Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
Elle
“JESSE!”
My fingertips desperately longed for his touch. I grasped the shoulder of his uniform like a life raft to keep the moment from sweeping me away. My smile spread like wildfire, ready to scorch his eyes when he turned around.
The man turned toward me and revealed a snoozing baby in his arms. A young woman stood behind him, offering me a concerned stare. It was coated in empathy.
“Sorry, ma’am, but I’m not Jesse,” a deep Southern accent smoothly replied.
Immediately, every blaze was extinguished. His words weren’t what I had expected, and neither was his face because, to my surprise, it wasn’t fucking Jesse.
What the hell?
“Oh … I’m so sorry. You look just like my boyfriend from behind. I apologize for intruding.” I tugged the neckline of my sweater upward to ensure my cleavage wasn’t reaching the wrong audience.
Am I a complete moron?
I turned to disappear and find a hiding place for my embarrassment. Heated blotches peppered my skin.
“No need for all that now. We go by last names in boot, which might help me point you in the right direction. Our ceremony today was organized by division. Do you know what division he was in?”
The man’s helpful response shocked me because it interrupted the long-awaited reunion he had been sharing with his family. If anyone could understand its significance, it was me.
“I’m Trafalgar, by the way. Jimmy Trafalgar.”
“He was in Division 28. Jesse Jenkins. You know him?” I asked, turning back to face him.
My tone was desperate, but so was his downturned grimace when the name reached his ear.
Jimmy definitely knew Jesse.
“I was in 28 also. I knew Jenkins …” Jimmy glanced back at his wife.
“Knew him?”
“Yeah, he, uh … he got rolled back and moved to another division after the incident,” he said.
Jimmy’s eyes never met mine. His crow’s-feet tightened, shifting from caring to something unfamiliar.
Something wasn’t right.
Jesse never mentioned any incident in his letters, and his division never changed. The return address had clearly indicated Division 28 on every envelope I got from him. Jesse would have told me about whatever “incident” this dude was referring to. Right?
“What does rolled back mean? And what incident are you talking about?” The questions spewed from my lips, making me sound jealous that Jimmy knew more about Jesse than I seemed to.
I was.
“Rolled back means a recruit’s graduation date changes for some reason. Depending on the situation, they stay here longer than expected … sometimes indefinitely. Did an instructor notify you of the delay?” The young father’s eyes dropped to the floor.
“Delay? What delay? Oh my God, is he hurt or something? Please, I need to know what’s going on here!” I shouted.
No one had notified me of a delay because if they had, I sure as fuck wouldn’t have saved every dime I’d stashed away to get here.
“He never mentioned anything to you?”
Silent secrets begged to be freed from his tongue. I could see it.
I felt it.
“No. He mentioned a lot in his letters, but never anything about getting rolled back or an incident. I need to know if he’s hurt. Is he okay? Please … I—”
Jimmy’s response cut me off. “He’s fine, ma’am. He isn’t hurt. He got into some trouble a while back, and they separated him from our division. I saw him in the chow hall on occasion. He sat alone and didn’t talk to anyone after it happened …”
“After what happened?! I need to know!” My frustration grew like a weed fertilized with liquid fear. Fear that ran down both sides of my forehead.
I looked around.
Was I trapped in an episode of a bad hidden-camera show?
“It’s not for me to say. You should hear it from him. I’m sorry, but that’s all I know. Bro code and all that.”
Jimmy’s sharp words shattered the final pillar of my remaining faith.
Screw bro code and screw Jimmy. Why did he get to decide what I deserved to know?
I couldn’t find the manners to thank him, nor did I want to.
I turned away from him, using every ounce of my remaining strength to stumble back to the bleachers and take a seat. I gripped the surface, attempting to steady myself as my vision blurred with panic and tears.
Where are you, Jesse? I thought. What happened here?
The scene before me played in slow motion as a thousand useless thoughts danced together through my skull.
So many questions needed answering. Unfortunately, nothing I already knew could answer them.
My attempt to slow my breathing was met with shorter, quicker breaths that left me feeling unstable and lightheaded.
I had been told Jesse was safe, which calmed me enough to function, but where was he now?
On base? Could I see him? Why hadn’t he mentioned it in his letters?
Why did he sit alone in the chow hall and stop talking to the others?
