Hallowed Ground (19 page)

We stayed until he was at rest, and I prayed that he knew more peace in the next life than he had in this one.

Chapter Twenty-One

Josh

The front gate to the cemetery was closed at 0600, so I drove around to the back, where I’d seen a small opening in the gate yesterday. The parking lot was mostly empty, except for the spots closest to the Starbucks on the far side.

I parked our rental next to another white sedan, whose owner had obviously had the same thought, and walked toward the back of the cemetery, cursing the still-tender wound in my leg. Ember was going to be pissed if she woke up and found I’d driven the car, let alone left her without a note. But she’d looked so peaceful, and she’d been getting about as much sleep as I had lately, which meant none. If I wasn’t waking her up with nightmares, then I was usually making love to her, taking respite in those small moments where she was all that existed to me. But I’d woken up an hour ago and snuck out like a teenager past curfew and drove around the post, simply elated in the power of being behind the wheel of a car again. I’d gravitated here naturally after a while.

The light morning fog had an eerie effect as I took the small, worn path between the hedges and the gate post. It felt different here this morning than it had yesterday. Yesterday, this place contained all the grief in the world, the voices of those silenced too young. This morning, it felt quiet, peaceful.

I turned to the left and walked among the newer stones, reading some of the names to myself as I hobbled by. Too young. They were all too damn young. Michael Adams was only twenty-four, just like Will.

I continued the path until I came upon Will’s grave and stopped in my tracks. Standing there, a sweater wrapped around her from the morning chill, was Paisley. I started to retreat, but the gravel crunched under my feet and she turned.
Fuck.

“Josh?” she called out.

I half waved and headed over, the wet grass immediately soaking my running shoes. “Hey, Paisley.”

She gave me a small smile, her eyes swollen to nearly unrecognizable proportions. “I didn’t want to leave without spending a little more time here.”

“Yeah. I wanted to take a couple of minutes, too.”

“Did you want to be alone? I can go for a walk.”

I shook my head. “No, you don’t have to leave. I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake Ember.”

She laughed, pathetic as it sounded. “Jagger’s still knocked out. He’ll only take the pain meds at night, now.”

I’d never wanted to run away from someone so badly, like the joggers who were sporadically making their way through the cemetery as we stood there. Then again, this leg was barely supporting me to stand, let alone run.

“Why are you avoiding me?” she asked, looking up at me with raised eyebrows.

“What? I’m not.” I bold-faced lied to my best friend’s wife.

She made a
pfft
sound. “Sure you are. You wouldn’t see me in Germany. You only come over at home when I’m gone, like you watch the window for my car to pull out—”

“I do not.”
You do.

“—or something, and yes, you do. The first time I saw you face-to-face was at the funeral yesterday. Now you’d better tell me what I did to irk you, Josh. Whatever it is, I preemptively apologize.”

I shook my head. “Of course you would think it’s your fault.”

“It’s not?”

More runners crunched their way down the gravel path behind us.

“No.” I looked down at the freshly placed grass seeds that would grow over Will from now on. “I killed him.” It was the faintest whisper, but she heard it.

“You did not kill him. He died at war. This is not your fault.”

“How can you, of all people, say that? You loved him more than any of us. How can you not realize that I basically traded his life for Jagger’s, and then again for mine?”

She tilted her head. “You knew it was Jagger when he went down. You went in for him, like any medevac crew would have, friend or not. Will agreed to the extraction, right? He didn’t say, ‘no,’ or, ‘hey guys, this isn’t a good idea,’ right? He went in with both guns blazing because that was his mission. You did not force him into that valley, Josh.”

There was no blame in her eyes, only absolution, understanding—no forgiveness, because she honestly didn’t think I’d done anything wrong. “There’s more.”

“Okay, tell me.”

I wavered for a second but pushed ahead.

“After the first deployment, I had this one-bullet policy. I wasn’t going to let myself be taken alive. Ever.”

“Josh,” she whispered, lightly touching my arm.

“During the firefight, Rizzo was working on keeping Jagger alive. It was mostly just Will and I, and when this guy came around the back…I had Ember’s voice in my head, begging me to come home. So I made this split-second decision and fired two bullets into his chest. I used all of my ammo, didn’t save the last bullet.”

She didn’t shy away, simply held my gaze in a way that was neither comforting nor threatening. She just listened.

“When the next guy came around, I was out. Will saw him first and shoved me to the ground, taking him out. He saved my life.”

