Nashville SEAL: Jameson: Nashville SEALs (16 page)

Lizzie wasn’t picking up. He threw the phone on the bed, where it bouced and then safely landed next to the little divot made by the brunette’s butt cheeks earlier as she sat and waited.

Christ. You are a major asshole and a half. The biggest colosal fuckup in the history of fuckups. You suck the guts out of bugs that live in rotting corpses. You deserve to eat dogshit the rest of your life!

Nothing matched in words what his insides felt like.

With his elbows on his knees, hunched over on the couch, he wanted to rip his hair out by the roots. He’d never been so angry. He wanted to blame the brunette. Wanted to blame Lizzie for not believing in him. Blame Thomas for getting him into this concert mess in the first place. But in the end, the only person he could blame was himself.

Being perfectly honest, he knew something like this could have happened in real life if he’d remained a performer. He knew he was a shit. Worthless and not deserving of anyone’s love. Especially someone like Lizzie.

Had he just been fooling himself? Thinking somehow he wasn’t that guy who came into town, knocked up the pretty little girl, smooth-talked her parents, looked her father in the eyes like the louse he was. Looked right at him, with the words screaming in his brain, “I’ve been fucking your daughter. I’ve fucked her in the horse barn, in your bed, on the lawn in the backyard and in the woods you can see from your living room.” That’s who he really was. He was just a worthless singer who enjoyed the fantasy of being a hit songwriter. He didn’t even have Thomas’ guts to strut around for twenty years or more pretending. He wanted quick fame and fortune, expecting so much and deserving so little.

So maybe becoming a SEAL wasn’t about defending his country and their way of life. Maybe it was just a way of atonement, making up for being such a worthless piece of shit. Something he could show everyone and say, “See me? I’m really more worthy than you!” Was it that? Was that what it was about?

It hurt, but he hung his head and realized Lizzie would be better off without him. The pain of losing her, of losing Charlotte, which was the worst of it, was nearly unbearable. The poor little thing had just found her daddy, and now he’d destroyed her mother’s life. Taken away the only thing she could give him at four years of age: her trust.

He contemplated taking his life, but didn’t pack his gun. He should go after her, but why? He was dead to her. His coming back into her life, even if she’d let him, would only cause her more pain and heartache. It was best to let her go. Maybe she’d have a change of heart, and then he’d have to be strong and walk away. That was what was best for everyone.

How was he going to get over the next few hours until he could get himself back to San Diego? He didn’t want to be here. He never wanted to come back to this town again. Should he go out and get drunk? If he did, he’d not be able to use a car, but he could take a Taxi, or the train, or fly home. Should he just get drunk and pass out here? Then he’d have to talk to all those people—Thomas and the execs—and explain why he couldn’t go on stage tomorrow. Ask them to leave him alone. “Thanks for the ticket and the room and all, but I’m passing on the whole thing.”

He covered his face with his hands. He had to find her to make sure she was safe. But she would run away from him. Who would she call? Who could he contact?

Kendra!

He scrolled down his phone and found her number. It went straight to voicemail. No doubt, Lizzie had already contacted her. He was impatient with Kendra’s long greeting.

“Kendra? This is Jameson. Hey, Lizzie and I have had an awful fight and she’s left. She came to Nashville. Not sure if you knew that or not. She might run down to see you in Charlotte. I just want to know she’s okay, because it’s late and, well, I was a stupid sonofabitch. I’m calling just to beg you to try to find her. She won’t have anything to do with me now. Please find her, and please tell me she’s okay, that she’s safe. And I’m real sorry about this cryptic message. I’m just torn up inside. You have my number.”

As the reality of what had occurred descended further, he remembered that in five days he’d be on a plane to Africa to conduct a high-level secret mission to capture a Somali warlord. Closing his eyes, he surveyed what was left of his insides. He was grateful for the conclusion that he had what it took to enter into that arena.

