“You didn’t do this.”
“No, I didn’t. But I’m going to be the one who makes him pay for it.”
My head shook. “I already told you, no police.”
One dark note came from him. It wasn’t a laugh. It wasn’t a grunt. It was something all its own. Something that gave me a window into the darkness he endured for half a decade.
“My brand of justice doesn’t involve the police or the legal system. I have a more eye-for-an-eye policy when it comes to punishment.” He moved closer to the shower. “There’s an obvious solution to this. One I’m not afraid to address. Or execute.”
My nails dug into my palms. “No, there isn’t. Not when it’s a police officer you’re talking about. They won’t rest until they figure out who killed one of their own. And they’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life in prison, wishing you’d died with him.” My forehead pressed into my knees. “I can’t stand the thought of you going back into another prison after what you’ve been through.”
He moved closer and kneeled outside the glass door. “I spent years in an Iraqi prison because my squad drew the short straw. I’ll spend the rest of my life in another prison for something actually worth going to jail for.”
I lifted my head to watch his hand press into the glass. I spread my hand out over his. “Like what?”
The glass was too foggy to see through, but I swore I could see his eyes looking into mine right then. His stare went right through that pane of glass. “Like you.”
My fingers curled like they were tying through his. His did the same.
“Why didn’t you leave him?”
The hot water was starting to run out. I wasn’t sure that once it was gone, I could get up and out of the shower on my own. Already I could feel my body going stiff from the fall, petrifying. “For Keenan. I stayed for him.”
“It’s important for a boy to be around his dad. If he’s a good one. If he doesn’t hit his mom. If he doesn’t leave her bloodied and broken at the bottom of the stairs before running off.” Brecken’s head twisted away.
“I didn’t stay for that reason.” Taking a breath, I braced my hands on the shower floor and pushed myself up. It felt like every nerve in my body decided to fire at the same time.
Brecken rose when I did. “What other reason did you have to stay?”
I needed a few seconds before I could reply. The pain was so intense, my vision was vacillating from black to white. “Crew’s threatened to seek full custody of Keenan if I leave. He promised me he’d get it too. With his connections.”
“Even with his connections, what dad gets full custody unless the mom is an irresponsible, negligent junkie?”
Twisting off the shower, I stood there letting the water finish dripping off of me, unable to open the shower door. “That’s what he’ll prove. He’s got an entire file of proof, evidence, that will incriminate me if it comes to seeking custody.”
“What kind of evidence?” Brecken snorted, pulling a towel off the rack. “The kind that testifies that you’re an amazing mom? Let him try. He’ll look like an asshole for even trying to make you look irresponsible.”
I took the towel when he handed it over, but I let it drop at my side instead of wrapping it around my body. “My fingerprints on things that would prove otherwise. Photos of me. A whole line-up of character witnesses that would prove me unfitting as a mother.”
I couldn’t hear Brecken’s breaths anymore. It was like he’d stopped breathing. “Drugs?”
My fingers curled into my palms. “And more.”
The only sound was the shower dripping.
“Is it true?” His voice was quiet. “Any of it?”
“No. But that doesn’t matter, because he’ll make it true. I know it.” I wound the towel around my body as best as I could. “He’s a police detective. He knows about evidence. He knows how to make it convincing. No judge is going to side with me, a stay-at-home mom with no job, no real friends, when all of that evidence is stacked against me, when Crew’s the upstanding person in the community he is.”
“Crew’s a piece of shit,” Brecken snapped. “Not upstanding.”
“We’re not the ones who need to be convinced of that.” My fingers closed around the shower handle. “Can you close your eyes? Please?”
“I already saw what he did to you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I should look you over, just in case you need to get something looked at.”
I tucked the towel around me tighter. “You haven’t seen everything.”
“I saw enough to make sure I go real slow when I sever his dick from the rest of him,” he grunted.
“Just, please, close your eyes.”
An exhale. “Fine. They’re closed.”
Peeking out, I made sure they were before opening the door the rest of the way. “And maybe turn around too.”
“I won’t look,” he promised, turning around anyway.
“Thank you.” I yanked my bathrobe from the hook on the back of the door and threw it on. It was one of those long, bulky ones, which was perfect since it would conceal most of the damage. My hand rested on the side of Brecken’s arm. It surprised him, making him flinch. A moment later though, his hand lifted to cover mine. “I stayed for Keenan. Because the thought of him being raised by Crew is enough to make me endure ten times this every night of my life if that’s what it comes down to.”
“It won’t come down to that. This won’t ever happen again.” Brecken lifted one brow, his eye opening a slit, waiting for me to give him the okay.
“You can look now.”
Whatever he saw made his throat move as he swallowed. Turning around, he lifted his hand and combed my wet hair back from my face. His motions were slow, gentle, like he knew how to handle a wounded animal following an attack.
“That’s the last time I’m ever taking my eyes off of you. Please don’t ever ask me that again.” He scanned my face, the skin between his eyes creasing when he got to my forehead. “That’s going to need a bandage. A big one.” He looked away, his throat bobbing. “Where do you keep them?”
