The Power of Love (5 page)

“It also means Jarvis knows something about Harrison that we didn’t.”

That made him frown. “What do you mean?”

“It’s well known that Jarvis doesn’t like Luke’s commanding officer. Thinks he’s incompetent. So, this is either a chance to get back at him or to finally blacken his name with something he already has on him.”

“It wouldn’t come as a total surprise to realize Jarvis has something on Harrison. The man’s a jackass. He never could keep a clean house. How the hell he reached his rank I do
not
know.”

Dana snorted, then smoothed a hand down her neat chestnut bob. It was a tell. One he’d reminded her about, but one she couldn’t control. “I can do some more digging if you want?”

He smiled at his hacker extraordinaire. “No, you’ve already done more than you should. Jarvis asked me how the hell I got all those reports. Any more, and it will look more suspicious than it already is. He thinks there’s a leak, either that or some folk are unreliable over at the Tripoli base.”

She smirked, her eyes twinkling behind the thick rims of her glasses. “Didn’t tell him your PA was a hacker?”

“No, I didn’t.” He grumbled, “Keep it down!”

Though her grin was shit-eating, she simply shrugged. “It’s one of the reasons I’m in the program, sir. People know. Jarvis is too set in his ways to think anyone with ovaries is capable of more than being a secretary. The man’s not the biggest jackass on the base, but he’s close.”

Josh wrinkled his nose. “Well, jackass or not, I’m glad he thinks your ovaries get in the way of your competence. If he knew, you’d be his PA, not mine.”

“Aw, that’s loyalty for you,” she teased. “Anyway, I wouldn’t leave. I like my job.”

“Good.” His retort was curt, but together they walked down the corridor where his offices were. It was also close to the building’s exit. As they approached the outer door, he came to a decision and murmured, “I’m going home.”

That had her brows lifting. “It’s only eleven.”

“Luke should be back by now.”

“Oh. You didn’t want to welcome him? I could have rescheduled the meeting with Jarvis.”

Josh wriggled his shoulders when tension started to gather there. Guilt and shame mixed with the longing he felt to see his husband. “The meeting with Jarvis was too important to reschedule. Who knows when his schedule might have opened up again. Plus,” he admitted, “I didn’t want to be on the welcome committee. Not when our daughter is there. Little ears pick up on too much.” He looked at his watch. “My mother should have collected her by now. I asked her to take Lexi out for the afternoon.”

“Don’t be too hard on him. He’s had it rough these last couple of months.” She tapped the folders in her arms. “We’ve got the proof of it.”

Josh cocked a brow at her. “Which part of this conversation made you think I’d be angry with him?”

She studied him a second, then blushed. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” He grunted. “You obviously don’t have kids at home.”

“Well, no, but you know that already.”

“Don’t sound so unimpressed,” he mocked and shoved his hand in his pocket. As he fingered his keys, he continued, “Take the rest of the day off. You’ve earned it. You’ve halted a miscarriage of justice in its tracks.” He pulled a face. “Not that you’ll get the honor of it but you’ll have my gratitude until my dying day, which is some sort of recompense, I hope.

“Luke’s many things, but…he isn’t a fucking torturer. He can’t kill the goddamn rattlers in the land at the side of our house so he sure as hell couldn’t hurt a woman who was looking to him for protection. That’s why he was in the army. He wanted to protect people. He was trained to kill, we all are, but it was a last resort for him. Always was, always will be.” He sighed. “The only reason he wasn’t dishonorably discharged was because he was a commissioned officer. Otherwise, this might have gone differently. He might be in prison now. Left to rot because some sort of cover-up is going down.” He swallowed back his fury and in a hoarse voice, one that bled with his rage, stated, “Thank you, Dana. Thank you for stopping that from happening to my husband.”

She patted his arm, a weak smile curving her lips. “Thank me when this is over. This is only stage one.”

“Should be before Christmas. That’s when his appeal is set.”

