Beloved (37 page)

I refuse to move from the door. If he leaves, I’ll never get him back. I can’t lose him. My pulse is racing, but I stand strong. I have to do something to make him see me.

“Jackson, I love you! Give
us
a chance,” I beg him, praying he’ll listen to me.

His arms wrap around me, dispelling my fears and the breath I was holding. With my eyes closed, I take this moment, finding the tiniest bit of relief in it. He didn’t leave. I told him I loved him and he’s here, enveloping me in his warmth. I could stay in his arms forever. I feel his lips press against my forehead. When I look up into his eyes, hoping to see him recovered, the color drains from my face. There’s no love or recovery there, just determination. It rolls off him like thunder.

“No …” The strangled sound of my voice doesn’t register.

Jackson’s hold disappears along with my hope. With each step he takes, the floor falls a little further down, and my heart follows. He doesn’t stop or look back.

No.

His hand touches the handle and my breath hitches.

Please don’t do this.

I want to tell him, but the words won’t come out!

Dammit, Jackson, stop!

“Jackson.” I say his name like a prayer.

He stops but doesn’t turn as his hands clench the door jam. “You said I shouldn’t run.” The pain lances through me, fueling my anger to flames. “You lied to me! You’re doing what you promised you wouldn’t—leave.” Still he says nothing, so I step toward him. “Fine. Be a coward! Go! Walk away just like they all do.”

His hands drop but he doesn’t turn. Shoulders slumped, defeated, broken—he’s not the man I know. Jackson is strong, a fighter, loyal, and I’m desperate to get him back.

“Coward? I’m fucking saving you. The only thing I’m afraid of is losing you.”

“I can’t do this again, Jackson. Please don’t walk out that door after I’ve told you how I feel.”

I watch his head shake from side to side and everything inside me rattles. Jackson remains in the door with his back to me, his voice quiet and strained. “I can’t lose you like that. I’d rather walk away.”

Anger that was simmering beneath the hurt is starting to boil. How dare he do this? He comes here, fucks me, tells me not to run, and then he’s going to do exactly that? I’m pissed. I’m talking volcano erupting, fire burning, hulk smashing kind of pissed the fuck off.

“You’re going to listen to me, goddamnit. Four days ago, when we went into that lawyer’s office, I was falling apart. Everything in my life felt out of control. It was
you
who held me together. I drew on your strength to get through that fucking day from hell.” I close my eyes, remembering what came after that. “But after everything else, I was terrified. You could hurt me so much. I was falling in love with you weeks ago, but that day I saw it all vanish. I ran because I was so afraid you’d let me go. I thought if I pushed you away before you got rid of me, it would be better. But it wasn’t!”

Jackson turns and looks at me, the battle still raging inside him. “I’m not running, Catherine. Aaron is dead. I’m going to collect his fucking body and deliver it to his pregnant wife. Guess whose fault it is again? I give up trying to fight a war I’ll never win.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He goes stone-cold, every muscle rigid and tense. The blue-green eyes I love are black and glossy. “Try telling Natalie that. I leave tonight for Afghanistan to get his body and bring it home. I’m done arguing with you. I’m just … done.”

If I don’t get this out now, I’ll find a reason to hold back. I’m trembling from adrenaline as well as the fear of him walking out this door.

“I’m ready to fight for you. For so long I thought it wasn’t my choice if things worked or not with any man. But with you—it’s different. You told me I was it for you. Well, same here. I love you.” I look into his eyes, completely vulnerable. No walls, nothing to hide my emotions. I’m giving him the truth with everything I am. “So you choose, Jackson. You tell me now if you want me to walk away. You walked through my door today. It’s up to you to keep it open. I’m not talking about going to do what you have to do. Please, don’t close the door on us.”

The silence surrounds us, giving me the answer I was dreading. I drop my head while I struggle to keep the tears in check. When I feel his hand on my chin, my heart sputters. Once I look up, I’ll have to face the truth. My gaze drifts as my chin glides toward his eyes. His face gives nothing away. My emotions are like a dam about to break.

“Say something, dammit!” I yell with tears in my eyes.

Jackson’s hand drops from my face, leaving me bereft. “I’ve said it all already. You’re not listening.”

“That’s your answer?” I ask, defeated.

He looks up, shaking his head, then exhales. “Everyone I love or care about dies. I’m protecting you.”

“No. You’re protecting yourself. People die, Jackson. It’s tragic, but it happens.”

His fingers sweep the hair off my face, lingering in my hair. “You know that night we met in the restaurant? It was so intense. I’d never felt so connected to someone so quickly. You walked away. Then, by some miracle …” Jackson’s hands cup my face. He takes a moment with his eyes closed. “You found your way back. I won’t allow anything to hurt you. Including me.” Releasing a heavy sigh, he drops his hands.

“The only thing hurting me is you leaving.”

“I don’t have a choice.” He grips the back of his neck and looks at the ceiling.

There has to be a way. If I can keep him talking, maybe he won’t go. “Of course you have a choice! Please. I’m begging you. Stay tonight, fly out tomorrow—please stay with me. We can figure this out. You’re too upset to drive or be alone. I want to be here for you, but you’re pushing me away.”

Jackson stares at the window, unwilling to look at me. “The plane leaves tonight.”

If he has to leave because he needs to deal with whatever is going on, fine. But he’s leaving and planning to end things. If he walks out the door, I fear it’s truly the end.

