Collateral Damage (23 page)

“This was on base?” If MPs had gone to get him, everyone on his block would already know about it.

“No, this was at his wife’s sister’s place.”

Oh,
awesome
. Honor rubbed her forehead. “Did a judge set bail or anything?”

“No, and from the looks of things I think they’ll be keeping him at least overnight.”

Hell. “I’ll come down right now.”

“Thanks, ma’am. You were the first person I thought to call.”

“Glad you did. Where are you?” When he told her she consulted her watch. “I’ll be there in twenty.” Hanging up, she looked across the table at Devon. “Speak of the devil.”

“Duty calls?”

“It’s why they pay me the big bucks.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a twenty then tossed it onto the table. “Sorry to run, but I gotta go meet my sergeant. Rain check on the chocolate coma?”

“You bet.” Dev slid out of the booth and hugged her. “Call me anytime you need an ear, okay? And if you want me to knock some sense into Liam next time I hear from him, let me know. I’m totally down for that.”

Honor squeezed her tight. “Thanks. I have a few more rants left in me yet, I’m sure. I’ll call you soon.”

“You better.”

Releasing her, Honor stepped back. “Well, off I go to perform damage control.”

Dev offered an encouraging smile. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”
I have a feeling
I’m gonna need it.

“So what now?” Smithers asked her as they sat in the hospital waiting room. Ipman was currently getting a cast on his hand and they didn’t know how long it would take.

“We take him home to cool off and lie low for a few days,” Honor answered. It’s not like Ipman could return to work with a busted hand anyway.

They’d been damn lucky the judge had agreed to release him on bail in the first place, which she’d paid in an effort to keep things quiet and avoid more people getting involved. Ipman had promised to pay her back the money as soon as possible and while Honor had had initial doubts about springing him from jail, in the end she’d decided it was the right thing to do. There was no way she could not tell command about this, though they’d likely find out anyway, since the local police had good communication with the MPs.

She blew out a breath and leaned her head back against the wall. “Never seen him like that before.” Moody sometimes, sure, but never outright belligerent or hostile. He wasn’t a nice drunk. He’d been mouthing off to the jailers when they’d arrived and it had taken her and Smithers the better part of ten minutes to get him to calm down initially.

“Me neither. Thank God he had the sense to punch the wall and not his wife.”

Honor nodded. And thankfully both the kids had been upstairs napping at the time of the fight. “How bad’s the drinking problem now?” She knew Ipman had a tendency to hit the bottle when things weren’t going well, but overseas that hadn’t been an option for him. Since coming stateside, he’d taken a flying leap off the sobriety wagon.

“He’d go on the occasional bender back before the deployment, but since we’ve been home, nearly every day, especially after work. And then there’ve been the few times he showed up half-tanked,” he added.

Twice Honor had seen him coming back from a mandatory coffee break Smithers had sent him on to sober up. She hadn’t suspected anything was up until she’d gotten close enough to smell the alcohol wafting from his pores. “He’s gotta get help. Command’s going to insist on it if he wants to stay in.” Otherwise he could be looking at a dishonorable discharge.

The big man nodded, a serious frown creasing his brow. “I’ll take him home, get rid of his stash and stay with him tonight. In the morning I’ll make sure he gets in to see a therapist someplace off base.”

Honor clapped a hand on the man’s sturdy shoulder. “You’re a gem, Smithy.”

He ducked his head and grinned, his teeth a startling white against his dark skin. “Aw, come on,” he muttered, clearly embarrassed by the praise.

“It’s the truth.”

They waited another hour until Ipman finally walked out into the waiting area. His short hair was still sticking up all over the place and he had a blue cast from mid-forearm to fingertips on his right hand. The combative, aggressive posture and expression were gone, replaced by slouched shoulders and a sullen look.

When he turned his dark gaze on Honor, however, the bitterness she read there sent a warning tingle up her spine. He clearly knew she would have to report this to command and blamed her for causing him more trouble. Trouble he’d gotten himself into all on his own.

