A PLACE CALLED HOME

Chapter Ten

Reza had headed back to the R&R Center to pick up Wisniak, only to find out the kid had left without being seen. He headed back to the barracks, dialing Wisniak’s cell phone repeatedly. It went straight to voicemail every time.

A sense of urgency rose up and threatened to choke him. Damn it, he had to keep the kid safe until the investigators could talk to him and verify his story.

And if Marshall was letting some of the guys haze members of the company…

It was going to take everything he had not to deal with that in his own special way.

Unable to shake the feeling that Wisniak was dangerously on edge, Reza swung into the barracks, praying that the kid was in his room.

The door was unlocked. Wisniak was there by himself, staring aimlessly at his computer. He looked up at Reza and blinked several times before he realized he was supposed to stand up.

He pushed shakily to his feet and attempted to go to parade rest.

Reza approached carefully. Rested a hand on Wisniak’s shoulder and was ashamed when the kid flinched away.

“What are you on?” Reza asked softly, keeping his voice level.

Wisniak’s face blanched, followed by a deep red flush that started at his neck and moved up toward his hair. “Um. Welbutrin. And Xanax. I took an Ambien at midnight.” He looked up at the ceiling. “I think.”

“You shouldn’t be here right now,” Reza said. “We’re going to pack up some of your stuff and take you to another barracks.” His gut was screaming that the kid had taken the wrong meds.

Wisniak blinked again, his throat working just as slowly. “Sarn’t Song said if I left my room, he’d have me court-martialed.” His words were slow. Dull.

“Song doesn’t get a vote,” Reza said. He gripped Wisniak’s shoulder tightly. “You did the right thing today,” he said quietly. “But I’m worried you’re not doing okay. Are you sure you’ve only taken what you’re prescribed?”

Reza had seen too many troopers nearly OD on the toxic mix of meds the docs frequently prescribed. Warnings went off in his head.

The young sergeant’s eyes filled as his face flushed scarlet. He lifted his chin and tried valiantly to keep it from wavering. “I’m fine, Sarn’t Ike.”

Reza clenched his jaw to keep the frustration pounding through him from overwhelming the scared soldier in front of him.

Something bad had happened to Wisniak. Something that had scarred him beyond repair. He’d heavily medicated himself just to survive whatever it was.

Reza knew the tendency all too well.

“I need to see what medications you took, okay?” He held up his hand when Wisniak’s eyes widened. “You’re not in any trouble. But you’re not acting right. I’ve got a doctor friend of mine who I just want to check with and make sure you haven’t taken too much of anything.” He kept his voice gentle, his words calm.

The stillness stretched for an eternity and then Wisniak shook his head. “You’re just going to tell Captain Marshall I took too much.”

“I won’t. I swear I won’t. I need to check, though, or I’m going to take you to the emergency room.” Wisniak needed to know that Reza was serious.

Another long moment and finally Wisniak nodded.

Wisniak lined up half a dozen pill bottles and Reza picked up the phone.

“Captain Lindberg.”

“Emily, it’s Reza.” He paused, his next words nearly impossible to get out. “I need your help.”

He read off the list of medications, not telling her that Wisniak was the soldier in question. She’d alert the cavalry and at this point, Reza wasn’t sure he could protect Wisniak from whatever vengeance Captain Marshall had in mind.

“He needs to be checked out at the hospital.” She paused. “Don’t risk it.”

Reza glanced at Wisniak, whose eyes were dull and looked like they were going in and out of focus. He took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“What’s going on?” Concern echoed across the distance between them.

“I can’t tell you right now.” Silence greeted his honest answer. “I’ll call you later?” “Okay.” An act of trust.

One he did not deserve.

***

He didn’t make it back to his office. He’d meant to. Instead, he detoured out to Engineer Lake, needing time to put everything to rights in his own head.

He dialed Foster. “I need you to pull Wisniak’s duty.”

“Oh, come on, Sarn’t Ike. That’s bullshit.”

“Foster, I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t important.” Wisniak was sleeping in his undisclosed barracks room. The ER doc had checked him out and said he just needed to sleep. It had taken everything Reza had to convince the shift commander not to report it to the chain of command. To Marshall.

