06 Double Danger (26 page)

J
illian sat on the sofa in the sitting room, curled up under an afghan. They’d stayed at the stadium long enough to verify that things had quieted down and there was no sign of further threat. They’d closed the bars and restaurants that were still open and escorted the stragglers from the stadium. Then they’d worked to hurry the players and journalists along, the NYPD playing the heavy. And finally, with Avery’s blessing, Simon had driven J.J. back to the safe house.

She probably ought to be in bed, but her mind was still running a mile a minute, replaying the events of a few hours ago. She could still see the guy leveling his gun, feel the wave of certainty that this was it. That she was going to die. But then Simon had been there, doing what was necessary to keep her safe. Riding to her rescue once again.

And yet even though she knew in her heart that Simon wasn’t Ryan, she couldn’t shake the conviction that if she
gave in to him, she’d be falling into the same trap. Making the same mistakes all over again. Giving in to a man who lived his entire life surrounded by violence. How could it not spill over into everyday life?

She pushed her hair out of her face with a sigh, snuggling deeper into the comfort of the afghan, feeling as if she were being torn in two. She wanted him so badly. But she was afraid. Afraid of herself. Afraid of her feelings for Simon. Afraid of… hell, everything.

Ryan had taken so much from her, and she’d let him do it. Which meant that the biggest loss of all was that she no longer trusted her own instincts. At least not when it came to believing someone. Really, truly believing.

“I hope you still drink bourbon,” Simon said, his voice startling her from her reverie. It was almost as if she’d conjured him. “I thought maybe we could use a drink after everything we’ve been through.”

“You thought right.” She nodded, pushing off the afghan as she took the glass from him. “And yes, I still love bourbon.”

A smile ghosted across his face as he sat down next to her. He looked tired, and she resisted the urge to reach out. To try to ease his pain. But she couldn’t stop herself from asking. She’d seen the awful scars on his leg the night before. Seen him wince even in the heat of passion.

“Are you hurting?”

“Always,” he said, his mouth twisting with grim acceptance. “It’s just going to be a part of my life. The new norm.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine…” She trailed off, unsure of what to say. There really weren’t words.

“I was lucky. I know soldiers who’ve come home with
a hell of a lot worse. And some of them,” he paused, looking down into his drink, “like Ryan, didn’t come home at all.”

Silence stretched between them. It seemed that no matter what they said or did, the past was always there between them—waiting to rear its ugly head.

“J.J.—” he started then stopped, lifting his gaze to meet hers on a deep sigh, “we need to talk.”

“I know.” She nodded, taking a sip of her drink. “But it isn’t going to change anything.”

“Maybe not, but I think it’s important to get it all out in the open. If we have any chance of putting this all behind us, we’ve got to be honest with each other.”

“Sometimes honesty is overrated,” she said, thinking about Ryan, about the real truth.

Simon leaned back against the windowsill, his expression resolute. “So if you don’t blame me for Ryan’s death, then why the cold shoulder? Why the distance when things have been so amazing between us?”

She knew it was time for the truth, but he was already shouldering the blame for Ryan’s death, and she hated the idea of adding to his burden. He didn’t deserve that. And she knew that he’d blame himself for what had happened to her for exactly the same reason he held himself responsible for Ryan’s death.

Simon was an honorable man.

“It’s just too much, too soon. I was afraid you’d hurt me again. And I couldn’t deal with that. Not now. Not after Ryan…” She almost said too much, but caught herself, instead taking a long sip of bourbon.

“I hurt you?” He sounded puzzled. And she almost laughed. Something that had been so much a part of her
daily thoughts had meant so little to him he’d completely forgotten.

“Yes. After the night when we first…” She trailed off, embarrassed. “In college. You and I, we…”

“Oh, my God, you’re talking about ten years ago? But you—” He broke off, shaking his head, clearly not sure how to deal with what she was saying.

“I was what?” she asked, her throat tightening, heart pounding.

“You were with Ryan. We never should have… I mean… Jesus, J.J., I…” Pain and remorse and regret played across his face like an emotional marquee.

