CHAPTER 5
Sarah walked out of the morning staff sync meeting unsure if the dread in her stomach was from the realization that she was going to have to see Sean today or from Major Wilson’s soul-withering gaze during the meeting.
Today’s glare had come because a lieutenant in the ops cell had missed a deadline—a deadline that Sarah had not been aware of, nor had she been aware that the damn lieutenant even worked for her.
Awesome.
And then there’d been a final little jab at the end of the three-hour marathon staff meeting about not having the investigation completed.
This job was going to be just as fun as her last job, working for people who hated their subordinates. By regulation, she had thirty days to conduct the investigation. But no time like the present to get things done. Last night, thanks to field grade officer–induced insomnia and because her leg had been throbbing like a toothache, Sarah had stayed up and gone through the limited paperwork she had on the case, avoiding the obvious reason why she was delaying dealing with Sean and his company as much as possible.
She didn’t want to see Sean again but she needed to just bite the pillow and get it over with. Get in, get done, and get as far away from Sean Nichols as she could. She’d moved on once. It was time to do it again. Permanently.
So she braced herself, put on her headgear, and headed toward his company ops. She needed to speak to Kearney and Smith, and then she could close this investigation up, send it to the lawyer for legal review, and be done with everything pertaining to Sean Nichols or his company.
She stepped into his company ops, though, and found the lights off in the front office. Empty but not silent. There was a crowd in the back—doing what, she had no idea.
She debated walking toward the noise, not really wanting to step foot in the middle of whatever chaos was going on.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to. Sean stepped into the front of the ops. He paused near the door, his gaze colliding with hers.
Her eyes flicked down his body and wow was that a mistake. He wasn’t wearing his uniform jacket. Sweat marked his thin brown T-shirt where it clung to his body, outlining broad shoulders and narrow stomach. His chest rose and fell quickly as he struggled to catch his breath but he stood there, still and silent. She wished she had something smart and witty to say, but her brain was stuck on sweat and heat and a whole lot of thoughts she should not be having about Sean Nichols.
Jesus, the man was sex on a stick. He’d grown into his height and filled out. She remembered the first time she’d seen his chest and the narrow trail of hair that had disappeared down his belly into his pants and her entire body tightened, wondering what he’d look like now beneath that Army T-shirt.
And wow, talk about a mental detour. Nothing like mentally undressing your ex in the office.
“Sounds like you need to call the MPs.” Her voice sounded gritty even to her own ears. Damn it. She was going to be professional around this man if it killed her. Which it might, to be honest.
He narrowed his dark eyes, not bothering to hide his suspicion at the carefully neutral statement. She could practically see him calculating his own response.
He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. “Combatives. Blowing off steam.”
Sarah raised her eyebrows. “On cement?” So far so good. They could be civil. They were both adults.
“We put down mats.”
“Safety first, right?” She took a deep breath, intensely aware of the weight of his gaze on her. “Look, Sean, about yesterday…”
“I was out of line.” He took a few steps closer, stopping just at the edge of her personal space. That he didn’t approach spoke volumes about the man he’d become. The boy he’d been would have come too close, come on too strong. She’d loved that about him back then, until she realized that his intensity wasn’t limited by anything close to resembling rational thought.
The apology stood between them, sucking the familiar animosity out of the space that separated them. He’d completely disarmed her with that single sentence. She finally looked up, meeting his gaze. There was an unexpected warmth there that threw her off balance.
“So was I,” she said simply, when she was certain her voice wouldn’t break. “I guess I wasn’t prepared to see you again. After…everything.”
“Yeah. I get that.” A shadow flickered in his eyes, and he looked away, fiddling with a pen that was chained to the counter. He cleared his throat. “So you need to talk to Kearney and Smith, right?”
“That should really take care of it.” She set the folder down on the counter and opened it. “I can’t honestly figure out why they want a formal investigation here, anyway. It seems like it’s a pretty straightforward incident.”
Sean nodded and tucked his hands beneath his arms. “I have Smith in the back. We’ve got to pick Kearney up from his group therapy session in twenty minutes.”
She didn’t miss how he ignored her comment about the investigation. “Group therapy?” Sarah made a quick note on the yellow legal pad inside her folder.
Sean sighed heavily. “He’s in alcohol abuse counseling, among other things.”
“Command referred or self?”
“Command.” Sean swallowed, his gaze flicking away briefly. “Kearney’s got a lot of…issues.” There was something off in his expression, a more personal worry than anything she’d ever thought possible. She’d seen that look before.
