabinet. “Looks like you’ll have to load up on calories at dinner tonight. Gonna be a corn and carrots kind of lunch.”
“I have money saved, Josie. We can afford to buy groceries.”
“Not an option. You have plans to fix up Mom and Dad’s house and live happily ever after there with a family of your own someday. I’m not messing with your nest egg. You’ve worked too hard.”
“So have you, Josie. I—”
“If I can sell a few paintings at this show and finish the mural at VETS, we’ll be set for a while.”
“Josie.”
Ignoring me, she opens the two cans and dumps both into a pot. “I’ve got a few commissions in the works as well that will get us—”
“Josie!”
She drops the spoon she grabbed from the drawer into the pot and stares at me over the counter. “What?”
“You don’t have to shoulder all this alone. I’m the reason you’re here, remember? I’m the one who needs constant babysitting. I’m the reason your life is on hold. Let me help.”
“No.” She goes back to stirring the vegetables, but she’s grinning. “You’re my baby brother—”
“We’re two years apart.”
“Irrelevant,” she quips with a shrug. “I’ve taken care of you since you were five years old.”
“I know, and I love you for it, but you don’t have to do everything anymore. Well, at least you don’t have to pay for everything.”
“Thank you, but I’ll go grocery shopping before I leave.”
I let out my frustration as sharp pains stab at my temples. “Josie.”
“Mmm hmm?” The cooking vegetables and the remnant emotions of our debate have her attention, and she pays me no mind.
“Jo…” My head wobbles while the room converges into a kaleidoscope. Bile rises into my throat, and I fall forward, helpless to hold myself up. Footsteps on the hardwood floors echo in my ears. Overhead lights seem to dim and flicker until it all vanishes.
◆◆◆
When my brain reactivates, I’m sitting in a red Mustang. The black leather steering wheel is warm in my hands from the mid-day sun shining through the windshield. The open driver’s side window rustles my shirt, and I’m content—happy to be free.
I have several hundred dollars and the bucket list I scribbled on the back of a jewelry store flier burning a hole in my wallet. Both have me excited for the days and weeks ahead. The only problem is, I don’t know which activity to check off the list first.
Cliff diving and wine tasting in Italy? Mountain climbing in Switzerland? Camel riding to the pyramids in Egypt? Skiing in Vale will have to wait until winter. Gambling away some of my savings in Las Vegas? Swimming with dolphins in the Caribbean? Feeling the mist on my face from Niagara Falls? White water rafting, cave exploring, skydiving? The world is waiting for me, and I can’t wait to go…somewhere, anywhere.
Then again, restoring my parents’ house is something I’ve been looking forward to for years. The sheer amount of manual labor needed to bring the old shack back to life isn’t overwhelming. It’s exciting. I’ve got the entire plan laid out in my mind. Marble countertops and a farmer’s sink in the kitchen. Sanded and restained hardwood floors throughout. New electrical and plumbing. A coat of paint and a major cleaning will go a long way in transforming it into my new bachelor pad.
Wait…
Bachelor pad? Freedom to roam the world? What about Nora? What about my service? Forcing open my eyes, I see Josie pacing by the patio doors. It takes a bit to realize I’m no longer sitting in the sports car I’ve wanted since I was eight years old. Since Josie bought me a similar Matchbox car with the few dollars she earned selling her paintings to the neighbors.
She chews her fingernail with frantic abandon, lost in thought. The itching that never stops inside my cast registers with the realization that the car and my freedom were only a dream.
“Jo Jo,” I manage, and she drops to kneel in front of me.
“Hi. How are you feeling?”
“Groggy. How long was I out?”
She twisted to check the clock on the microwave. “Long enough for the vegetables to get cold, but not long enough to miss Nora calling.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
“I was about to contact Jackson and cancel guys’ night.”
“No. I want to go.”
“Jordan.” She rises and props her fists on her hips, disapproval scrunching her expression. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“I know you’re protective, but I need to get out of here.” I swallow the sour taste in my mouth. “I’ll only be in the way and a distraction.” I turn my hand over and prop it up with my elbow on the armrest. She reluctantly takes it. “You and Grant can join us after you finish packing, and we can celebrate your big break.”