“Good.” She nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”

After they saluted, they parted ways. He watched as Dana strode across the way to where she parked her car, and as he watched, a Jeep came tearing into the yard. As he’d discharged his driver for the day, spotting Steven Linden behind the wheel was fortuitous. He stood in front of the allotted space, not flinching when Steven took a few seconds too many to brake. When the Jeep came to a halt, he stepped around to peer through the driver’s window. “He get home okay?”

“Yeah. He did.”

“What’s he look like?”

“Someone worked a number on him. He’s beaten to fuck, sir.”

Josh gritted his teeth. “I’ll make that bastard pay.” He clenched his fist, punching it into the door. The pain rattled through him, his knuckles protesting the misuse, but he didn’t cry out, instead stated, “What about his injuries? Can he walk yet?”

“Your wif—well, your partner, she had to help him into the house.”

“He’s on his feet though?”

“Yeah.”

“Have anything to say on the way over?”

“No. Damn unnerving too.”

“What do you mean?”

Steven shrugged. “Luke’s always been a chatterer. He was silent.” He huffed. “First time I’ve seen him in civvies too.”

Josh scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Thanks for giving him a lift home.”

“I’m kind of surprised you weren’t there.”

It was a testament to the fact they’d been friends for a long time that Josh only cocked a brow and didn’t level him out for nosing into his business. “I was talking to the general.”

“Oh. Well, things aren’t good, Josh. I’m warning you, take things carefully. He’s different. Get that into your head before you go charging in, all guns blazing.”

“I know.” He really didn’t. Sucking in a breath, he asked, “You need the Jeep? I’m going home.”

Steve unfastened his belt and then opened the door. “All yours.”

“Thanks.”

“No bother. I’ll clear it with Vehicle Dispatch. See you later.”

Josh nodded, climbed into the car, and without a backward glance, set off.

That he finally got to clap eyes on his husband again had his heart racing, but butterflies clamored in his gut at what he’d find when he got back home.

The next few days were going to be hard. Harder than anything they’d ever experienced as a partnership.

Knowing how strong they were, of all the trials and tribulations they’d overcome to reach this point in their lives, Josh prayed it was enough.

Gia was strong, ferocious when it came to protecting her family, and Josh wouldn’t let things break apart without a fight. But Luke was a broken man. He didn’t need the reports or Steven’s words to confirm that for him.

He knew his lover well. Being accused of something so heinous…it would rot Luke’s heart. Burn away at his insides. Luke had a creator’s soul. He was sensitive. Not on the surface, but deep down where it mattered. The charges levied against him were more than out of character.

Josh had even had to lie to Gia about what those charges were. Rape seemed a damn sight better than the level of torture Luke had been accused of. The knowledge that people thought so badly of him would tear Luke to pieces.

They were there to pick him up again, to put him back together, but he prayed Luke would let them. If he didn’t, then Josh hadn’t a clue as to how to keep his family whole.

Chapter Three

The hardest thing about being home was knowing Gia was outside the door, but not having the impetus to ask her to come into the room.

He could hear her playing something on her phone. Every now and then, she’d laugh or growl—that meant she was playing Candy Crush; some things never changed. Other times, Lexi would call out and she’d reply, her response too close to be anywhere else but outside this bedroom.

Although Lexi had stopped calling out an hour ago, so, he had the feeling Laurie, Josh’s mom, had come to collect her.

Which meant they were alone in the house.

Which meant he was in bed, and Gia was outside in the hall.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want her in here. He did. If anything, the hellish four-day trek home was brightened by that first glance at her worried face.

Being home and having his mind still in Libya…it was difficult to reconcile it all. He didn’t know if he ever would. The way things had ended, his OTH discharge, the terrorist attack, everything was going to be fucked-up in his head for a long time to come.

And that was only the mental strain of this FUBAR ordeal. Never mind the physical. Every bone ached, and that was being generous.

When he’d set off en route to start his mission, aiding NATO with a series of high-profile abductions, he’d been filled with dread that something would happen to him. He’d been sure this was his last mission. And he’d been right. Only, he’d come back in one battered piece rather than a coffin.

That was something to be grateful for, at least. Though, he simply couldn’t believe things had ended the way they had.