On Claire when she was acting as Sarn’t Iaconelli’s shield. Sarah studied the man in front of her, worried that this might be the exact same situation.
“This bothers you.”
He met her gaze then. “I’ve known him a long time. He’s a hell of a soldier downrange. It’s just his personal life that’s a disaster.”
She almost smiled. “I know a lot of soldiers like that.”
“Don’t we all?”
It felt strange talking to him like this. Like they were old friends. He studied her then, and she didn’t look away. Not from the past that stood between them. Not from the present that wrapped around them. She simply stood, taking in the changes half a lifetime and war had left on this man. A man she’d loved once upon a time.
He shifted and before her brain could register what he was about to do, he lifted his hand and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “It’s really good to see you again, Sarah.” Soft, hesitant words.
His fingers were warm and rough against her cheek, a shocking sensation. A touch that took her back, way back to when he used to touch her the exact same way. The memory collided with the present.
She stepped back out of pure reflex. Out of his space. Out of range.
“Please don’t do that again.” Pain and surprise laced those words.
Sean’s hand closed where it had still hung in the air, and he dropped it. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay.” But her voice wavered, just a little. “I’m…just not…I can’t rehash the past with you, Sean.”
“I get that.” He slipped his hands into his pockets, the muscles in his neck tense. “I’ll get Smith for you.” But he didn’t move, not for a breath, maybe longer. Silence stretched between them. For once, it was not uncomfortable or filled with unsaid things.
It simply was.
She’d wanted to grow old with him. She remembered that now. She missed the comfort she’d had with him. The complete ease and security she’d felt, just knowing he loved her.
Just not enough for her to be a soldier and his wife.
She cleared her throat, needing to focus on her mission.
Needing to put Sean Nichols out of her mind. Because she’d loved him once upon a time and he’d let her down. There was no happily ever after, not in this life.
Not for soldiers like Sarah.
* * *
He couldn’t say what had possessed him to reach out and touch her. He wanted to blame his lack of sleep, but even that felt like stretching the truth for his momentary insanity.
The truth was he’d simply wanted to see if she still reacted the same way to his touch. Because they’d been good together, once. And though he’d dated and even been marginally serious with a nurse back at Benning, he’d never settled down.
He cleared his throat. “You can, ah, use my first sergeant’s office to talk to Smith.”
“Your first sergeant won’t mind?”
“Nah, he’s heading to the motorpool after this so he’ll be out of the office for a while.” The front door of his orderly room swung open, letting in the bright Texas sun and heat.
In that moment, his total focus on Sarah diverted to the young soldier who walked through that door. The soldier who was only a shadow of the man Sean had once known. Gone was the quick grin and biting intelligence. His civilian T-shirt hung loosely on his thin shoulders. His pants were at least ten sizes too big and a chain ran from his belt loop to his back pocket.
But it was his eyes that shocked Sean the most. There were shadows there, dark and deep and filled with old ghosts and fresh torments.
People always wondered if the kids who came back fucked up from the war had gone downrange fucked up to begin with. Sean knew better.
But that didn’t make the shock at Haverson’s appearance any easier to mask. Sean tried to play off his surprise but his voice sounded hollow. Empty. “Hasselhoff!”
“Damn it, sir, I told you to stop calling me that. Haverson. Hav. Er. Son.” The smile didn’t even come close to reaching his eyes. Sean couldn’t remember the last time it really had. It had been months since Haverson had been transferred out of their unit and into the Warrior Transition Unit. Guilt wrapped around his throat and squeezed tight. He should have tried harder to get him transferred back to Sean’s unit. He’d ask the boss again. He had to try, right?
He threw one arm around Haverson’s shoulders and pulled him into a quick one-armed man hug. He felt frail. Far too thin.
“You reenlist yet?” Sean asked, stepping back.
“Nah. I told you, sir, I’m going home.” Haverson shook his head, the shadow creeping over his features. “The Warrior Transition Unit is putting my chapter packet on the expressway.”
Sarah shifted and the movement caught Sean’s eye, reminding him that they were not alone. Sean paused, keenly aware of Sarah watching their exchange. “I thought you were medically on hold?”
Haverson shrugged. “Apparently not. New cadre just took over and apparently, their goal in life is to get rid of us malingering crybaby sissies.” He made air quotes around “crybaby sissies.”
Sean’s mouth moved, but nothing came out. Anger blocked his throat, made it hard to breathe. He hated the fact that Haverson had been transferred to the WTU before Sean had taken command. “I’ll try again to get you pulled back over here,” he offered.
