The Other Sister (Sister Series, #1) (16 page)

Jessie awoke to loud knocking on her bedroom door. She glanced at the red digital clock and groaned because it said four-thirty a.m. She couldn’t believe it, and threw a pillow over her head, but the knocking persisted. Then it stopped. She heard a scraping sound, and the next thing she knew, Will popped the lock and entered her bedroom. She groaned in annoyance.

“Change your mind about
having sex with me, soldier? Couldn’t it have waited for a better time?”

He barely spared her a glance, but rifled through her closet and came out with a pair of black sweats and a shirt. He threw them at her. She finally flipped over
and noticed he was wearing a similar outfit.

“Get up. Get dressed.”

“For what? I have to report for roll call or something?”

“No. We’re going for a run.”

“I don’t run.”

“You don’t do anything. So we’re
going to find you something to do. Why not run?”

“Because I won’t make it a block.”

“Well, it’ll be a block more than yesterday now, won’t it? You sit around feeling miserable, with nothing but bad memories that haunt you, and bad thoughts to propel you forward to do bad things. So today, we’re going to try something different.”

She threw the clothes back at him. “A run won’t make me forget I was raped, you stupid
asshole!”

“No. But it won’t harm you either,” he said, throwing the clothes back to her.

She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck one hip out. “You can’t make me.”

He smiled. “I can. I can make you. Let’s not push it that far.”

She stared at him for a moment. “You wouldn’t dare. I thought you were better than that.”

“No. No, I’m not. I’m a soldier
, you can’t fight me. Now get your ass out of bed. You got five minutes. I’ll be waiting.”

She grumbled, but quickly threw the covers back. She put the offensive clothes on, and found a pair of shoes that weren’t nearly proper for running. They had no support, but she didn’t own a pair that did.

Fitting a baseball cap onto her head, she finally came into the stark living room. It was a depressing place to live: generic, bland, basic as all army posts, or any soldier, she decided. She still hated soldiers, even if she liked Will.

Will was stretching, all two hundred pounds of raw muscle bending over, pulling, and flexing as his beautiful body prepared to do what God obviously meant it to do. She merely stood there, yawning.

“This is stupid.”

“Your lack of ambition is stupid. Now bend over.”

“I’ve never had it said to me quite that way before.”

He rolled his eyes and glared at her. She finally laughed. He didn’t like her past, and he hated her being crude, or acting like who and what she thought she was. He pretended the rapes made her more tragic, more pure, than she actually was.

“Just stretch.”

She bent over, and found her fingers were about five inches from reaching the floor. Okay, maybe she was bit young for such inflexibility.

Will finally stood up
and opened the front door.

“It’s still dark out there.”

“It is. I’ll be with you, right next to you. You can do this.”

“I hate the dark.”

“I know you do. But
I have to report to work. So it’s now.”

“Or never,” she mumbled.

“Jessie, one foot in front of the other. You can do that.”

She obeyed, if only to shut him up. She followed his tight, perfect ass as he took the lead, his stride long, graceful, and perfect. She was huffing before she reached the end of the street, and trailing before the second turn. Sweating and hyperventilating after only a half mile into it, she stopped, and wanted to fall flat onto the ground. Will slowed down, before turning and jogging back to her.

“Good. Now, keep walking before you cramp up.”

“Good? I made it about two feet.”

“You started. It’s a good start. That’s all you can do is start.”

She glared up at him from the pavement, beads of sweat dropping from her hairline down her face, while
huffing and puffing as her calf muscles burned. Still, she heard his tone. She saw that the whole exercise was much more than just a little jog. It was about her life.

He put his arm out, and opened his hand to hers. She looked at him in all his healthy, un-sweaty, glory, and positive, coach-like reinforcement. Finally, she accepted his hand and he pulled her up until she was standing next to him
and looking up into his face.

“Tonight, we’re going to the gym.”

“What? So I can start bench pressing my weight?”

“No. So I can teach you some self-defense moves. There’s no reason you can’t learn to protect yourself. Why not start tonight?”

Then he turned and began walking back towards their apartment. She stared after him, feeling confused, upset and totally lost. But she noticed an odd fluttering inside her. It felt so different, and new. What could it be? A stirring of hope? Interest? Optimism?

She eyed Will as they stood across a blue-padded mat from each other. She didn’t want to look as incapable as she felt, but there was no way she could do what he was asking of her. Why didn’t he realize she couldn’t do it? Deflect a man the size of Will? Yeah, right. If he wanted to attack her, or pin her down, well, of course, she knew that’s exactly what would happen.

“Need I remind you I’m pregnant?”

“I told you, we’ll start easy. Just basic stuff. Someday, when you’re not pregnant, I’m going to show you how to defend yourself no matter who or what attacks you.”

She turned, ready to storm off the mat. “I’m not one of your stupid soldiers.”

He came closer to her, and touched her shoulder. She hated how easily he made her feel small and cowardly for her snide remarks. How easily he could make her want to follow him to the ends of the earth, if only to get his approval. She knew, however, how dangerous it was to feel like that. She finally looked over her shoulder.

“You’re not helpless. I’m going to see to it that you finally realize that.”

She turned to him. “What do I have to do first?”

He nodded, and gave her a half grin that made her heart soar. “First let’s talk about the most vulnerable places on a man.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea of that.”

“Then let me teach you what to do with that knowledge.”

He spent an hour showing her moves, repeatedly, but patiently. She wasn’t the least bit athletic and didn’t pick things up easily. He had the patience of a saint, and never complained how many times he had to do it. He watched her practice, and tweaked her movements. When she ultimately managed to hit him correctly, right on the marks and as he instructed, her mouth gaped open in surprise. She rushed into Will’s arms, despite having just hit him in the balls. He caught her as she launched herself with self-satisfaction at him.