“But we did. And it was…” It was her turn to trail off, tears pricking the backs of her eyes.

“Fucking amazing,” he finished for her. “I remember.”

“But you picked Ryan,” she said, clenching her fists to keep from crying. Angry that she was still so locked in the past.

“What the hell are you talking about?
You
picked Ryan. You married him.”

“Because you acted like it hadn’t meant anything. You blew me off.”

“I didn’t blow you off,” he said, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he stared down into the depths of his glass. “I walked away. You were drunk. And I took advantage of you. I was being a total prick.”

“I wasn’t that drunk. And did it never occur to you that maybe I wanted to be taken advantage of? Specifically by you?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It didn’t. Like I said, you guys were dating. He was in love with you, J.J. And I thought you were in love with him.”

“Even after we were together?”

“Yes. What else was I to think? You stayed with him. Hell, you married him.”

“Because you rejected me. When we made love, it meant something to me. And when you acted like it never happened, it tore me apart.” Again she was saying more than she wanted to, but he was dredging up old wounds, and she was angry.

“Jesus, J.J.,” he said. He was still using her old name, but somehow in the moment, it didn’t rankle quite as much.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s all screwed up. And it was my fault. I just—God, you’d think this would be easier after all this time, but I cared about you so damn much. It was always you, Simon.”

“Then why marry Ryan?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you didn’t want me, and he did. I was young and really insecure. More so than you can possibly imagine. And he was always so attentive. He made me feel important. Like I was the center of his world. And I’d never felt like that before. But then, that night, when you and I were together, even though I knew what we were doing was wrong, it felt so damn right. I’d wanted you for so long.”

“I wanted you too.” He said the words so softly she almost didn’t hear them. “But Ryan was my best friend.”

“And so he got everything he wanted. And we…” she cut herself off, still not willing to share the worst of it with him, the need to protect him—to protect herself—so powerful it overrode everything else.

“Talk to me, J.J.,” he said, his eyes full of questions. “I understand that I hurt you. But it was a long time ago, and
we’re together now. We’ve been given a second chance. And yet, you still want to walk away. I think I deserve to know why.”

“I told you, it’s too soon. I gave up a lot when I got married.” At least that much was the truth. “And I just found myself again. I don’t want to lose that.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not asking you to change. I think you’re pretty fucking amazing just the way you are.”

“You say that now, but guys like you expect your women to fall in line. Follow the rules. Live according to the military code. And I’m just not sure I’m willing to do that anymore.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Guys like me?” Jillian stepped back, his anger almost palpable, but she forced herself to hold her ground. She wasn’t going to back down for anyone ever again.

“Military men.”

“So what? You’re lumping us all together?”

“No, I… it’s just…” God, she was digging herself a hole there was no escaping from.

“Talk to me.” He reached for her hands, but she pulled away, too agitated to let him soothe her. “Was it something else that I did?” The anger was gone now, his voice colored with dismay and regret.

She couldn’t stand it. None of this was his fault. At least not directly. “No. Simon, it wasn’t you. It was Ryan.”

“Ryan?” If the moment hadn’t been so serious, his surprise would have made her laugh.

“My life with Ryan was hell, okay? Complete and absolute hell. And there’s a part of me that’s glad he’s dead. And I feel so damn guilty about it that most of the time I want to crawl in a hole and die.”

“J.J., I don’t understand.” He looked almost as confused as she felt.

“Jillian,” she said, automatically, “I’m not J.J. anymore.”

“Okay,” he said softly. “Jillian. Talk to me sweetheart. Give me the chance to understand.”

“I tried that five years ago, and you didn’t even bother to call me back.”

For a moment he looked totally confused, then understanding dawned. “We were shipping out. I couldn’t call. Besides, I was determined to keep my distance. I still cared about you. A lot. And I didn’t want my feelings to mess things up for you and Ryan.”

“Oh, God,” she said, burying her face in her hands. “If you only knew how impossible that would have been.”

“So tell me what happened.”

She lifted her head on a sigh. “But you and Ryan were so close, and I…” She trailed off, words failing.