“Sounds like Will,” she said.

I nodded and forced myself through the hesitation over the next part. “He was standing over me, reaching for my hand to pull me up when the shots were fired.”

Her eyes closed, twin tears tracking her cheeks.

“Damn. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“Finish. Please, Josh. I want to know. I need to know.”

“I couldn’t even tell Jagger. Will fell on top of me, shielding me as he took two more rounds. I managed to get his weapon as the firefight ended. Reinforcements showed up, but Will…he bled out before they could get him to the medevac.”

“That’s exactly what he would have wanted, Josh,” she said, more tears falling. She swiped them away. “Don’t mind me. I’m a pregnant, hormonal mess over here.”

“You lost your best friend.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, and her breath was ragged for a second. “I did.”

“If I had just saved that last bullet, if he hadn’t pushed me down to start with…”

“If Jagger hadn’t been there,” she countered. “If those troops hadn’t come in contact. If your copilot hadn’t been killed. Josh, there are so many what-if’s, and any one of them could have changed the outcome. Maybe Will would be alive. Maybe you’d be dead, and Ember and I would be standing over your grave instead. Would you want to put her through that?”

I shook my head, the image already firmly planted there. “No.”

“If you hadn’t gone in, if Will hadn’t been there to pull you out, to climb the helicopter, and kick in the glass, Jagger would have died. There was no way you were kicking through that glass with your leg, and your medic would have been in too many places at once.”

“I’m just so sorry,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’m so sorry for what I put you through. I can’t even say that if I’d known, I would have chosen differently. It was Jagger.”

She took both of my hands in her smaller ones. “Josh. You were exactly where you were meant to be. You saved Jagger. Will saved Jagger, and then he saved you, the overachiever that he is…was. If I had a choice to make, I would have chosen Jagger, too. There’s no shame in that, not when he’s my husband, the father of our unborn son. I do not blame you for what happened, because you were supposed to be there. Will was supposed to be there, and if you take a second to look around, you’ll see that now Will is exactly where
he
is meant to be.” She pointed to the row in front of us, to the stone that sat directly in line with where Will’s would be. “Do you understand now? He’s with Peyton.”

I made out Peyton’s name carved into the simple, white stone and felt a piece of my soul slide home, making the puzzle one piece closer to whole. “Peyton.”

Peyton.
Her name played through my mind, spoken in Will’s voice as a blood-muffled gurgle.

She nodded, a smile lighting her features. “He never stopped loving her. Not ever. Jagger is my person. Ember is yours. Peyton was his. He could have lived longer, gotten married, had kids, but no love would ever compare to what he felt for Peyton. You didn’t get him killed, Josh. He was just called home to the woman who was too stubborn to reciprocate that love in life because she was scared to lose her best friend.” She shrugged. “I like to think that now they have a chance to be happy.”

She wrapped her slight arms around me. “I love you, and I understand. There is nothing to forgive, Josh. This—” She pointed to the ground where Will laid. “This was never in your hands.” She looked toward the sky and then behind us. “Hey, you. Good run?” she asked.

I turned to find Ember standing close behind us, dressed in running clothes, her eyes bright with unshed tears that she tried to smile away. She failed. “Yeah,” she answered, walking to Paisley’s other side.

Fuck.
How much had she heard? I felt a tearing, a rending of sorts in my heart, but couldn’t figure out why.

“This place is perfect for them, isn’t it?” Paisley asked.

“Hallowed ground,” Ember whispered.

“It is,” Paisley agreed. “I should get back to Jagger before he wakes up. See you guys at takeoff?”

“T-minus four hours,” Ember answered with a smile. They hugged good-bye and Paisley left, the gravel crunching under her feet as she headed back toward the gate.

“December,” I said, reaching for her. She sidestepped me and popped one of her earbuds back in.

“I’m going to finish my run. I’ll see you back at the hotel?”

“I have the car. We could grab Starbucks over there,” I offered, throwing out the one thing she could never resist—coffee.

“No thanks.”

Alarm bells sounded in my head.

She walked past me, just out of my reach. “Ember, what’s wrong? What’s happening here? Is it because of what you heard?” I was thankful that she knew, as much as I hated it.