“I did it! I really did it.”

“You did it.” He grinned at her and she basked in his approval.

After that first day, she got up early every morning with no grumbling. When she got tired, sweaty, or winded, she remembered
the pride she saw on Will’s face, and pushed harder and longer, determined to gain his respect. If not from mastering the defensive moves, then from trying with all her heart. She jogged a little farther each day, and soon got to a mile, then beyond. She practiced all of his self-defense moves while he was gone.

He left a list on the kitchen counter each morning, asking her to pick up some fresh fruit, and maybe some steaks or chicken. She started grocery shopping for him. He gave her his credit card, with no qualms, and no admonishments about spending too much, or imposing limits. She took that a
s a sign of his trust in her and decided not to abuse it. She began helping around the apartment, seeing as she could hardly leave it. He complimented her on the shopping, and made sure to praise her for any efforts that kept her off the couch. She knew why he was doing it. Taking little, baby steps to make her feel like she could accomplish more, if she did more. And the thing was, his encouragement worked. She wanted to please him and she kept trying.

She forgave Will’s absence, and for being a soldier, and for trying to manage her as if she were his class project, and he was aiming for an A. At least, he kept trying with her. No one else would, and he didn’t insist on sleeping with her to do it. That was a first.

She got hungry one night and Will was late. She wandered into the kitchen and rummaged through the refrigerator. Will usually cooked for himself: meat and vegetables. She foraged for unhealthy snacks and crackers. Finding none, however, she pulled out a cookbook and flipped through it. She figured she could probably manage to cook something if she just bothered to read and follow the instructions.

She easily cut some leftover meat and opened some cans. After boiling water and broth, she eventually made the recipe for minestrone soup she found in the cookbook. She was surprised at the odd rush of pride she felt in the simple task of preparing a decent meal.

When Will came home, and smelled the aroma, he went into the kitchen. His look of shocked delight was enough to convince her she should try it again.

“You tried something new today.”

“I boiled some beans and broth.”

“You did something
new
. You should take something from that.”

She looked at him as he passed her and went to the sink to wash his hands. It was something he did each time he came home from anywhere. He was meticulous and always kept the apartment cleaned up. He didn’t say a word when he picked up her clutter, or did her dishes and laundry. Not a word about the red underwear she purposely left on the floor to see if he’d wash them.
Despite her constantly testing him, she found them neatly folded in her drawer the next day. He never said a word about it. Eventually, she got so embarrassed of his doing everything, she began to do more. No matter what she did, anything at all, he invariably complimented, encouraged, and praised her. It was kind of creepy. Like an infant learning to walk, every small task she accomplished was lauded and praised. Still, it was working.

She dished up a bowl for each of them. He wordlessly took it,
and sat at the little table, while she sat across from him. He took a small taste and she watched his face. He flinched, holding his hand up to his throat, and gagged. She started to stand up before she noticed his smile. His eyes were laughing. He didn’t often tease her.

“It’s good. Try it.”

She did. “It tastes like minestrone soup.”

“Wasn’t that the goal?”

She laughed. “Yes.”

“Thank you. I haven’t had anyone cook for me in awhile.”

She took several spoonfuls before finally asking, “Your wife, your real wife, I mean, did she cook for you?”

He paused and lowered his spoon to his soup. She rarely asked him personal questions. He nodded. “Yes, she did. Yes. She was a fantastic cook.”

“What was she like?”

“Like? I don’t know. She was kind, quiet, but had a great sense of humor. She’d say things that would surprise you because she didn’t look like she’d ever say them.”

“What did she look like?”

“Tall, blond,
green eyes. Why the sudden interest?”

She shrugged
and looked into her soup. “Just curious. She sounds a little like Lindsey.”

He glanced at her profile. “Yeah
, I guess she does.”

“Did you like my sister?”

“You know I did.”

“Would you have continued dating her?”

“I don’t know. Tough to say.”

“But you wanted to try?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m—”

“Don’t say it. Don’t say you’re with me now. Because you’re not. You’re babysitting me. Why don’t you tell Lindsey the truth? You could date her on the side, you know, get things started for when you divorce me. For when you’re free.”

“I think you should tell Lindsey the truth because you need her. And I’m not going to date anyone while I’m married to you.”

“Semantics. We’re no more married than I am a virgin.”

Will stopped eating and leaned back in his chair. “What happened today? Why are you picking a fight?”

She got up
and started clearing her dishes. “I’m not. That’s stupid.”

“What happened?”

She collapsed against the sink.
How did he know?
“I can’t button my pants.”

Will’s gaze
studied her face. “I’m sorry, what?”

“My pants no longer button. My stomach is getting too big. It means the baby is growing. And it’s probably going to make it.”

“Were you hoping to miscarry?”

Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let them out. She rarely cried anymore. She never cried in front of Will. “Maybe. I don’t know. I mean, I haven’t done anything on purpose, not since that night I got wasted and embarrassed you and Lindsey. But I guess I hoped it would resolve itself.”

Will rose and came up behind her. She wished he’d touch her, put his arms out, and let her fall against him. But Will didn’t do that with her. He didn’t touch or soothe her.

“Then I guess we’re having a baby.”

She looked up. “What?”

“I guess we should let it be known you and I are having a baby. You probably need some clothes huh? What are they called? Maternity wear?”

She nodded. He turned to leave the kitchen, but glanced back.

“My wife’s name was Gretchen. When she miscarried, it broke her heart. She grieved for months. Even now, she still commemorates the day
, she’s never forgotten it. You could look at it from that perspective too.”

Jessie stared blindly at the sink. She dug fingers into her arm and held her breath. He’d leave soon to go lift weights. He’d leave her alone. She could go into the bathroom and be alone. She’d just bring the scissors with her, since he’d taken out all the razors.