Maybe if he was lucky, he’d get shot and that would be the end of everything. But there was a problem with that. He couldn’t do that. SEALs don’t give up. They might die fighting, or die defending someone or another Team Guy, but they sure as hell don’t give up.

He knew he’d been trained to put the chaos of this part of his life to the side. Put a lid on that urn filled with the smoldering ash that was his marriage, and place it on the shelf out of eyesight. Because what he had to focus on was keeping his buddies safe. If he was thinking about his marriage, and if he couldn’t stop thinking about Lizzie, he had no business going on the mission. He’d put all the men on Kyle’s squad at risk and the civilian population as well.

Can you do this?
He asked himself this question over and over again.

The answer came to him crisp and clear like a ice blue lake in the Sierras.

Yes!

‡

“Y
ou’re sure. He
was with another woman?”

“An old fling. He admitted as much. It was awful, Kendra. Oh God, I’ve made such a muck of my life.”

“Well, you come on down here, and we’ll get you sorted.”

“No. I don’t want to be anywhere close to guitar players, cowboy hats, any country western bars or places where he and his ilk hang out.”

“Well, sweetie, they do have cowboy bars in California.”

“Not in Sonoma County.”

Kendra was quiet. “Okay, Lizzie, you gotta breathe. Charlotte is in—”

“San Diego.”

“Right. And your things, your home is in—”

“San Diego.”

“And Jameson is going to be gone for what, three? Four months?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t see the problem, Lizzie.”

“I share a home with him.”

“Well that would make sense. You
are
married. Unless you’re gonna dissolve it. You’re not thinking of
that
are you? Your man leaves for war and you’re gonna divorce him by the time he gets back?”

“Well, yes, that’s what I was thinking.”

“Holy cow. You
are
mad. You don’t think there’s anything wrong with that?”

“Kendra, whose side are you on? Look what he did to me.”

“Except he said he didn’t. You’re forgetting that part. Could it be possible he’s telling the truth. I mean, have you ever doubted him before?”

“Kendra, she was completely buck naked. And she was his old girlfriend. She had candles and shit all over the room, rose petals. Girls just don’t do that without some kind of advanced planning.”

“Um hum. You don’t think so?”

“I mean, if it were me—well, I did remove my underwear. I was naked too.”

“Just a second. Why did you take your clothes off in a room with your husband and his ex-girlfriend who was also naked? I’m just trying to figure this out, Lizzie.”

“I didn’t take my clothes off in their room. I did it in the lobby.”

“The lobby. You took your clothes off in the lobby of the hotel.”

“No, not exactly the lobby, the women’s bathroom in the lobby.”

“And you walked through the lobby naked, got into the elevator and walked into his room naked.”

“No! I took my clothes off, then I put my dress back on, I went up to his room, then I took my dress off. Geez Kendra, is it that hard to follow?”

“Uh, yes.”

Lizzie let the silence give her time to figure out what she should do next. “So I want to go up to Sonoma County. I love it up there. Maybe help with the winery. Get Charlotte in that reading school Amy told me about.”

“Sure. And stay where?”

“Well, Nick and Devon said they’d be happy to have me there anytime.”

“Nick and Devon’s. The place where you got married? Where all the Team guys go, working on the winery deal? That place.”

Lizzie realized she wasn’t making sense.

“Honey, go back to him. Go back to Jameson and give him a chance to explain.”

“No.”

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

“Look, I got hurt once. He never tried to find me.”

“Lizzie, would you please get a clue? He’s slept with hundreds of women, didn’t you tell me that? You honestly think he remembered?”

“He said he did. He remembered talking to my Dad, riding horses.”

“Okay, you’re right. He could have looked you up. Except you sold your parent’s horse farm, remember?”

She’d forgotten about that.

“And you could have told him you were pregnant. Why didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t sure he wanted us.”

“So, you waited until you were. Until the timing was right. Can’t you see, it’s just like he said. It was perfect timing. You came back together when you could be there for each other.”