Ignoring that look, she stood. “You done here?” Yeah, she so wasn’t giving him any sympathy. He’d been stupid, plain and simple and he knew it.

He gave a terse nod and glanced away from her. “Just get me home.”

Not exactly the kind of attitude she was looking for, especially after the way she and Smithers had gone out of their way to help him. “Smithers is going to drive you back, but we’ve got a few things to set straight first.”

At that Ipman faced her fully and hit her with a glare so hostile that Smithers made an irritated sound and stepped in front of her. “You cut that shit right now, soldier,” he warned. “Ms. Girard just bailed your drunk ass out of jail, in case you forgot.”

Ipman’s gaze shifted to his sergeant. “And now she’s gonna report me.”

“You gave her no choice and the cops are gonna report you anyway,” Smithers said in disgust. “You’d best think about that, and how you’re gonna fix the mess you’ve gotten yourself into. Because tomorrow reality’s gonna hit you right between the eyes and I’m gonna be there to drive it home, even if it’s with the toe of my boot up your ass.”

It was a good speech and Honor appreciated the show of concern but she didn’t need Smithers to protect her, least of all from Ipman. “There’ll be a meeting in the morning,” she said to Ipman now, asserting her authority and letting him know his anger didn’t faze her one iota. “Sarn’t Smithers is staying with you tonight—”

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” he snapped.

“Yeah, that’s
exactly
what you need,” she fired back, “because you’ve just proven you’re incapable of handling yourself responsibly.”

His gaze was so cold it burned and again she was startled by the hostility radiating from him. He didn’t even seem like the same man she’d had lunch with at Bagram a few short weeks ago. Yeah he could be somewhat unpredictable in his moods, but before now she never would have said he was dangerous to anyone. Apparently she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought.

“You don’t know shit about what it’s like to go through something like this,” he muttered, switching back to sullen again. His quicksilver shifts reminded her of Charity. Honor would make sure a psych eval was recommended.

Honor held his gaze, refusing to look away. She knew a helluva lot more about family conflict and nursing a broken heart than he realized, so she didn’t bother responding to his woe-is-me comment. He was being a prick anyway and was bound to become an even bigger one if she engaged.

“This is on you, Ipman. Bottom line, you need to decide what you want out of life going forward. You want to be chaptered out with a dishonorable discharge, maybe lose your chance at partial custody of your girls? Because that’s where you’re headed. Better do some deep thinking about that over the next few hours.” She didn’t bother trying to blunt her words. He didn’t deserve her kindness right now and he needed to understand that she wouldn’t be intimidated or spoken to with that kind of disrespect, out of uniform or not.

He looked away, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “I wanna go home.”

Honor stared at him for another long moment, just to prove the point that she wouldn’t be cowed, then turned her attention to Smithers. The man was a freaking saint. She was lucky to have him as a senior NCO. “Go ahead. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do, ma’am.”

Outside in the fading afternoon sunlight she stopped to expel a long breath and let the warm breeze wash over her. She was halfway to her car across the parking lot when her cell vibrated in her pocket briefly, signaling an incoming text. Fishing it out, her heart did a crazy cartwheel against her ribs when she saw the familiar number displayed.

You there?

At first she thought she must be hallucinating. But nope, the same message was still there when she unlocked the screen.

“I’m here, but there’s no way I’m answering,”
she muttered to herself as she used the keyfob to remotely unlock her door
.
Her phone buzzed again moments later.

I’m in town for a bit. Can we talk?

A cool breeze picked up, blowing some hair across her face but she didn’t move, still staring at her phone. Liam was back? If he wanted to talk so bad, why hadn’t he at least warned her he was coming back? Even if it was a last minute thing, he’d have known for a couple days at least.

For a second she debated ignoring the new message, then dismissed the idea. She didn’t play games but this was about self-preservation and he needed to know where he stood with her. Which was at the bottom of a shit pile. They weren’t in a relationship anymore, so she owed him nothing. He thought he could roll back into town after weeks of silence and expect her to be willing to talk? Nuh-uh.