“Nah, it’s fine. I don’t think the Army’s the right place for me anymore.” There was resignation in those words.
Haverson was tired. Burned out from a lifetime at war. The dark slashes beneath his eyes weren’t the only signs. There was a gauntness to his cheeks, a hollowness that suggested not enough food or not enough time spent eating. Either way.
Sean needed a break, a space to pull his thoughts back from the edge of what he was afraid he was seeing in Haverson. “Haverson, this is a friend of mine, Captain Anders. Haves was my platoon medic in ’03.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You too, ma’am.” Haverson turned back to Sean when he spoke.
“What’s your plan?” Sean asked.
“My dad owns a motorcycle shop. I figure I’ll go putter around and work on bikes for a while. Try to get my head straight.”
Sarah moved into the first sergeant’s office and Sean was at once grateful for the gesture and terrified of being alone with Haverson. He didn’t know what to say, how to reach out. How to save the kid from self-destructing.
“You’re still not sleeping,” Sean said when Sarah was out of earshot. It was not a question.
Haverson shrugged and avoided his gaze. “Few hours here and there.”
“No meds?”
Haverson leaned against the counter. “Took too many the last year. Ambien doesn’t work for me anymore. They say you’re well and truly fucked if that happens. It’ll be all right. Have to crash sooner or later, right?”
Sean rubbed his shoulder reflexively. It ached now and again but just then, it flared up, violent and hot and burning. He stretched and tried to shove the pain away. “Just be careful the crash doesn’t come when you’re driving. Have you talked to a doc?”
“Tried, but the docs in the WTU won’t see me anymore because my packet is already in front of the board.” There was a crash and a stream of cussing from the back room. “What’s going on back there?”
Sean grinned. “Combatives.”
“Still using it as group therapy, huh?” Haverson’s smile almost reached his eyes. “Anyway, I’m leaving as soon as I get my orders. WTU already cleared me from post.” The shadows were back in his eyes now, dark and filled with haunted pain. “I just wanted to stop by and say hi.”
Sean pulled a sheet of paper from the printer and scribbled down his phone number. “You ever need anything, you call me. I don’t care if it’s midnight on Christmas, you call me.” Sean gripped Haverson’s shoulder and lowered his voice. “Don’t… Stay in the fight. Okay? Promise me?”
Haverson swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, man.” Haverson stepped away and grinned, trying to shake off the sudden seriousness of their conversation. The attempt failed, but Sean let it stand. “Keep in touch, though, okay?”
“You too.”
Sean said nothing as Haverson stepped out of the life he’d led and into a world outside the Army. He simply stood, watching Haverson walk away.
He felt Sarah watching him from his first sergeant’s doorway. “I’m worried about that kid,” he said quietly, without looking at her. “The WTUs don’t care about their soldiers. I’ve been trying to get him pulled back into my unit so I can look out for him.”
“But?”
“Battalion commander won’t even consider it. Says we don’t have the resources to look after every wounded soldier’s medical needs.”
She looked down but not before Sean saw something behind her eyes. Something unspoken, laced with fear and something else. He wanted to push, to ask her about it.
When she said nothing, Sean sighed hard and dropped his hands into his pockets. Found the coins there, comforting and warm.
He tensed when she moved closer and stopped just inside of his personal space. Some part of his brain registered that she walked with a faint limp. He’d have to remember to ask her about that sometime, too.
But when she rested her palm on his forearm, the gesture was both unexpected and unwelcome. The sympathy threatened to destroy the control he was barely holding on to.
He stilled, unable to move. He looked down at her palm, warm and soft against his skin.
“Your commander is right, Sean,” she said quietly. “You can’t save everyone. No matter how much you might want otherwise.”
Sean stared at her, wrestling with a thousand unsaid things twisting and burning beneath his heart. “I know that.” The harshest truth.
The kindred spirit of loss wrapped around them. For a moment, the harsh words and breathtaking disappointment were gone, and they were just two soldiers, each with their own scars from the war that had taken those they cared about.
He wanted to tell her. Wanted to tell her he’d known her husband. That Jack had been a friend of his.
That he’d been there when Jack had died. And oh God, he was sorry. Sorry that he hadn’t done more to save them. Sorry he hadn’t brought her husband back to her.
But he said none of those things. Because he was a coward, and regret sat on his chest like a wet wool blanket.
Finally, he cleared his throat, needing to break the silence and get back onto clear footing with this woman who resurrected far too many things he’d tried to forget. “I’ll, ah, round up Smith for you.”
He walked away. Because that’s what he was so terribly good at when it came to her.