“Ryan is dead, Jillian. Whatever it is you have to say, it can’t hurt him anymore. So just tell me.”

She pulled in a fortifying breath, accepting that he wasn’t going to let it go. Knowing that it would be easier for him to understand her decision if he knew the full truth. All of it.

“Ryan had issues. I think he always did. In the beginning, it was jealousy. Even before we started dating, he was possessive. And he wasn’t very forgiving if he thought I was even looking at someone else.”

“Did he know about what happened? With us that night, I mean?”

“I think so. At least I know he hated it when we were together. Especially when we were alone. But we never
really talked about it. And once I made up my mind to marry him, I thought it would get better.”

“But it didn’t.”

“No.” She shook her head. “He was always looking over my shoulder. He didn’t want me to do anything without him. And when I’d try to do something on my own, he’d find a way to sabotage it. To keep me home with him. At first I thought it was sweet. I mean, what girl doesn’t want to be cherished? But little by little, I realized everyone else was gone from my life. Even you disappeared.”

“J.J.—
Jillian
—you have to know that I had no idea. I only stayed away because I thought it was for the best.”

“I know. And I’m sure Ryan found ways to make you believe that was true.” She took another sip from her drink, needing fortification. “Anyway, I got a reprieve, you guys deployed for the first time. And I convinced myself that the whole thing had been my imagination. That I just needed to work harder at my marriage, to make him understand that I was loyal and that I loved him.”

She leaned back against the sofa, memories threatening, the pain, both physical and emotional, still with her, an unending reminder of everything that had gone wrong. “But after you guys got back from that first tour, it was worse.
He
was worse. Different. War changes a person. I know that. I saw it firsthand with my dad.”

“He was in the Army, right? A Ranger?”

“Yeah. Although I never saw that as a good thing. My dad was a volatile guy by nature. And he always had a tendency to take it out on my mom. But after he’d spent a couple of tours on the front lines, he got worse. It was mainly verbal… I don’t know that he ever actually hit her, but—”

“Oh, my God, Jillian, are you saying…” His hands
clenched as he took in the enormity of what she was telling him.

She nodded, tears filling her eyes. “Ryan hit me.”

“Starting after Iraq?”

“More or less.” She shrugged, unable to look him in the eyes. No matter how many times she’d been told it wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t shake the idea that she’d made it happen somehow. “He hit me once before we were married. But we were fighting, and he was so sorry after the fact. But then after we moved to the base, it was like I couldn’t do anything right. He’d just get angrier and angrier, and then he’d… he’d… hit me.”

“But I never saw any sign. I never even knew there were problems.”

“Mostly because you weren’t around. But also because he played the perfect husband when we were with other people. He didn’t want anyone to know and neither did I. Especially not you. I was so ashamed.” She winced with the memory.

“I’m the one who should have been ashamed. I should have known. Here I’ve been going on about our amazing connection, and I couldn’t see what was happening right in front of me.” He shook his head, his hands still clenched, his eyes filled with disbelief. “He always talked about you. About how much he loved you. About how you were his whole world.”

“I think he did love me. In his own way. But something inside him was broken. And going to war only made it worse.”

“And did you love him?” he asked, the question catching her by surprise.

She paused for a moment, ordering her thoughts. “I
was really young. I don’t know that I truly understood what loving someone really meant. But I suppose, on some level, I did love him. Or at least the man I thought he was. And I tried to be a good wife. It just wasn’t enough. And he didn’t know how to deal with the rage. So he took it out on me.”

“And it kept getting worse.”

“Yes. Every time he’d come home on leave, he was a little quicker to rile. And his anger became more violent.”

“And you think it might have been worsened by PTSD.”

“The thought crossed my mind, but he wouldn’t even entertain the idea. I think he was afraid they’d drum him out of the SEALs.”

“He was probably right,” Simon said.

“Being in the SEALs meant everything to him. But even if they’d been okay with it, I don’t think he’d have gone for help. He didn’t believe he was the problem. As far as he was concerned, it was all my fault. And after a while I started believing that, too.” The tears were falling in earnest now, dripping off her nose.