Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Colin
S tealth was not one of Zara’s skills. Or if it was, she wasn’t utilizing it at all. I heard her stomping steps long before the door to my bedroom was flung open and hit the wall with a thump. The anger on her face wasn’t a surprise nor was the confrontational way she stood with her hand on her hip as if she thought one look would get me to fall to my knees with apology.
With how sexy she looked dressed only in one of Lincoln’s shirts, I might have been convinced to drop to my knees for other reasons but knew that wasn’t why she had come. She was there to demand something from me I couldn’t give, no matter how much I wanted to. Would she be able to understand?
I prayed that Zara would. Being with her and Lincoln had been powerful on a level I couldn't have expected. Something I would do almost anything to repeat. The acts themselves hadn’t been anything particularly special. In fact we’d been almost vanilla if you ignored the number of people involved. But even without all the bells and whistles of BDSM, we’d connected on a level I’d never felt before.
Getting up to leave had been hard. Unfortunately, taking into account the stress of the day and what we’d done, I’d known that if I laid with her for much longer, I’d have fallen asleep. Putting her at risk of my night terrors wasn’t something I was willing to risk. Telling her that should be easy, but I’d never discussed them with anyone. The only reason Lincoln knew about them was because he lived with me.
“Explain yourself.”
She sounded like a mother scolding a misbehaving child. I couldn't hold back my smirk. Zara had guts, I would give her that. However, the haughty attitude she was displaying wasn’t something I’d accept even if her frustration was justified. The thought of tugging her across my lap and reddening her ass until she begged me to stop was tempting, but punishing her would have to wait.
“Good to see you too, Zara. Please come in.” The sarcasm and rebuke were clear in my voice.
She might have reason to be annoyed, but I wouldn’t let her run over me. Zara stepped in and closed the door behind her and crossed her arms over her breasts. Did she think hiding her beautiful body would keep me from learning the truth? That I wouldn’t see her reaction to me. Even if I couldn’t see her pert nipples, the staccato of the pulse at her neck told me all I needed to know. I think deep down, Zara had always wanted someone who could take her control away while keeping her safe.
“Sorry.”
Her apology was far from sincere. Behind the anger was an emotion that surprised me. Hurt. It was the last thing I wanted her to feel. My inability to sleep in the same room as someone else had been a sticking point for women in the past. It was frustrating to have someone mad at you for something you couldn’t control. Though Zara was the first person who made me really wish I could. I’d never felt close enough to share my weakness with a woman, but for her I might.
“Apology accepted. Now, what would you like me to explain?” It was a stalling technique I couldn’t help but use. What if she looked at me with pity after I explained?
I saw the battle of emotions that played across her face and felt like an arse. I knew what she wanted to ask. Thing was I didn’t want to have to explain. Showing weakness wasn’t something I did. Even worse, if she didn’t accept my explanation, what would that mean? I wouldn’t give up on there being an us. It was why I needed Lincoln. Why I couldn’t have a woman alone, not that I wanted a woman without him.
I’d left her happy and snuggled with Lincoln. Why couldn’t that be enough? Why couldn’t she be content sleeping with just one of us?
“Why did you leave?” Her tone was soft, the complete opposite to her demand for information.
I could have stood strong in the face of anger or defiance. Her wounded disappointment cut right through my defenses and made me want to pull her into bed with me. I still wouldn’t be able to give her what she deserved but it would be something.
Her hair hung in thick tangles, evidence of what we’d enjoyed together. She moved closer and stood only inches away from me. I could smell the remnants of our sex on her, even though I had cleaned her. That mingled with vanilla and some type of blossom made for a heady scent, one I’d like to further explore but it had been a long day. My cock stirred, and I was glad it was hidden under the blanket.
“Did Lincoln not explain?”
“He started to, but honestly, why should he be the one to explain why you dipped like I was a sleazy one-night stand you couldn’t wait to get away from?”
Was that really how she felt? “That was not what I did.”
“You gave me a kiss like you’d be right back then left without a word. I’d say you treated me like a hooker, but lucky for you, you didn’t leave money on the dresser.”
The anger was back in charge, which was a good thing, but I was reeling from what she’d said. “You were about to fall asleep. It was time for me to go.”
My excuse was hollow even to my own ears. She sat down on the bed and played with the edge of the comforter.
“It’s not that you left that bothers me, though I don’t like that either, it’s that I wasn’t worth saying goodbye to. Hell, I would have taken a ‘good night’ or ‘sweet dreams’ but you just bailed.”
In trying to avoid the uncomfortable conversation, I’d inadvertently hurt her. I pulled her into my arms, arranging her stiff body so she was lying next to me. I gave her a kiss on top of her beautiful hair because I was afraid she wouldn’t accept more.
“You matter, Zara. Never doubt that.”