“What I heard? No. God, Josh. Weeks. Not once have you…” She shook her head and backed away. “I’ve been trying so hard to get through to you, for you to open up to me. You know what? I’m glad you found someone to talk to. I guess I just foolishly thought that it would be me. I’ll be fine. Just give me…a run.” She shrugged, her face crumpling, and darted off before I could say or do anything.

A month ago I would have chased her, swept her into my arms, and fixed my fuck-up. A month ago, I hadn’t been broken, physically unable to run or pick up the woman I was soul-wrenchingly in love with, because my body had been whole. A month ago I hadn’t crashed my helicopter and killed more people than I wanted to think about…including two of my friends. A month ago I was a different man.

A month ago, I never would have let her go.

But this me? Yeah, well, maybe she was better off running.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ember

I held the steaming white mocha in front of me with both hands, savoring the way it warmed my skin to nearly burning but not quite. It hovered just along the line of comfortable—kind of like how I stood with Josh right now.

We’d been home from New York for three days, tiptoeing around each other. That was one thing about moving in together; when we fought before, we could just hang up, cool off, and talk later. Now, we did this awkward dance around the refrigerator and pretended things were semi-okay.

“Have you looked into plane tickets? They’re ridiculously expensive,” Luke said, thumbing through his dig packet at the table in front of me.

“No,” I answered, my own packet untouched.

Could I even go?

“Well, you’d better start looking. We report in two months.” He sipped his latte, looking at me over the brim as I spun my ring with my thumb. “Okay, what the hell is wrong with you, Red?”

“What? Nothing. Shitty few weeks.”

He nodded. “How is Flyboy adjusting to being home?”

I took another sip, using the time to construct my answer. “He’s okay. Struggling, but that’s not really a surprise, right? He was almost killed. His friends were killed. There’s going to be some residual damage there.”

“Okay, well, how are
you
adjusting?”

My eyes flew to his. “No one’s really asked me that.”

“Why the hell not? Your fiancée was almost killed. Your friend
was
killed. You’re on nurse duty twenty-four seven, and the only reason I even snagged twenty minutes of your time is because I drove all the way up here from Nashville while Flyboy is at physical therapy.”

I sat, stunned for a few seconds. “Because Josh is hurt. I’m fine.”

“Apparently.” He rolled his eyes.

“What? I am. I’m just thankful he’s alive. That’s all that matters.” Wanting more than that made me selfish, self-absorbed. Josh’s healing, including when he was ready to talk, was all about him and his timeline. “I stupidly pushed him to talk,” I admitted.

“And…”

“And I feel like he talks to everyone but me.”

“Your other friends having the same trouble?”

I shook my head and picked at the Starbucks sticker on the cup. “Paisley and Jagger are big on open communication. Grayson and Sam, too. Maybe we’re the only dysfunctional ones.”

“Therapist, maybe? Couldn’t hurt.”

“Yeah, because Josh is going to sign up for a therapist. He already shot that idea down. At least he has to go for a psych screening this week, and that’s just so it checks the box for his up-slip.”

“He wants to get back to flying already?”

“Yep. I guess it’s a get-back-on-the-horse thing.”

He nudged my packet toward me. “And what about your own horse? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t even looked at the information.”

“Timing sucks now,” I said in a voice that was weak to my own ears.

“Ember. You chose to go for your PhD. Remember? Studying for the GREs? Applying to the dig? Tell me you’re not going to let that all go.”

“I… Everything is a jumble right now.”

He nodded and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his pale blue polo. “This is the one year they’re letting PhD students for anthropology start in the spring, and that’s only because the dig is school-sponsored. If you don’t go, I’m not sure you’ll be able to get in this year. You’ll have to wait.”

“I can’t just leave him. Not when he’s hurt.”

Luke gave an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, well, at least take the packet and keep thinking on it. Selfishly, I’d love to have you there with me.”

“I know. I want to go, Luke.” Just the idea made my fingers tingle at the possibility of unearthing new relics, new art, new pieces of history from a civilization long-since dead. But leaving Josh in two months? His body was healing quickly, too quickly for my comfort, really, but his mind? Could I leave him for two months? “But there’s nothing I won’t give up for Josh. We’ve been through too much together for me to not put him first right now.”

“I respect that, I do. You two have this epic kind of love. Got it. But just remember, it’s your future, too.”

He was right, but what kind of future had me leaving Josh at a time like this?

“It stopped being just my future a long time ago, Luke. It’s us, now. Josh and me against the world—that’s what we’ve always said.”