For once, it felt like Reza had dodged a bullet.

“Fuck me, Sarn’t Ike. I haven’t had a day off in a month.” Foster had been running around with Ike after the delinquent members of his company. Bailing guys out of jail, picking them up before they went to jail.

Reza knew the pressure was building but he didn’t trust anyone else right now. “Look, I know. I’ll give you Friday off. Monday, too, if you don’t bitch about this too much.”

“Fine.” Foster spit the word into the phone. “But you owe me.”

Reza hung up, irritated by Foster’s attitude. Foster didn’t know about Wisniak’s allegations and Reza couldn’t tell him. He wanted badly to bring Foster up to speed but he couldn’t. Maybe he could ask Teague if Marshall had any skeletons in the closet.

Reza pulled the truck down the trail and backed in. He pulled the bottle from his glove box then dropped the tailgate. He sat for a long moment, watching the breeze stir small white caps in the man-made lake as he wrestled with the temptation to drink.

He twisted the cap off slowly, then twisted it back on. On. Off. Like his fingers belonged to someone else. Wisniak had accused Marshall of ignoring his complaints about being harassed. He knew that Song and Peters were assholes but he didn’t think that they were running around hazing people into the unit.

He didn’t want to believe that Marshall would have allowed this. He was a dickhead but to ignore threats of harm? Maybe it was just a prank that had gotten out of hand. Marshall was fond of breaking in the new soldiers. Ensuring they had loyalty to the team first.

The MPs were going to talk to Wisniak tomorrow. And then all hell was going to break loose in the company. Marshall was going to be informed he was under investigation and he was likely to unleash hell in his temper. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The ugly truth settled around Reza’s heart. He twisted the lid again. On. Off. It would be so easy to chase away the cold stone in his heart with a shot from the flask. No one was going to believe Wisniak.

That was the only thing that made sense. The stone was back, pressing on his chest.

“Fuck!” He slammed his fist into the truck bed. The brilliant starburst of pain exploded up Reza’s arm.

“There are generally better-accepted ways of managing your anger.”

He whipped around, surprised to see Emily standing there, chest heaving. She’d been running for a long time, judging by the sweat soaking her t-shirt. Her hair clung to her face.

“Are you managing yours?” he asked. He set the bottle down on the tailgate. She didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to be drinking. And he hadn’t yet.

Still, guilt crawled up his spine because if she hadn’t have shown up, he likely would have been halfway through the bottle soon.

God, but he missed the comfortable numbness sometimes.

“Better than you are, apparently.” She motioned her head toward the truck. “Can I sit?”

He swallowed and nodded. He slid over and made room for her on the tailgate of his F- 150. “You’re a long way from post.”

“I told you I liked to run out here.”

“How far is it from your office?”

“Six miles round trip.” Her breathing was slowing rapidly. “You okay?” She sat close enough that their upper arms touched. The heat from her body radiated through his uniform jacket.

“Sure.”

“So being okay means drinking?” There was no accusation in her voice.

“Considering I did not start drinking at breakfast, this is an improvement,” he said dryly. He almost told her about his problems with alcohol. About the accident in Colorado. About trying to stay sober and failing. Other than through deployments, this was the longest he’d ever gone without drinking and he was rapidly reaching his breaking point.

“Bad day?”

“’Bout normal.” He picked up the pint. Twisted the cap. On. Off. “What are you running this far out for?”

“I got my hand slapped for taking too long on the medical board files.” She sniffed. “Apparently, they found Sloban’s file today.”

“That’s bad?”

“It is when we’re backlogged six months and every day I take trying to make sure the cases are evaluated properly is a day my boss has to hear about it from the commanders here on post.”

“Considering your boss called my boss and I got my ass chewed because of it, I’m not exactly sympathetic. You could take longer. You know, be a pal?”

“I’ll do my best.” Emily grinned and pushed her hair out of her face. She sighed quietly, then shifted to lean against the side of the truck, her gaze dropping to the flask in Reza’s hand. “You know what my parents said when I told them I’d joined the Army, Reza?”

“You’re an adult. Why did they even get a vote?”

