she said sadly, sorry that he was withdrawing again. “I didn’t want to know ahead of time. I wanted to be surprised. There aren’t many real surprises left in the world.”
“You always surprised me,” he said. “Still do.” Just for a second, she saw another crack in the wall around him. Then it was gone and as if to prove it to her, he turned and pushed off the bed.
He walked naked to the open French doors and out onto the terrace. On the twenty-fifth floor, facing the ocean, there was no one to see them. No nosy neighbors.
He stood there in the cold wind, his hair lifted off his neck and Rita wanted to touch it, feel it against her skin again. Broad shoulders, narrow hips and long, muscular legs made her mouth water, but while her blood burned, her mind mourned because he was trying to pull away from her. Again.
But Rita wasn’t going to let him. Not this time. Scrambling off the bed, she went to him and pulled at his upper arm until he turned to face her. “I’m not going to quit trying to reach you, Jack.”
He shook his head. “Did you ever think that maybe there’s nothing to reach?”
“No.” She shook her head, too, just as fiercely determined to find him as he was to hide. “There’s you, Jack. And I’m not going to stop pestering, pushing you. I’m not going to stop asking you what happened, so you might as well give in now and tell me.”
“Damn, you’ve got a hard head,” he murmured, with the faintest of smiles.
“That’s been said before.” She looked at him ruefully. “By you, mostly. Jack, tell me. Tell me what’s haunting you.”
He grimaced. “Haunting is the right word for it.”
“Talk.”
A harsh laugh that held no humor scraped his throat and his gaze swung past her to lock on the dark, roiling ocean. But he looked more as though he was focusing on something only he could see. His ghosts. His past. And finally, Rita thought, he was going to bring her into the shadows with him. Maybe then, she’d be able to hold his hand and lead him back into the light.
“You want to know?” He blew out a breath. “Fine. Here it is. Two days after I left you, I was back with my unit.” He glanced at her briefly before turning his gaze to the sea. “I was actually writing you a letter when my squad was sent out to do some recon on a nearby village.”
Her heartbeat stuttered a little, knowing that he had been keeping his promise to write and a little fearful of what had kept him from completing that letter. Rita watched him, judging every tiny twist of his features, trying to guess at the turnings of his mind, at the nearness of his ghosts. Her gaze on his profile, she held her breath and waited.
His voice sounded far away as if he wasn’t really there with her at all, but instead, he was caught in his memories. He was somehow more a part of his past than he was a part of his life, here. She had to know why.
“We were told there was sniper activity so we were careful. Well, thought we were.” He shook his head, gritted his teeth and forced the words out. “I’m not going into details here, Rita. You don’t need to know them anyway. Short version. One of my guys was shot. We took cover, a couple of men breaking right while my best friend and I went left, dragging the wounded man with us.”
“Jack...” She put one hand on his forearm.
“There was an IED on the left.”
Tears drenched her eyes. She didn’t know what was coming next, but her heart ached just looking at his stony profile, the hard set of his jaw, his narrowed gaze.
“The wounded man was killed. My friend Kevin got hit hard. His legs.” He blew out a breath then dragged in another gulp of the cold, sea air. Shaking his head, he swallowed hard and continued, “Somehow, we got the sniper and then I could work on Kevin’s wounds. I got tourniquets on him but he fought me.” He paused, to steady himself, to distance himself from the pain? She couldn’t know. But he kept talking, so she stayed quiet.
“Kevin didn’t want to live without his legs—kept cursing at me to leave him be. I wouldn’t listen. Couldn’t let him die.”
“Of course not.” God, to have such scenes and more in your head. To see them in your sleep. His sister, Cass, was right. These guys weren’t sick. They were hurt. Right down to their souls. Rita wrapped her arms around him and held on whether he was aware of her or not.
“We called for medics and evac. One guy dead, two wounded and Kevin, half-conscious and still cursing me for saving him.” Jack scrubbed one hand across his mouth as if he could somehow wipe away the taste of his own words. Then he finally shifted his gaze to hers and when she looked into his eyes, Rita felt the sympathy he’d already said he didn’t want.
“I couldn’t write to you after that,” he said. “Couldn’t even think about you. I talked to my friend’s widow after they notified her and left her broken to pieces. She loved Mike so much that losing him shattered her completely. Then I went to see my best friend, Kevin, before they flew him out for surgery and he wouldn’t even talk to me.
“Hell, he wouldn’t look at me. All those curses he’d brought down on my head for saving him were still running through my head and probably his. It was like I was dead to him.”
“You never talked to him again?”
“No.” Jack took a breath and blew it out again. “He contacted me a couple of months ago, but I didn’t get back to him.”
“Why not?”
“What’s the point, Rita?” He shoved both hands through his hair. “You think I want to stand there, look at him in a chair and have him ream me all over again? No, thanks.”
She felt for him. He’d saved his friend, done his best for him and the man had fought him every step of the way. No wonder he was tortured by nightmares and didn’t want to talk about what he remembered. But things might have changed for his friend by now. Maybe he wanted to make amends with Jack and by not allowing it, Jack kept the pain close and fresh.
“You don’t know what he wanted,” she told him. “Maybe he wanted to say thank you.”
“I don’t need to be thanked, either,” he snapped. “I did what I had to do. That’s it.”
The emptiness in Jack’s eyes was so profound, Rita didn’t know how he could still be standing. He had to be the strongest man she’d ever known. And the most alone. Even with a family who loved him, a wife and a child on the way, he was so terribly alone.
Voice brisk, letting her know this little truth-telling session was now at an end, he said, “Anyway. After all that, I had nothing left for you, Rita.” Shaking his head, he said softly, “Still don’t. I’m not the guy you knew. Hell, I don’t even recognize that man anymore.”
“Well, I do,” she said, going up on her toes to kiss him. “I know him. I still see him when I look into your eyes. And I know you’re punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”
“My squad. My calls.”
“And you think I have a hard head.”
He glanced at her, surprise flickering in his eyes.