“And does he see it that way?” he asked. My eyes narrowed, and he threw his hands up, palms out like he was under arrest. “Hey, I’m trying to help, I swear.”

“Of course he sees it that way. Josh is the least selfish person I know. He’s always put me first. He’s always been whatever I needed no matter what it costs him. I’m just trying to be the same for him.”

His expression softened, as did his voice. “Look, I’m just saying that if he’s shutting you out, it’s because he’s either scared of what he’s not telling you…”

“Or?”

“Or maybe he’s trying to push you away.”

The taste of coffee went sour in my mouth. “He wouldn’t.”

“Even if he thinks he’s not what’s best for you?”

Well, shit.

“Trash is out.”

Josh walked unsteadily into the kitchen as I popped cinnamon rolls into the oven the next morning. “Thanks, babe,” I said, my forehead puckering, “but I could have done that. You need to sit.”

He shook his head and smiled at me. “I didn’t want us to miss pickup, and besides, PT said I could walk on it yesterday.”

I snorted. “She said you could get off crutches but you had to take it easy.”

“The kitchen is easy.”

“The couch is easier.” I motioned to the living room with my head. “Save up your strength for Arizona, since we leave in ten days.”

“Only if you come sit with me.” He stepped forward, pinning me against the counter.

“You’re making it difficult for me to move.” A smile crept into my voice as I looked up at him. God I loved him, so much that my heart ached, stretched to max capacity. I’d taken what Luke said to heart yesterday, ignored the sting in my soul that Josh had confided in Jagger and Paisley but not me, and focused on proving to him that I wasn’t going anywhere.

Everything else could come in time.

“Maybe I like where I have you.” His smile was blinding, his eyes clear of shadows, as if my Josh was shining out from behind his war-ravaged exterior.

“Maybe I like being here,” I said, my hands slipping beneath his Under Armour T-shirt. I barely suppressed a groan at the feel of his abs beneath my fingers. Even after everything he’d been through, the man had a body that needed to be molded, sculpted, adored by the public…or maybe just me.

His eyes darkened. “December,” he whispered. He hadn’t touched me since West Point, and after nearly five days, we both radiated some pretty intense sexual tension.

My lips tingled and parted, my body recognizing its match and becoming hyperaware. His hand left the counter and shifted to my waist, squeezing lightly. I ran my nails down the skin of his stomach, and he sucked in his breath through clenched teeth. I loved that sound. I loved all of this really, the anticipation, reveling in the fact that this man was mine in every sense of the word.

My fingers traced the soft elastic of his board shorts, then dipped past the waistline and tugged, bringing him flush against my stomach. He was already hardening for me. I ran my thumb down his length and was rewarded by a low moan. Standing on my tiptoes, I brushed my lips against the stubble on his jaw. “What’s on your mind?”

“You,” he answered. “Thinking about the first time I had you pushed up against a kitchen counter.”

“Breckenridge,” I whispered.

“It’s the pajamas,” he said, his hand cupping my ass through the flannel.

“Hey, you said movie marathon. I vetoed pants.”

“Oh, babe, I am most definitely not complaining.” He looked down at me, two little lines appearing between his eyebrows.

“What?”

“There was a little something different,” he muttered, then lifted me with one hand and deposited me onto the counter. “That’s right.”

“Josh! You’ll hurt yourself.” I fought back a small laugh.

“Worth it to see that smile.”

“Now all we need is tequila, and we’re good to go. I think that may have eased my way into snagging you.”

He shook his head slowly. “The tequila wasn’t necessary. I was already intoxicated by you.”

Well, if my panties weren’t ready to drop before, they were now. “So you wanted to kiss me?” At this height, I had perfect access to his neck, and I took it. He smelled delectable, straight out of the shower, and tasted just as good as my tongue ran along the sensitive patch of skin just beneath his ear.

His hand shifted to my hair, his fingers tunneling through the mass to hold me to him. “Fuck yes. It was the first thing I thought of when I picked you up that night. Kissing you had been on my list of life goals since high school, right up there with the other things I’d never get to do like snorkel in Bora Bora, or race my Ducati again.” He tugged gently, pulling me back so he could look into my eyes. “You are a flesh-and-bone wet dream, and you owned me the first fucking moment my mouth touched yours.”

“And now?” My eyes dropped to his lips. “How does the reality compare two and a half years later?”