It was bad enough going out under the wire into hostile territory only for his armored van to be blown up by an insurgent’s bomb, but to be dismissed on counts of torturing prisoners as well?

The administrative bullshit aside, it wasn’t those particular crimes that kept him awake at night. Sure, they enraged him. But that was it. He was flooded with fury at the notion he could do anything so disgusting to a fellow human being. It didn’t matter that people committed such heinous acts every day of the goddamn week; he wasn’t one of them. And so, it angered him. Infuriated him. Enough so that he’d appealed the ruling that had discharged him from service, though that discharge meant he could come home, see no time for the crimes he’d supposedly committed, and walk into a life free from the service.

Though he knew there was a cover-up underfoot, one that ordinarily would have sent him to prison for the charges, his need for justice had made him rock the boat and appeal the ruling. That cover-up would be fully exposed if he had his way. But all of that wasn’t the reason he couldn’t sleep at night. It was the sight of that bomber cub, an eight-year-old kid, blown to bits, right in front of his eyes that was fucking with his head.

The rest was a blur. He couldn’t even remember the details. There was no real memory of those few life-altering moments. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was the red mist, the propulsion of some tissue parts into the air. In comparison to that, the midair twirling of the Jeep was nothing.

And compare that to the bullshit with his colonel, yeah, he could cope with a few false accusations.

The kid, a tiny little thing, all big chestnut eyes and gaunt cheeks, had been a few years older than Lexi, but that was all he’d seen. In his mind, he imagined Lexi had been driven to that, killing the infidels, forced to blow herself up in the name of her God.

There was too much fucked-up shit going on in that part of the world. It killed him that he couldn’t make it right. If anything, during his time there, he’d had the feeling things would never be right. When they’d gone in, for good or ill, they’d messed with something they couldn’t correct.

It was his impression. Not the gospel, but it was how he felt.

The national security forces he’d worked with, trained with, were strong. Focused and determined to bring equilibrium to their country. He lauded them for that determination, and he hoped they achieved it. But it would be without his help now.

Five months cut short from his tour, a tour that would have passed on priceless advice to the national forces, and all because his colonel was a fucking sick bastard. Luke had caught him raping one of the female prisoners believed to be the wife of an ISIS supporter and as his punishment for beating the man black-and-blue and helping that poor innocent woman? A mixed-up bunch of charges that accused him of torturing prisoners—reversing it around so that
he
was the bad guy rather than his colonel.

How quickly everything had devolved after that, well, it still astounded him. Five weeks after the shit had first hit the fan, and he was back home. Bruised, damaged, broken.

Sighing, wishing he didn’t ache so much, and wishing he could bring a halt to his thoughts, he called out, “Gia? You there?”

He heard her shoes scramble against the floor and smiled at her haste when she burst through the door. “Yes, baby?” Her eyes were wide with eagerness, and he ached to see how she loved him. How she cared despite the rumors, despite his charges. She almost glowed with the feelings she had for him, feelings he’d feared would be replaced with disgust and horror upon his return.

God, he’d missed her. Josh too, of course, but he needed different things from each of his lovers. Gia was softness, warmth, affection. Josh was strength, lust, excitement. At the moment, he needed his woman’s love more than he needed his next breath.

Patting the side of the bed, he murmured, “Sit with me?”

“Gladly.” She shucked off her shoes, perched on the edge, then hovered. “You mind if I lie down?”

“’Course not. Get comfortable.” He hated that she had to ask, that he’d made it seem like she wasn’t welcome. He hadn’t meant to be standoffish either, but months in the field, topped off by this latest brand of bull crap, the softer side of his nature would take a while to come out and play.

She bit her lip as she lay out flat at his side, and he could see the concentration she used to keep her movements as slight as possible. His bones and aching head appreciated the lack of jiggle to the mattress. When she’d settled atop the covers, she moved her hand, reaching for his, but she let it hover, pausing to whisper, “Do you mind if we hold hands?”

He didn’t answer, just connected their fingers. The simple touch felt good, good enough to make tears prick his eyes. He clenched them shut, refusing to let them fall. The thought came to him again: God, how he’d missed her.