“I’d like that. But if you feel woozy even for one second…”
“I’ll say something.”
“Thank you.”
“And thank you for all you’re doing for me. I love you.”
“Oh, Jordie. I love you, too.”
◆◆◆
Going out is exactly what I need tonight. There’s great food for my empty stomach, a distraction everywhere I turn, entertaining conversation, and Sergeant Montgomery is a few beers away from smiling. It’s almost perfect. The only thing missing is Nora.
I texted her and hinted that she should crash guys’ night, but she was worn out from driving and packing and unpacking the furniture. It is a dick move for me to be out relaxing while she and Josie labor away at the apartment, but I’m less than useless these days. At least here, I’m not forced to face the burden I’ve become.
“Hi, fellas,” I look up and see two women standing over the table with eager smiles. “Would you like to join our group?” The taller one points to two tables pushed together near the dance floor full of women in animated conversation. One looks over and wiggles her fingers at us.
“Taken,” I say and shrug.
“Married,” Jackson says, flashing the gold band. When did he get that? Why can’t I remember his wedding? I had to be there, right?
I hear the woman say something like, “That leaves you,” to Sergeant, but I’m too confused to process it. I want to ask Jackson about his wedding, but if I was there, he’d think I lost my mind. If I wasn’t, what kind of friend does that make me?
My heart rate spikes with so many unanswered questions, and the sudden commotion of Sergeant’s big body pushing back his chair and rising doesn’t help. I watch him walk away in stunned silence. The shorter woman with long blonde hair and jean shorts wraps her arm around his and leads him toward their table. The taller woman on his other side says something to him, drawing his attention, and I’m speechless. For him to be social with strangers, he must have had more beers than I noticed. What else have I missed lately?
My thoughts continue to roam free with a bewildered abandon when another female interrupts with the same greeting.
“Hi, fellas.” Turning toward the friendly voice, I’m glad to see I’m not stuck in a time loop. It’s Josie with Grant trailing behind her.
“You doing okay?” she asks me, her hand falling to my shoulder. She gets my best smile, and it seems to convince her I’m not as messed up as I feel. Taking Sergeant’s seat, she introduces Grant to Jackson. “Where’s that grumpy sergeant of yours?” she asks.
“He found better company.” Jackson points to him, sitting at the head of the table surrounded by adoring women.
“Can’t say I expected that.”
“Good for him,” Grant chimes in with his usual flair. “At least we know one of us is gonna have a hot night.”
“You better watch it. You’re engaged,” Josie teases him.
“Eric knows what he’s getting.” He motions to his body with both hands and settles back in his seat, all smug and comfortable. “And there ain’t no taming this.”
“Anyway.” Josie rolls her eyes in jest and turns back to us. “What have you boys been up to?”
“We just finished eating when Sergeant’s harem whisked him away,” I answer.
“That’s it?” Grant’s displeasure with our easy-going flow is evident in his crooked frown. “No dancing or mingling or games?”
“Marines aren’t good at those things,” Josie teases.
“I have an idea to spice things up and get this party started.” He retrieves the frozen margarita he brought from the bar and raises it. “We’ll play truth or dare.”
“Oh, Crayola. I’m out.”
His head tilts to the side with annoyance at Josie’s refusal. “Why?”
“Because you’re ruthless and the only one who won’t be embarrassed,” Josie complains, knowing her friend well. “No one will get out of it without bruises.”
“Bring it on,” Jackson challenges, and Grant scoots to the edge of his seat, ready to make him regret that statement.
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Jackson decides quickly.
“Wildest place you’ve ever had sex.”
Josie slaps a palm to her forehead, making Jackson chuckle. I feel the tightness in my chest give a little because I know Jackson, and his answer will not be as juicy as Grant wants.
“Dining room table,” he answers pragmatically.