“Above the sink.” I indicated the medicine cabinet before I started out of the bathroom. I needed to lie down. Before I fell down.
“Do you want something for the pain? The military docs gave me a ton of stuff when I gave back. Pills I could probably sell for a whole lot of money on the streets.” The whine of the cabinet opening sounded, followed by some riffling. “I hear some of it’s supposed to be pretty fantastic.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll stick to my ibuprofen.” When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I found myself staring at the spot where I’d fallen. There wasn’t much to show for it: a few smears of blood, a scuff mark from Brecken’s boot when he’d come rushing in. No indication that a human had just crashed into a million little pieces right in that very spot.
“Yeah, I didn’t take any of that stuff either.” Brecken stopped in the living room when he saw me standing there staring at the spot where he’d found me. His hand holding the bandages fell at his side.
“What’s your reason?” I asked. “Why didn’t you take them?”
Brecken moved up beside me so we were shoulder to shoulder in front of those stairs. Then he took my hand. The same hand as my bad wrist. “Because you and me, what we’ve been through, the pain makes us sharp, keeps us on our guard. Without it, we’re vulnerable.” Leading me away from the stairs, he turned toward the couch. “If we start dulling our pain—looking for ways to mask it—we become no better than those who caused it to begin with.”
My other hand curled around the top of my bathrobe. “What makes us better is we don’t let our pain become a disease, allowing it to infect others.”
He stopped moving, his eyes narrowing on the front door. “Oh, I have every intention of allowing my pain to infect a certain other. It’s taking everything inside of me to stay here with you and not go after him so I can take all of that pain I carry and share it with him. Ev
ery last piece of it.” The sinews running down his neck stiffened, showing through his skin.
“Revenge isn’t the answer.”
He helped me lower to the couch, his jaw clenching when he noticed my face draw up from the movement. “I’m not looking for an answer. I’m looking for retribution.” Once I was seated, he collected the throw pillows, fanning them on one end. “Blankets?”
“In the closet.” I ground my teeth together and twisted on the couch so I could lie back. My head pulsed from the motion, the rest of my body feeling like it was being whittled away one layer at a time.
“Is Crew carrying a gun?” He grabbed a stack of blankets from the top shelf, pausing at the front door to lock it. Then he hooked his foot under the wall table and slid it in front of it. “Just so I know what I’m dealing with if he comes through the door tonight?”
“He won’t be back tonight. He’ll go somewhere. He’ll drink some more, feel bad, maybe call to apologize tomorrow and promise it will never happen again, but he won’t be back tonight.” My head fell heavy into the pillows as I adjusted my robe so it was covering as much of my body as it could.
“Whenever he decides to show up, I’ll be right here. Waiting for him.”
“I’m not worried about Crew right now. I have to figure out what to tell Keenan in the morning.”
When Brecken started unfolding the blankets beside me, he couldn’t seem to look at my face for more than a moment at a time. He was an adult, had been through something truly horrendous, and could barely stand to look at me. What would my five-year-old son do when he saw his mom like this?
“It’s always worse the next day. I can hide most of this, but I won’t be able to hide how I move.” I tucked the first blanket around my head and body, knowing I couldn’t hide forever behind a blanket. Or even for long.
His eyes narrowed in concentration as he layered another blanket over me. “We’ll say you’re sick. You can rest. I’ll take care of Keenan. Keep him occupied.” After spreading the last blanket over me, he grabbed one of the chairs across the room and pulled it toward the couch. “I might need a few pointers on what might keep him entertained though.”
“He gets to spend a day with you?” My eyebrow lifted. “He will be plenty entertained.”
His face ironed out. “Pizza delivery? That’s still a thing, right?”
The seriousness of his question made my mouth twitch. “It’s still a thing. You haven’t been gone that long.”
“Thank god.” He stretched back into the chair, scooting closer. “My cooking skills still have room for improvement.”
“Improvement?”
“I tried making Easy Mac yesterday.”
“It’s called that for a reason.”
“I forgot to add the water. The silver lining is that I fried my microwave, so I can’t make that same mistake again.”
A small laugh rattled in my chest. “Delivery it is then.”
He smiled, tucking the blanket around me tighter. He handed me a couple of ibuprofens and a glass of water, taking the cup from me when I was done.
“What have you been eating all week if you haven’t been able to cook and you had to ask if delivery is still around?” My gaze roamed him. He seemed like he was getting bigger every day. He was starting to fill out his old clothes again, cuts and grooves working back into his arms. He didn’t resemble the man I’d seen at the homecoming party a month ago.
“Protein shakes. Protein bars. Pretty much anything I don’t have to apply heat to and potentially light on fire.”
Another laugh rattled out of me, making it sound like my lungs were straining.
Brecken held his smile, but his forehead folded. “Just sleep.” He smoothed my hair back from my forehead where my cut was. “I’ll be here if you need anything. I’ll be here if Keenan needs anything. Just let yourself rest.”
My eyes closed, sleep sweeping me under instantly.
“You’re safe.”
For the first time since Brecken left six years ago, I woke up feeling rested. I woke up having slept the whole night through.