“Then why did you leave?”
I was willing to share more with her than I’d ever done with another woman, but would it be enough? “What did Lincoln tell you?”
“That you don’t sleep with women because you have issues.”
No wonder she’d been pissed. “Sometimes I have nightmares. It’s not safe for anyone to be in bed with me when I’m sleeping.”
Sometimes might be an understatement but that wasn’t what was important. I was glad when she took a moment before speaking. It meant she was thinking rather than reacting.
“Something from your past?”
“Yes. From my time in the military. It’s not a pretty story.”
“Can you tell me about it?” The yearning in her voice made my chest tight.
Could I tell her about it? For so many years I’d avoided even thinking about it. Even with Lincoln, who’d been there, we just barely referenced it when we brought it up. There was nothing talking about the past that could do anything to change what had happened, so why poke at it? My brother had tried to force me to speak to him so many times it had almost destroyed our relationship.
When people asked, it felt like it would be cruel to share the pain. It was as if they were looking for some sort of vicarious thrill or had a ghoulish type of curiosity. Neither motivation stirred within me any sort of desire to open the wound that still bled in my dreams. Zara made me feel like she wanted to hear the story because she wanted to know about me more than about what happened. Was it my imagination or did she really care?
“Never mind, I’ll go.” Zara moved as if she was going to leave, and I knew if I didn’t stop her, it would break something between us that might never be fixed.
“Linc and I were members of a special reconnaissance unit in Iraq.” The words slipped out of me without a thought. I couldn’t believe I was going to talk about this, but as she settled in and snuggled against me with her head on my chest, I knew I would do anything to make her understand.
I cleared my throat and continued, “It was our job to remain unseen and relay information back to Command about situations and high-value targets. Iraq was a beautiful country with good people even if their culture was different from what we were used to. But we weren’t sent to observe the good people. Watching the casual abuse of women and children, even from a distance, without doing something was hard, but I’d come to peace with it under the bullshit excuse of the greater good.”
“It was your job.” Her gentle words held an understanding I didn’t deserve.
“Maybe, but it wasn’t right. Our last mission was to send back information on a particularly bad rebel group. They were extreme separatists that the U.S. suspected of planning terrorist acts. Their leader was supposed to be meeting with someone the higher-ups badly wanted to catch in a week, so we were supposed to observe from a distance and feed intelligence back to Command so they could swoop in and take them all out at the same time.
“As the days went on, it was obvious that something was up. He was becoming mentally unstable, accusing the women and children of being spies for the West. The beatings became brutal, and it was only a matter of time before he killed someone. Lincoln wanted to take the asshole out even if it meant missing the other guy. Unfortunately, Command disagreed.”
“What did you do?”
“Lincoln wanted to go against orders, but it was my decision and I was a good soldier. We argued, but eventually he backed off. Thing was, my gut was telling me Lincoln was right, but I was so determined to follow the rules that I ignored my instincts. Two days later, the asshole snapped and gathered up all the women and children into the center of the camp.
“We were watching the live video through cameras we’d planted around the perimeter. I didn’t expect him to kill them all, but that is what he did. In a spray of gunfire that took less than a minute, eight women and fifteen children were gone before I could even think to act.”
Zara’s nails dug into my chest as I told her of my shame. I didn’t share how the screams carried across the distance or the way the sight of fear and pain in the children’s faces was still burned into my memories.
“His men apparently didn’t expect it either, and they turned on him, but it was too late. They fled afterward, leaving all the dead where they lay.”
“That’s awful. No wonder you have nightmares.”
“Thing is, the weapon he used to kill. We sold it to him.” My throat tightened as I admitted my biggest shame.
“What?”
“It was a scheme someone came up with. We sold weapons to the little fish to draw in the bigger fish. We were supposed to get a shot at one of Iraq’s most wanted because he was going to come in to buy weapons. Instead, twenty-three innocents died and we got nothing. They died because I hesitated and followed orders.”
“No. They died because of some paranoid asshole.”
I gave Zara a gentle squeeze, knowing that, in part, her words were true, but knowing that it was an excuse I couldn’t accept. We’d gone in after we thought everyone was gone and wasn’t coming back and tried to bury them.
“When we attempted to bury them, we were attacked. We managed to escape but not without taking casualties. After that, I knew I would never follow an order I didn’t agree with, and both Lincoln and I were honorably discharged in exchange for our silence. I could get in trouble for telling you even this much.”
“I would never tell anyone. Colin, that is a horrible thing to live with, but it was not your fault.”
I kissed the top of her head in thanks for her kind words, but she was wrong. “When I dream, I’m back there but the attack and the event get mixed up. I think I’m fighting to save the kids rather than myself. I lash out and it’s hard to wake me. I won’t risk you.”
“I understand.”
It sounded like she really did.