“I won’t give up on us. I know you’re hurting and I understand you have to handle this situation, but you can lean on me. Let me carry some of your burden.
Talk
to me, Jackson. Let me in.”

Our eyes meet for a moment before his lips crush against mine. I’d give everything up right now if he’d keep me in his embrace. His tongue demands entrance and my lips part, allowing him access. Every organ clenches as he pours himself into the kiss. I give him everything right back. All the love in my heart, my body, I offer him at this moment.

Needing an answer, I break the kiss. My heart is pounding so loud I’d swear he could hear it. I take a deep breath. “Don’t kiss me if you’re going to break my heart.”

He looks at me with a mix of fear and regret. Then he closes his eyes and whispers, “Good-bye, Catherine.” Jackson walks out the door without a backward glance.

I stand there, waiting to wake up from this nightmare. Surely that didn’t happen. I’m asleep—that has to be it. I’m at my kitchen table with the papers strewn everywhere because
that
did not happen. Only it did. I look around my apartment, at the hole in the wall where Jackson punched it in anger. The door he walked through is still open, waiting for him to walk back through. I stare at the space he walked away from. It seems to be growing smaller, shrinking into itself as time does the same. He doesn’t return. The thunder booms outside, snapping me from my haze. The tempest within becomes a hurricane.

He’s gone.

He walked out on me after he promised he wouldn’t. My heart splinters like glass on the ground—jagged and raw and ready to cut with all its sharp edges. I knew this was going to happen eventually—I’d hoped not to fall, but I guess it’s too late for that now. I’ve crested the mountain only to fall down the other side, and no one is going to catch me.

~Seven days later-Afghanistan~

“Fuck. I didn’t miss this shithole!” I glance over at Mark, who’s looking out at the village on the left, checking for anything out of the norm.

“Need to clean the sand out of your vag, Muff? Does Kitty know you’re this big of a pussy?” Mark taunts like the douchebag he is.

I scoff at his sorry attempt at a jab. “Kiss my ass. Try not to sparkle too much while we’re here. You might draw some hijab attention.” I give him the finger and he starts laughing. “Also, don’t talk about Catherine.”

“Touchy. Have you told her yet?”

“No,” I say with no room for further discussion. He’s already told me I need to tell her about my past, but I wasn’t going to drop that shit on her lap and rush off to deal with the mess here.

Mark and I didn’t speak for the first leg of the trip, both of us dealing with the loss of yet another member of our team. This shit is fucking with both of us. We started with six—and then there were two. When you’re active duty, you know your time is numbered. Once you’re out, though, that’s not how you think anymore.

I look to the left, take a deep breath, and regret doing that immediately. The Humvee smells like shit, but we’ve been traveling for five long ass days, so we aren’t any better. We flew into Spain and waited there for two days. Rota reminded me of the trouble we got in during the last deployment here. It was a fucking joke. We drank, ate, drank some more, and worked out. Made bank and went home.

Then we flew into Dubai for another two days. At least in Dubai there’s a ton of shit to do. Of course, it was only supposed to be a five-hour layover, but when you’re flying on Navy equipment, you expect the unexpected. Which is a nice way of saying prepare for that shit to break.

Since we’ve hit the sandbox, it’s been nothing but constant bullshit. Our convoy never met us at the base we flew into. I had to call a bunch of old friends to get someone to come get us, then take us to Camp Victory so we could claim Aaron’s body. Normally that’s not how it works, but I don’t give a fuck. He’s our brother and we weren’t leaving him to fly alone. Mark had to pull a few strings to get it done, but he felt the same way. We owed Natalie that much.

Now we’re heading to the IED site. Another favor I cashed in. Whatever. At this rate, I just want to get some damn answers on how they fucked this up.

“By the way, asshat, this doesn’t count as my vacation,” Mark lets me know through the mics on our helmets.

I adjust my Kevlar so I can breathe. This shit didn’t get any lighter. We’re fully loaded and tacked out. “You said you wanted the sun and the sand. I delivered.”

“Funny.” He laughs.

We approach the site and my guard instantly goes up. I slip right back into battle mode.

I get out first.

“Hey, Muff, watch your six,” Mark says seriously. We’ve done enough missions together to know when the tone changes, it means something’s not right. “I have a bad feeling about the mountains up on the left,” Mark says, pointing to the rocky terrain.

“Yeah, I have a bad feeling about this whole fucking place. Cover me.”

I hear the door close behind me. The debris is cleared for the most part. Considering we’re a week behind, a lot of the intel I could’ve gotten is pretty much gone, but you never know. I’ve seen insurgents sing like canaries for a soda. Everyone has a price and today, I’m the banker.

I scan the area. So far there’s a few kids playing soccer and a woman standing by the fence, talking to another child. Ahead of me I see what looks like some pieces of the explosion. I lean down right as a ball comes flying in front of my face. The kids are laughing at the almost collision. I grab the ball and smile—I’ve just found my bargaining chip.

I crouch low to the ground and sling my gun onto my back. Probably not the smartest move, but I need the kids to come close. Plus, Mark’s behind me along with the other two guys we grabbed when we rolled out. “Want the ball?” I ask, holding it out.

The two kids nod and walk over.

This might be too easy.

I hold the ball out and the little girl gives me a huge smile. She’s cute as hell. I place the ball between us and pull it back. She giggles and reaches out. We do this four times before I hand it over. “Do you speak English?”

We didn’t bring a translator with us, so I’m on my own. We may have to draw pictures in the dirt.