Not interested,
she texted back, not bothering with niceties. Since her lunch had been so rudely interrupted, her afternoon had gone to hell and this wasn’t helping. And dammit, why was part of her even curious what he wanted this time? What the hell was it gonna take to make her stop being a glutton for punishment?

Her phone rang with an incoming call a second later.

A surge of satisfaction hit her.
“
Getting frustrated, Liam?”
Too bad.

On the second ring Honor set her jaw and silenced the call, unwilling to answer because she had nothing nice to say and dreaded the sound of his voice. Plus she was sick to death of the drama, the ups and downs they’d put each other through. Enough already.

Don’t feel like talking to you
, she responded by text instead, punching the keys with more force than necessary.

Really need to talk to you
, he insisted.

Her lips thinned.
There’s nothing left for either of us to say.
He’d made his feelings clear when he’d walked out of her hut that night. Message received. She wasn’t going to let him keep screwing with her head.

Her phone was silent for a long moment. Then,
Please?

She huffed out a breath. He thought it was that damn easy?
NO.

I’m not giving up until you talk to me.

Honor scowled at the screen. He thought he could bully her into talking? She typed in her response.
Good luck with that.

Can I come see you then?

Her eyes bugged out. The balls. The sheer
balls
of the man. Outraged swamped her. He wanted to see her as in, see her alone? Because that had gone
so
well for
her
last time. His lame-ass apology in his first e-mail to her didn’t make up for his actions.

Yeah, she could imagine how he envisioned that scenario playing out. He thought he could waltz back into her life for another booty call while he was in town, because she couldn’t resist him?
Her answer was immediate and heartfelt.

NO
, she typed.
“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath.
She was through letting him fuck with her, literally and figuratively.

Just to talk
, he sent back quickly.

Yeah, right. They couldn’t be in the same room without sparks flying between them, and he knew it.

Not interested. Enjoy the rest of your visit. Bye.

With that she silenced her phone and shoved it back into her jeans pocket. She didn’t care if he blew up her phone with a thousand texts and voicemails for the rest of the night; she was done.

Even though she meant it, a heavy ache settled beneath her sternum. Scowling, she climbed behind the wheel and turned up the radio to try and drown out her thoughts as she drove home. Except the freaking radio was against her today too, apparently, because every station she turned to kept playing songs that reminded her of Liam.

Punching the off button, she finished the rest of the drive in silence and forced herself to soak in the simple pleasures around her. It was a beautiful, clear evening in the Pacific Northwest and anyone who lived here knew it wouldn’t last so she should be savoring it.

As she drove she reminded herself of all the good things in her life. She had her health, a career she loved despite occasional shitty incidents like the one she’d just experienced with Ipman, and good friends who cared about her. Sure she was still trying to heal from the damage her family and the breakup with Liam had inflicted, but she was strong and she’d gotten through it once, so she could do it again.

Already feeling better, she pulled into her driveway and hit the brakes so hard the car rocked when she saw the flowers sitting on her front stoop. Swallowing, she got out of the car and walked up the front walkway. Wrapped in a layer of clear cellophane, the artfully arranged bouquet of pale pink roses were studded with baby’s breath and greenery. They were her favorites.

Reaching down, her fingers were slightly unsteady as she pulled the card free and opened the tiny envelope. The sight of Liam’s strong scrawl on the card was yet another jab to her heart.

Miss you. Hope to see you soon. L

The back of her throat began to sting. He’d
missed
her? What the hell? Did he mean since that night at Bagram, or in general since the breakup? Her eyebrows drew together as she tried to decipher the meaning of the words. It could be a simple apology or it could mean a lot more.

As soon as the thought entered her mind she wanted to slap herself.
No.
She would
not
drive herself insane trying to guess whatever his motive was. He’d had plenty of chances to get back together with her before. What made this time any different?