She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “You don’t understand the life I come from. My parents aren’t used to being defied. By anyone, let alone their daughter.”

“So what—you were supposed to marry some idiot banker’s son and instead ran off and joined the circus?”

“Bentley was a senator’s son, actually.”

“Really? Wow, you’re slumming pretty hard with me, huh?”

She frowned slightly. “I’m not slumming with you. You have more honor in your little finger than Bentley has in his entire body.”

Reza looked down at the pint, uncomfortable with that look in her eye. She looked at him like he was some kind of hero—and he was nothing of the sort.

“So you caught your best friend with your fiancé’s dick in her mouth and decided to join the Army?” he asked, changing the subject away from his alleged honor. His honor was nothing but a bad joke. A convenient lie that people used to overlook the worst of his sins.

“It was more than that but yes; that was part of it.” She rested her forehead in her palm. “I visited the VA hospital in Boston once with my friend. It was such a somber place. And I remember this woman there. She was sitting in the lobby. Off to one side, by herself. She looked so lonely. So sad. My friend just wanted to leave but I couldn’t…I couldn’t not talk to her.” She swallowed hard a couple of times. “She was trying to get her husband an appointment but was told there was a five-month wait.” She paused. “I’ll never forget the desperate sadness in her voice. Like she’d just given up.”

“What did you do?”

“I sent her to my father’s clinic.” She lifted her gaze to his. “His name was Mike Richards.”

“Was.”

“He killed himself while his wife was at the VA, fighting for him.” Her voice broke and she blinked, looking away.

“So then, why aren’t you there?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Boyfriend, right?”

“Ex.” She met his gaze. “I wanted to make a difference and all I feel like I’m doing is putting out fires.”

Reza shifted. “Welcome to the Army. That’s all we ever do.” He twisted the cap back on. Set the pint down by his hip. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who managed to get ahead of everything.”

“That’s so cynical,” she whispered.

He shrugged and let his gaze drift down her exposed legs. “I suppose cynical is just a way we get through this stuff,” he said.

“There are other ways to cope with stressors in life.”

“You sound like a shrink,” he murmured. But then he glanced up. Surprised to find her watching him, her eyes dark, her cheeks flushed. What would she do if he touched her? He reached out, cupping her calf, still slick with sweat.

She stilled, her eyes going wide as he slid his hand down her smooth skin. She was slick and soft and hot beneath his touch. Her lips parted.

But she didn’t pull away.

***

“You can’t be serious?” she whispered. “We’re outside. In broad daylight.” And chasing those words was arousal, hot and pulsing through her veins, to settle between her thighs.

“You’ve never gotten naked outside before?” His voice was thick.

“Not next to an Army airfield,” she whispered. She felt foolish. There wasn’t anyone around for miles.

“Trees overhead.” He inched his hand higher up the back of her leg. “I hear it’s great stress relief.”

“Getting naked or getting caught?” She gasped as his thumb stroked the inside of her knee. Such a simple touch. Electric and erotic. “I have to go back to work.”

He shifted then to crawl between her thighs. He captured her between his body and the truck. “You don’t need anyone’s permission for this,” he whispered against her mouth. “Be wild for once.”

She expected he’d kiss her but instead, he simply shifted and pulled her onto his lap. Her shins banged against the bed of the truck but none of that mattered when he pulled her flush against him. “This is your idea of wild?”

“It’s a start,” he said, his hands sliding up the back of her jersey. She shivered at his light caress against her skin.

“You can’t be serious?”

“I’m always serious when it comes to sex,” he whispered against her mouth. “And it’s a great alternative to what I had planned for stress relief.”

“Would that involve crawling into that pint?” she asked, threading her fingers behind his neck. “I thought you didn’t drink anymore.”

“I don’t.” He kissed her. “But that’s a long story and I much prefer this technique if you’re up for it.”

His fingers wandered over her back, slipping beneath the wet shirt. Was she seriously considering this? The thought of getting naked in the back of his truck was…it was forbidden. Something she’d never dreamt of trying when she’d been younger. The fear of getting caught added a delicious spice to the arousal coursing through her veins.