Grant takes him in with several slow blinks. “How can you look like that and not have any wild sex stories? Dining room table? That’s all you’ve got?”
“It was quite the moment,” Jackson jokes.
“Wow.”
“Jackson was married to the Marines until he found Emily, so don’t hold it against him,” I urge.
Grant rolls his eyes. “Since you’re a national hero, I’ll let it slide this one time.” He turns to Josie. “You’re up, missy.”
She groans out her displeasure and gulps down the rest of her pink, fruity cocktail. “Dare.”
“I haven’t even asked yet.”
“And you know all my secrets.”
“Oh, really?” I complain. “Are there some you haven’t told me?”
She stares before turning back to her friend. “Let me have it.” She winks over her shoulder at me, and I’m not sure how I feel about this. We tell each other everything…or so I thought.
“That disgustingly hot, muscley guy over there with all the chicks, ask him to dance.”
“Hayes?”
“Sergeant?” I say at the same time.
“But he’s so broody, and all those women will throw their ice-cold drinks at me.” She shivers at the thought.
“Gorgeous broody men are so much sexier than cinnamon roll types…sorry, boys,” he says to me and Jackson, and again, I don’t know how to take it. I chuckle to myself.
“Does that mean we’re cinnamon rolls?” Jackson asks him, amusement in his eyes.
“Oh, yeah. The sweet, gooey kind, fit for biting.” He bares his teeth and laughter bursts from Jackson’s chest.
“I’ve had my fair share of broodiness over the years, so I’ll take it.”
“Good. Now, get to it, sweetheart,” Grant says to Josie.
“I don’t know who’s scarier—Mr. Grumpy or all those catty females sure to ruin my favorite top.”
“Only one way to find out.”
Josie rises from her seat, and my stomach churns. Her target is my sergeant. We’re not even supposed to be hanging out together like this, but I assume we get a pass because of my injuries. Just a commanding officer checking in on his lieutenant. But he’s six-three, two hundred and twenty pounds of muscle, and she’s a buck fifteen soaking wet.
Sergeant would never do anything to hurt her physically. It’s her heart I’m worried about. He doesn’t hold back. The edges of his personality are jagged and sharper than she’s used to. While she may act like she’s sporting a tough outer shell, she’s sensitive, and her tender side bruises easily. Without meaning to, he could leave behind a few blemishes and never know. One of Josie’s most practiced skills—and the most dangerous in my brotherly opinion—is hiding how much she hurts behind a glorious ray of sunshine.
Watching her stroll over to him, the knot in my chest pulls tight again.
“And we have contact, boys,” Grant commentates as Sergeant turns to find the tap on his shoulder came from my sister. “What is this? Another sexy woman wants me?” he says in a deep voice, pretending to be Sergeant. “He’s contemplating. He’s on the verge of denying the request. Choose one woman or ten? It’s a no brain—Oh! What’s this? That gorgeous ass is off the chair, his interest piqued.” Grant’s eyebrows dance at us before he returns to the play-by-play. “Lord have mercy, at full height, he is something to behold. What does he remind me of? Sexy Viking? Greek god? Oh, hot lumberjack. He could split a little something in two with just one thrust of his big—”
“Grant,” I scold.
“What? I was talking about his wood splitting skills. But speaking of wood, she could use a little rough and tumble, if you know what I mean.”
“I do, and I’d prefer you not talk about it.”
“Sure. I’ll keep my comments for another time when you’re not so uptight.”
“Or may I suggest never in my presence?”
Grant tosses me a what-evs look and returns his attention to Josie and Sergeant. “Well, look at that.”
My eyes reluctantly follow his to find my sister’s head resting on Sergeant Montgomery’s chest and his hands intertwined on her back. A few measures of the ballad, playing over the loudspeaker, pass before she looks up at him and speaks. His brow pinches in the middle as he looks away in thought. She continues her speech and something she says has his gaze snapping back to her. He studies her before slowly responding with a nod. None of that exchange sits well in my gut. Doesn’t help that instead of going their separate ways after the one-sided conversation, he follows her through the crowded dance floor and out of sight.