That sounded nothing like the outgoing Jesse I loved.
Had boot camp broken his spirit? Was it worse than he’d expected it to be? Worse than he let on in his letters?
A new countdown had begun. A countdown to the truth.
Only this time, there was no end date, expectations, or guidelines to rely on for reassurance.
Anger overthrew my overwhelm. How could he do this to me? How could he keep writing to me like we were perfect and allow me to show up, knowing I wouldn’t find him?
As if cemented in place, my limbs flushed with hurt that could only be soothed by finding answers. I peered around, knowing I’d have to wait until the chaotic auditorium cleared to start looking for them.
My instinct was to text Ruthie while I waited, but I needed to stop and think before making my next move. How could I process something when I didn’t know what I was processing? How could I explain it to my best friend when I couldn’t even explain it to myself?
Twenty agonizing minutes of solo spiraling later, the crowd evaporated.
The higher-ups must’ve blended into the funneled crowd because the only person left on my radar was a janitor. The squeak of his wet mop dragging across the floor was the perfect soundtrack to accompany my shitty situation.
I straightened. Sitting on my ass would get me nowhere. If I wanted answers, I’d have to find them. Or at least someone who could point me in the right direction. I lowered my chin and scanned the space around my seat, ensuring nothing was left behind.
Before I could look up, two reflective dress shoes stepped into my view.
“Jesus,” I shouted, jumpy. Their sudden appearance startled me. My face lifted to meet whoever was about to ask why I was still around.
I might as well have looked straight to the ceiling. The base of my skull sank into my upper back—the only way to accommodate the man’s height. Thankfully, it wasn’t stressed for long.
He quickly knelt before me, meeting me at eye level. Although he was a bigger man, his stance remained nonthreatening, even as it stretched well within my personal space.
“Ms. Elle Madelyn?” His voice was deep.
His right brow angled slightly in question. Evergreen eyes magnetized to mine.
I remembered exactly where I had first seen them.
“Do I know you?” I lied through my teeth. I knew I did.
He was the recruiter who had helped Jesse with his paperwork that fateful day two years ago.
So, this is where his promotion took him. And he remembers my name?
“I believe we both know the answer to that.” His grin remained frozen, iced to his sharp, clean-shaven face.
His white dress uniform gave him more authority than the depth of his response.
He was much more intimidating than I remembered.
“I go by Chief Carterson these days. Can you come with me, please?” He launched his large, clean, callous hand toward me.
“Do you know where Jesse is?” I jumped at the opportunity to ask.
He held rank, based on the collection of pins and stripes fastened to his uniform. Rank was exactly what I needed to find Jesse.
“We can discuss this further in my office. Due to confidentiality, I can’t discuss it here,” Chief Carterson said.
He tilted his head toward the janitor, who sluggishly dragged his supply cart across the floor.
Apparently, even one person overhearing us would be a breach. “It isn’t far,” he urged again.
The formality in his tone intrigued me. He knew more than he could say. I needed to hear it all. It didn’t matter that mascara-tinted teardrops stained my sweater or that my composure was completely depleted. Nothing could stop me from learning more.
Five minutes later, I approached a door with a keypad lock at the handle, following the man with the name Carterson stitched into the right breast of his uniform.
What’s his first name again?
I racked my brain, but it was far too muddied with recent trauma to recall a name I’d first heard so long ago. If I remembered anything about him, it wasn’t his name.
It was pretty much everything else.
A beep-beep-beep-beeeeep sprang the door open after he entered a green-lit code on the pin pad. Chief Carterson held the door open, inviting me to enter the impressive office before he did.
Accolades lined the walls. The remaining spaces were filled with a bookshelf, filing cabinets, and multiple computer monitors spread across a wide desk.
I noticed a framed black-and-white photo of a dapper-looking couple on their wedding day, along with various wood-carved knickknacks that kept the picture company.
The space was professional with plenty of character—much different than the cubicle he worked from on campus.
“Please, take a seat.” He ushered me toward the spare chair next to the larger leather one, tucked under his desk, and pulled it out for me.
I obeyed.
“Can you tell me where Jesse is now?”
My patience was thinner than his shallow breaths as he sat in the seat beside mine. A man I barely knew had fetched me from the auditorium and was about to feed me confidential information on Jesse’s whereabouts.
What could possibly go wrong?