It stunned her how much she wanted this. Wanted to feel the kiss of the air against her bare skin. How much she wanted to feel the wild abandonment he brought to life inside her.

“I’ve never done it in the backseat before,” she whispered against his mouth.

He grinned and it was feral and hungry. “It’s been a long time since I’ve gone parking, too.” He urged her into his lap to straddle him. His big hands found her hips then he slid off the back of the truck and climbed into the backseat. “I’m sure we can figure it out.” He lifted his lips toward hers, his gaze on her mouth.

There was something powerful about her position. She slid her arms around his neck, threading her fingers into his soft, short hair. She brushed her top lip against his, a tentative gesture. His mouth opened but still, he let her retain control.

She flicked her tongue out, tracing the line of his lips. A shudder ran through him and his fingers tightened on her hips. His tongue met hers, a gentle caress between their lips, and excitement purred through her. She swallowed and eased back, enjoying the way he watched her. His wide full lips were parted.

Patient.

Waiting.

Letting her take control.

She licked her lips then leaned in to press them against his. Felt him shudder beneath her touch. Cradling his cheeks, she angled her mouth over his. His lips parted beneath hers, opening beneath her touch. A click of teeth and his tongue slid along hers, a sensual dance.

He was dying. A thousand slow deaths as she kissed him. He fought the primitive urge to drag her out of those sexy running shorts and drive his body into her. She was driving him insane with her sexy kisses and sensual sounds. He gripped her hips and she winced, a gasp that was not pleasure against his mouth. “Sorry. Hip still sore?” he whispered.

“It’s better than it was,” she murmured.

“I’ll be more careful.” He leaned up, capturing her mouth before she could get too far away. “But we’ve got to get you out of those shorts.”

“I’d much rather get you out of those pants.” She reached between them, fumbling with his uniform belt until it slid free. She flicked open the buttons on his pants and paused, her eyes widening. “No underwear?”

He shrugged, his lips parted, his eyes heavy with the anticipation of her touch. “Laundry day.” His voice was hoarse. “Touch me,” he whispered when she hesitated.

He guided her hand to his aching cock and almost died of pleasure from her gentle grip. He squeezed her hand tight around him and showed her the rhythm. He started to release her hand and let her stroke him.

“Don’t let go,” she said. He looked up to find her watching their hands intently. She lifted her gaze and their eyes collided. He’d never seen anything so fucking sexy as he guided her hand over his erection. The way she watched him, like this was the first time she’d ever done anything illicit. Anything without permission.

“Honey, if I don’t let go, we’re going to have a hell of a mess on our hands,” he murmured against her mouth. “Pun intended.”

“Oh.” A gasp, filled with arousal and heat and longing.

He kissed her then, pulling her close so that he could feel her heat against him.

He thanked the new truck fairies that he’d had the foresight to get a full-sized pickup, one with a backseat that had room in spades. He pushed the front seat forward as Emily shucked out of her shorts, then pushed his pants down as she crawled back into his lap.

“Condom?” she whispered. Her body was taut against his. He reached between their bodies to find her soaked. Swollen, so swollen.

He shifted miraculously producing a condom so fast she barely noticed and then urged her to rub against him. Her heat surrounded him, caressing his cock until he thought this was going to have a disappointing ending for them both. Instead, she shifted unexpectedly and slid down his length with an audible gasp.

“Fuck, did I hurt you?”

Her breath came in short quick bursts. “No. I need…I…” She pressed against him, her body shuddering around him. “This. I need this.”

He shifted then and arched his hips into hers. She cried out then started to move. Slow and deep, she took him, clenching around his cock until he thought he’d die from the simple pleasure of watching her move.

He leaned his head back and half-closed his eyes, letting her move, letting her find what felt good. And when he reached between them to stroke her softly, she whimpered but kept moving, riding him deeper. And then a little harder.

He stroked her until that first shudder broke over them both. She lost the rhythm and he found it, gripping her hips and holding her as he slid deeper, deeper into her. The cascade of emotion started with the tiniest wave of her shuddering pleasure. It continued, stronger and stronger until he clutched her to him and surrendered a piece of his soul.

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