“So much better.” He brushed his mouth over my cheek, feathering a kiss to my ear. “If I had known just how sweet you’d taste, how perfectly you’d fit against me with your legs around my hips, how incredible it would be to sink inside you, hear my name on your lips…your dad would have come after me with a shotgun in high school, because I would have chased you, freshman or not.”

“I would have let you catch me, especially if I’d known this was where we’d end up.” I locked my ankles behind his back, bringing him even closer against me.

A wicked smile flashed across his gorgeous face. “Oh, I knew it. Why do you think I stayed away? I was bad enough news for you then, I’m not sure I would have had the decency to say no if you’d asked me to touch you.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I looked into his eyes, nearly losing myself in their depth. “Touch me now.”

He didn’t pause, just launched into a kiss that curled my toes. My thighs tightened around his waist as his tongue consumed my mouth, tangling with mine. It was open, hot, carnal, and by the time he pulled away, his breathing was heavy, and I was ready to wish away my pants, and his.

“You get better every time, and if you keep it up, I’ll be dead by the time I’m fifty.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” I teased and pulled him down for another kiss, arching against him. Damn, his kisses were addictive. I took another, and then another, until my hips started rocking against his, and he groaned.

He wrapped his casted arm around my back while his hand caressed the skin of my hip just under the waistline of my pajama pants. A wave of desire hit me, turning my blood to lava as he put his mouth to my breast over my shirt, tugging lightly on my nipple through the material.
Thank God for braless days.
“More,” I demanded.

He chuckled, and then sent his hand into my panties. My hips bucked when he grazed my clit.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet already.”

I made some kind of mewing sound in answer as he plunged deeper.

A beep sounded outside, breaking through the haze of lust he had me wrapped in, followed by the sound of rushing air of pistons releasing.

“Down!” Josh yelled, sweeping me from the counter.

We crashed to the floor, my head bouncing against the fiberglass of his cast as he tried to cradle me, my hip taking the brunt of my fall. He caught my top half, landing on me, and immediately blocking out the daylight.

He’d covered me head to toe, his arms bracketing my head as I lay there underneath him. Our breathing was heavy, coming in short bursts. I couldn’t get enough air with his weight on me. My heart crashed against my chest, hammering a rhythm of confusion and fear.

“Josh?” I asked, slowly raising my arms to his back. He sucked in ragged breaths, and I stroked up and down his rib cage. “Baby, it’s okay,” I whispered.

He picked his head up, his eyes scanning my features in a panic before flinging himself off me. His back crashed against the cabinet, and I sat up slowly as he pulled his knees forward, resting his elbows on them. “Are you okay?” he asked, barely meeting my gaze.

My hip throbbed, but the rest of me seemed no worse for wear. “I’m perfectly fine.” I slid over to him, slowly lifting my hands to his arms and moving to his face when he didn’t flinch away. “It was the garbage truck.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“What did it sound like to you?”
Where did you go?

“An RPG.” His eyes squeezed shut. “The pistons…”

The throbbing in my hip moved to my heart, where another piece broke for him. “Okay,” I said as I stroked his cheeks.

His eyes shot to mine, wide with incredulousness. “This isn’t okay. I basically threw you off the kitchen counter.”

“Well, at least I know that if we’re ever in danger, you’d shield me.” I forced a smile. “You could have just left me up there to fend for myself, and then we’d really have problems.”

He huffed, then laughed.
Mission accomplished.
“God, I’m so sorry. That sound… I just reacted.”

“I don’t blame you.” I held my breath and tiptoed across a line I’d never been allowed to before. “After the first deployment, did you talk to anyone? After you were wounded?”

He shook his head. “I did the mandatory psych eval, but no. I was fine in their eyes, so I didn’t need to.”

I couldn’t help but wonder how much more was buried under his surface, left lurking like some forgotten powder keg just waiting to ignite with the right flame. Hell, Josh’s whole world was in flames.

Except me.

“I think you should talk to someone,” I said quietly.

He shook his head. “If this is about me talking to Paisley…”

“It’s not,” I promised. “That’s a whole different can of worms, and until you’re ready to open it, I’ll try to be respectful. While we’re on that subject, I’m sorry for the way I reacted in New York. That was a lot of shock, and more than a ridiculous level of jealousy. What’s going on in your head is your business, and I don’t have a right to pry. If talking to Paisley, or Jagger, or the random guy at the gym makes you feel better, then you should take advantage of it. I only want what’s best for you.”