I doubted it was a coincidence that it was the first night I’d spent with him beside me. We might not have been sharing the same bed or tangled up in each other, but I’d felt his presence.
“It’s not even six yet. Why don’t you get a little more rest?” The chair made a noise when he sat up, his face mirroring his strong voice. His eyes didn’t look tired, but I knew he hadn’t slept. Brecken didn’t know how to break a promise. Him making it back after we all thought he’d died years ago testified to that.
“Keenan gets up around seven.” My throat was dry, my head felt like it was about to break open, and the rest of me felt like it already had.
“I’ll take care of him when he does. Sleep.” His hand smoothed the blankets down.
When I rolled onto my back, I had to choke back the cry that rose. I’d been expecting the pain to be worse this morning, but I still hadn’t been fully prepared for it. Instead of taking a tumble down fourteen stairs, I felt like I’d been thrown down a cliff face and landed on a bed of jagged boulders.
“Can I have some water?”
“One step ahead of you.” He reached for something on the floor. “I remember waking up so many times and feeling like I would have told them anything they wanted if I could just have one sip of water. There’s something about pain that makes a person thirsty.” He unscrewed the water bottle’s lid and held it out for me, guiding his hand behind my head to help lift it.
Half the bottle was gone before he pulled it back.
“And a couple more of these.” He held two pain relievers in front of me and set them on my tongue when I opened my mouth. He lifted the bottle to my lips again after I swallowed the pills. “I would have told them everything else for a couple of those.” He painted on a smile and let me finish what was left of the water. “More?” He lifted another bottle off the floor.
When I shook my head and tried to sit up, flashes of pain licked up my spine. My back felt raw from the damage Crew’s belt had done, and Brecken didn’t miss it.
“Did you break a rib?” He was already sitting up, scooting my robe down my back to check. His hands froze.
A ragged breath spilled from his mouth.
“Camryn …” Another uneven breath, his fingers barely skimming over the marks on my back.
“Nothing’s broken.”
His fingers traced an old scar running across my spine. “I might be,” he said in a voice that was balancing the knife’s edge of tormented and defeated. “Last night. His belt. That wasn’t the first time.” His eyes lost focus as I felt his hand ball into a fist against my back. “He’s been torturing you.”
A sob rocked my body. Hearing him use that word, experiencing it spoken out loud … I’d been able to pretend it was something else, something less cryptic, but if anyone understood the concept of torture, it was Brecken. Abuse and torture might have been related, but they weren’t identical. I’d experienced both in my relationship with Crew, but only one felt capable of breaking me. Only one felt like it had.
Brecken was taking strained, uneven breaths, his body trembling just enough I could tell. Reaching for something else on the floor, he lifted a bag of ice. He pressed it gently to my back, wincing with me. His other hand stayed in his lap, balled into such a tight fist, his knuckles looked like they were about to burst through the skin.
“You do realize that the next time I see him, I’m going to kill him, right?”
“Brecken …”
“He’s dying or I am,” he said, moving the bag of ice down my back. “And I don’t die easily.”
“Yeah, I think you’ve proved that to the world by now.” I pulled the blanket up my body, feeling naked even though it was only my back that was bare. “But what good would killing Crew do when you wound up spending the rest of your life in another prison?”
“If he’s dead, he can’t hurt you.” The skin between his brows creased. “
And the rest of my life in prison is a good trade for that guarantee.”
I should have put up a few more protests, but my mouth felt like it had lost its ability to defend Crew one more time.
Brecken’s eyes shifted to the door. His body was still here, but everything else was somewhere else. “Back in Iraq? There were a couple of really bad ones, so evil it seemed like they’d been born like that, you know? Birthed in hell or something.” The corners of his eyes creased. “I’d lie awake plotting the things I’d do to them if I ever had a chance, ways I’d kill them.” His eyes came back to meet mine. The emotion in them made my breath stop. “My worst fantasy looks like a picnic compared to what I’m going to do to Crew.”
He moved the bag of ice to another patch of my back. He was making the pain go away, one piece at a time.
“Brecken, please … violence isn’t the answer.”
“Tell that to your husband.” A black flame flashed through his eyes. “There’s only one way to beat a monster, Blue Bird.”
“What way is that?” I whispered.
“Playing the game by their rules. Winning the game by their rules.”
“You’re a marine. That’s what you know.”
“I’m a man. Staring at a woman I’ve loved, trying not to break down in front of her broken body.” His voice broke, matching the look on his face. “Trying to be strong when I’ve never in my life felt weaker. Trying to look like I can handle seeing her like this when I can’t fucking handle seeing her like this.”
His gaze shifted to my back, his eyes squeezing closed right after. This was the one time I’d ever seen Brecken appear weak. The only time I’d seen him broken. He’d been through every brand of hell created by man, and the thing to break him was me. I wasn’t sure if that should make me feel special or unworthy. I supposed I felt a little of both.
He shifted the ice to another spot, cracking his neck as he rolled it. “Just to warn you, there’s going to be some media floating around the next week or so. I agreed to give a few interviews.”
I exhaled, thankful for the shift in conversation. “I thought you’d decided not to give any interviews.”