“Hmm. Looks like Jo Jo agrees with me,” Grant says, spinning in his chair and sipping his drink. “Good for her.”
If I had more than one good arm, I’d strangle that smugness right off his pretty face. Jackson clears his throat and hides a grin behind his glass of water.
“He has a reputation, doesn’t he?” Grant asks Jackson, knowing I wouldn’t dare answer that question. “Strong, silent type. Good with his hands…and other appendages.”
Jackson chokes on his last sip and that’s what he gets for not taking my side.
Several minutes string into twenty before Josie and Sergeant emerge from the crowd. She heads our way, while he stops by the women’s table he abandoned to go with Josie.
“All hail Queen Josie,” Grant teases, and her pink cheeks flush red with a satisfied giggle.
“Queen?”
“You, my queen, successfully plucked the town’s most eligible prince from the ordinary townsfolk over there and showed them who’s in charge. You were magnificent before, but now…” He pretends to bow to her, and my temper surges, especially when he asks, “Where did you two run off?”
“We didn’t run anywhere. Why do you ask?”
“You had your hands all over each other and then you left together. In my book, that’s running off.”
Josie glances my way but doesn’t meet my gaze. “We both needed a break from the noise, and I stopped by the restroom.”
“Mmm hmm,” he hums. “Well, now you’ve gotten it out of your system, it’s Jordan’s turn. Truth or dare?”
Despite my eyes are shooting darts at him, daring him to say another word about Sergeant and Josie, he holds his ground. “Truth,” I answer.
“When was the last time you released that tension you’ve got bubbling inside your…” He waggles a finger at my lap, and my hand balls into a fist. There’s something else bubbling inside me now, and it’s about to boil over.
“Do you ever think about anything else?”
“Rarely.”
“Grant, leave him alone. He needs to keep his stress level down.”
“I’m not a child, Josie.”
“Of course you’re not,” she placates, and for the first time, it makes me sick.
“It’s my turn for a break. Jackson, would you mind taking me home?”
“Sure, buddy.” He drops a few bills from his wallet onto the table and takes hold of the wheelchair handles.
Josie rises to come with us. “Stay. I need some time alone.”
“Jordan,” she says in protest, but we’re already moving away from the table.
“What was that about?” Jackson asks after loading the chair into his truck bed and backing out of the parking space.
Giving myself time to cool down, I let out a long exhale, grateful to have someone other than Josie to talk to. “When Grant asked me that question, a vision of Nora and me flashed through my thoughts, and I don’t know what to make of it.”
“What was it? If you want to talk about it.”
I nod. “We were in bed, and she was upset. She looked terrified and determined to push me away. In that moment, I was beyond angry. More like destroyed. Like a piece of my heart had been ripped out of my chest.” What I saw in those few seconds brought on a pain so tangible, yet so unexpected, I’m still reeling with the aftermath.
“What do you think it means? Our brains can conjure up all kinds of things—I’ve been there countless times—but it doesn’t make what you see real.” He stops at a traffic light and looks my way. “What we’ve endured during our service, it messes with you. Not to mention your accident. How was Nora when you saw her?” He takes off after the light turns green.
“That’s the thing. She was distant and cautious. I expected her to be more…”
“More what?”
I shrug, disappointment setting in. “Excited. Relieved. Affectionate.”
“You know her better than me, but I’ve yet to see much emotion from her. She stays in control, no matter what.”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe she was overwhelmed from being the last to learn about the accident,” he suggests.
“Yeah.”
Each explanation, while adequate and believable, do nothing to ease the dread, tumbling like rocks down a mountain inside me.
We park outside the apartment building and make our way inside. After taking my meds, it’s not long before they make me drowsy, and he helps me lie down.
“Thanks, Jackson,” I mumble and drift off to sleep with a dozen more unanswered questions to add to the growing list.
But before focusing on answers, I need to make amends with Josie. I took my fears and frustrations out on her, and no matter what happened with Sergeant tonight, she didn’t deserve my wrath.