“But now he’s back to that same lifestyle.”

“Lizzie, I don’t know what to say to you. I can’t figure this out. You’ll have to do it on your own. But I recommend not doing it where you’ll run across him. If you need to think, think on your own away from him. It will only be a few days. Or, go home, wait for him. Talk to him. Let him explain. Don’t do this right before he has to go.”

“So why do I have to suck it up when he’s the one who made the mistake?”

Kendra’s silence made Lizzie nervous. She sighed. “Well, two reasons. First, he might be telling the truth and what a shame it would be not to hear that. And second, he might not come back, Lizzie. Have you thought about that? Can you imagine how it will feel, his new wife leaving him, or not knowing if she was going to leave him, and he’s over there getting shot at. Personally, I think the man’s worth it, even if he did make a mistake, a lapse, but that’s me. He’s a good man, Lizzie. He’s crazy about you and Charlotte. You are his whole world.”

Lizzie’s tears were unleashed in torrents ribboning down her cheeks.

“Actually, there is a third reason,” Kendra added.

“And that is?”

“I think the makeup sex between the two of you would be fabulous.”

Lizzie managed to giggle through her sniffles. “You bitch.”

“That’s right, just telling it straight. The way you get well is through him, not around him. Maybe you end it, maybe you don’t. I can’t make that decision for you. But you have to face him. You can’t run away. And there isn’t any place you can run away to anyway. You don’t want to be here. You have no family left in Nashville. San Diego is going to put you right into the middle of the community again, and if you’re leaving, that will be painful. Sonoma County is getting to be little San Diego with the winery and everything.” She sighed again and lowered her voice, carefully. “And then there’s Charlotte. When you have that conversation, you gotta be 100% sure it’s the right thing for the both of you.”

Lizzie could see she was right.

“So, should I give him space? Wait until we both get back into San Diego?”

“Oh, that makes a lot of sense. You find a cheap motel room. He languishes in that suite of his, drinking himself to sleep.”

“What if he’s not, what if he’s out on the prowl, drowning his sorrows?”

“God dammit, Lizzie. What if a nuclear war happens before you get over there? Would you listen to yourself, girl?”

“But I don’t know what I would do if he’s figured he’s lost me and called her back. What do I do then?”

“You wanna know what I would do, Lizzie?”

“Yes.”

“I’d fight for that sonofabitch. I’d make him the sorriest motherfucker in the history of the universe, and then I’d make him fuck me all night long until I stopped crying. And for all I’d care, I’d make that bimbo watch.”

Lizzie felt the guard drop, her armor clattering around on the ground at her feet. He’d said it was a mistake, not what it looked like. But she didn’t give him any chance to explain. She’d go back and listen, be reasonable and she’d do it now, not make him wait.

If he was alone. If he wasn’t, she might have to find a gun shop still open.

Lizzie glanced through
the lobby, not recognizing anyone, and for that she was grateful. She pressed the button on the elevator, riding to floor six with an older couple. At last the doors opened at floor eleven. She remembered him telling the story about the knock on the door and checking out the peephole to decide if he’d let the girl in or not. She decided she’d stand to the side away from visibility.

She could hear the music still on. She made fists with both hands, then knocked lightly and stepped aside. Nothing happened. She knocked again and again there was no answer.

Putting her ear to the door, she couldn’t hear anything. She tried the door handle and found it locked. She pushed the door and it clicked open, apparently ajar.

Remnants of the candle smoke remained in the air. The opened curtains let the lights of downtown in, giving her enough light to scan the room.

And then she found him asleep on the couch, gripping a bottle of champagne tightly. She knelt, carefully removing the champagne, and held it to the outside lights and discovered it was nearly gone. He still had on his special shirt, now stained with sweat. His hair hung out in tufts at the sides. His belt was unbuckled but his boots remained on. She slid her fingers through one of his hands and he was awake instantly.