“There’s no reason for you to come here. All you can do is confirm for yourself that the photos exist.”
“At least call the police.”
“It’s pointless. I managed to dump milk all over them before I touched them. Nobody’s going to find anything.” She sighed. “Realistically, what are they going to do? I’ve been through this with a client before. I’ll have to keep the pictures and establish a pattern of harassment. And get a restraining order against...who? Nobody even knows who this guy is.”
“There are emergency restraining orders.”
“I know, but I’ll be honest.” She sniffed. “I can’t take any more tonight. More police and more acknowledgement that this happened... It almost seems worse than the threat.”
This wasn’t something Andrea needed to dismiss so easily. If she planned to distance herself from anything, it shouldn’t be the danger. And the way she was talking, she’d chosen ignorance over her own safety. “You’re not considering the obvious.” It was a bad move, whether or not he understood it. Too often overseas, he’d been tempted to lull himself into a false sense of security, to seek refuge in denial. But he’d watched one too many good soldiers die because he’d chosen the delusion of peace over the reality of imminent harm. Letting Andrea do the same wasn’t part of his DNA.
“Believe me. I know. This isn’t just about Wade’s file. It might not even be about Wade at all. I don’t know what to even consider. The thing I need most right now is to sleep and forget this is happening for a few hours, but we both know that probably won’t happen.”
He should hang up on her and call the police himself, but the likelihood of her forgiving him after that was pretty much nonexistent. If he severed ties with her, who would watch her back? If she wanted to go on her own, the least he could do was go with her. “Okay, against my better judgment, you can have your way. For now.” Even as he said the words, second thoughts tore him apart. This went against all common sense. “But you have to let me do something.”
The silence was long, and he let her have it. From what he remembered, pushing her was a guaranteed way to make her turn in on herself, like the armadillos that were so prevalent in the woods around Fort Benning. “What I need, I guess, is...to talk about something else. To be distracted. To not be alone.”
Whatever cracked around his heart caused an almost physical pain. Alone. It was a feeling he knew all too well. He swallowed hard against what the sound of her voice did to his heart and sought for something to say. “You’re really okay?” Why did his voice go four octaves deeper than usual?
He cleared his throat. It seemed like something had been stuck there ever since he climbed in his truck to drive home and realized he’d come face-to-face with Andrea Donovan again.
How could her unexpected appearance yank at something so deep inside him? He knew muscle memory was real. Years of training had proven it to him. Emotional memory was a new one. Apparently it existed, and it was strong. The things her voice did to him shouldn’t happen this long after he’d last seen her, especially with all that had happened, but his skin prickled nonetheless.
“I’m okay.” She took a breath so deep it echoed over the phone line. “I’m just really, really hungry.”
Josh laughed so suddenly and so loudly it almost scared him. He just hoped she didn’t think he was laughing at her.
To his relief, she joined him.
His immediate purpose drew into sharper focus. Right now, Andrea needed him to do his best to fix this moment. “That sounded more like it should have been my line.”
“It is what it is.” She was clearly chewing. “Girls get hungry, too.”
“And it sounds like they talk with their mouths full. So never call a guy a pig again. I know you’ve probably done it before. Every girl has.”
She giggled, and the sound ran up his spine like lightning.
Josh dropped back onto the couch and stretched his feet out in front of him. The memory of her laughing as she watched her brother’s baseball games played like a movie in front of him. It had been a challenge to keep his eye on the ball from third base. She’d flip her hair over her shoulder and throw her head back at something one of her friends said and, for a moment, he’d forget about base hits and ground balls. Yeah, she’d cost him an out or two back in the day.
The corner of his mouth tipped up. He’d forgive her.
It warmed him that she hadn’t changed, that something of the girl he once knew still existed in the woman who’d stumbled back into his life today. What would it take to hear that laugh again? Back then he’d only enjoyed it from a distance. Every time they’d gotten close, she’d turned inside herself, grown quiet, the laughter disappearing from her eyes. Something about him had turned her so far off she ceased to be herself whenever he was around. Whatever it was, it seemed to have dissipated over the years. Josh took a deep breath and shook his head, trying to force the thoughts away. Frankly, he’d take what he could get. “What’re you eating?”
“PB&J and a big ol’ glass of milk.” There was a pause, then her voice cleared after she swallowed. “Fighting for her life leaves a girl sort of hungry.” The words didn’t quite sound as light as she probably wanted them to.
The fear around the edges struck a nerve. More than anything, Josh wanted to slay that dragon for her. The only thing he could do from his couch was keep her talking. He scanned his living room as though a topic of conversation would suddenly appear. “So, you’re a rehab counselor now?” He winced. That might keep her talking, but it wasn’t a subject he necessarily wanted to broach.
“Substance abuse counselor. I was in the army for a while. I went in after Brendan...” Her voice weakened on her brother’s name, but came back strong. “But then I decided I wanted to do something for the soldiers who are too afraid of having their careers destroyed if they go to army counseling or use Tricare to pay for services, so here I am working with soldiers and their families. Private donors and churches keep the doors open.”
Her passion touched something deep inside him and sparked an appreciation she’d likely never understand. The desire to unload the whole story onto her nearly overwhelmed him, but he swallowed the words. She’d never forgive him, and he couldn’t sever this tenuous bond now, not before he saw this to the end, protected now like he’d failed to protect so many years ago. “You see a lot of Brendan in these soldiers.”
The line grew silent, the moments stretching so thin they almost groaned in protest. “Andrea?”
She sighed. “Especially in Wade.”
His fingers tightened on the phone. This conversation wasn’t going the way he’d intended, but he was in too deep now to pull out. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at the funeral.” He was. Sorrier than she knew. But he could never tell her why.
“I’ve heard it was a nice ceremony.”
“You weren’t there?”
“I was there.” The sound of running water and the clink of glass on metal leaked through the phone, then silence. “I don’t remember any of it. All I remember is anger. Everything’s colored red, like there’s a haze over it.” Her voice was too matter-of-fact, too clinical.
There was no locating
