Devil’s in the Details (34 page)

I turned too quickly to see her jaw clench up and her face twist. The next thing I knew, her hand was on my bicep, gently pulling me back to her, to face her.

"Victoria?"

The last few syllables of her name were muffled as she covered my mouth with hers, kissing me hard and deep, as she pulled me into her body. I half grunted when our bodies met, but didn't stop kissing her. Reaching up, I ran my hands over her neck and to the back of her head, holding her as we kissed hungrily. Something was different about Victoria in the way she kissed me. It was if she needed to kiss me, that she needed to feel connected to me. I tried to think about what could be bothering her, but lost all train of thought when her tongue met mine at the same time she grabbed my hips.

Pushing me towards the kitchen counter, Victoria lifted me up in one quick movement and sat me on the counter. My legs instinctively opened to allow her to stand between them. Her hands moving from my hips to the edge of the plain white tank top I wore.

I moaned against her mouth when I felt her warm hands slide up underneath the material, gathering it as she slid her hands and the thin tank top up my body. Making me shiver from the cool air hitting my skin and what I knew was coming. I pushed harder against her mouth, my hands moving to her sides and then to her back, pushing Victoria forward, deeper into me. Only moving them when Victoria's hands motioned for me to lift my arms up to remove the tank top.

We broke apart, breathing heavily as she threw my tank top on the floor, her eyes roaming my body with so much intensity, it made my throat dry. I tried to look her in her eyes, but couldn't catch them. "Victoria..."

My voice broke her trance, she glanced up to look in my eyes. There was a storm of desire, fear, pain, love and something else hiding in the slate grey irises of the woman. I went to reach for her face, when she lunged at me again. Kissing me hard again, not in a way that hurt, but in a way that she needed this and the only way she could communicate it was silently. I couldn't resist and melted back into her as I felt her fingertips graze the skin on my back and up to where my bra clasp sit. I grabbed her sides harder when I felt the bra release and Victoria's hands move it forward.

I was on the verge of losing control, my body was becoming overwhelmed with the sensations of her kissing me, her bare hands on my bare skin and how it felt exactly as I imagined it. I bit her bottom lip, hearing her moan into my mouth and slip her hands under the bra.

When her palms fell to the side of my breasts, I couldn't hold back. I wanted to feel her against me, skin to skin. I ached to feel her breasts against mine, run my fingers over her stomach and further down. I wanted to know if I was doing the same things to her that she was doing to me, lighting my entire body on fire in ways no one else could. I wanted to know what she felt like, tasted like, and I wanted her to do the same to me.

I dropped my hands to the waist of her jeans, reaching for the hem of her shirt. I wanted to tear it off, but didn't. My hands moved slow due to the overload of pleasure the rest of my body was experiencing. My fingers dipped under Victoria's shirt, grazing the thick patch of skin I had felt a few days ago. Making my brain shift out of pleasure town and back into logical nurse brain. I suddenly had a curiosity that could not be avoided.

Pressing my fingertips against the one ridge, I could almost feel it was a burn scar, but as quickly as my hand touched the rough patch, it was covered by Victoria’s and pulled away from her skin. She placed my hand on the edge of the kitchen counter, and returned to the business of slowly removing my bra.

Even through the haze of her delicious and intoxicating kisses, my mind was still curious. I bit her lip again, pushing my mouth hard against hers to distract her and moved my hands back to her shirt, once again moving to that part of her back that was as much of a mystery as she was.

And once again, Victoria's hand covered mine and move it back to the counter. This time holding it there as she used one hand to try and remove my bra. This was where my gut, my brain, and the other body parts that were on fire and needed release, all came together and threw up a red flag.

I bent away from Victoria's mouth, breathing heavily, and kissed up her neck until I was next to her ear, whispering, "Let me touch you, Victoria."

I instantly felt her body stiffen up and her movements hesitate, but she said nothing. Moving back into my space, holding my hand tighter against the counter she moved away from my bra and towards the top of the loose sweatpants I had thrown on. It was her way of distracting me.

This time it was I who grabbed her hand before it dipped to where I ached for her, gently holding her hand from going any further. I leaned back away from the woman. Her face was flushed just as much as mine was. The air thick with heat and desire, but there was something off. Bending to look at her eyes, I found the courage to ask, "What are you hiding? It's just a scar, nothing more."

I watched as Victoria's jaw twitched tightly. "Alex." Her voice was soft but had that same tone it did that day I tried to kiss her and she rejected me. "Please don't."

I squeezed her hand as I pulled it up to place it on my almost bare chest over my heart. "Do you feel how hard you make my heart race?"

Victoria's hands trembled as I held it there, "You're safe here. You're safe in my heart and my arms." I swallowed hard, fighting so many emotions, fearing that Victoria was about to retreat like she had so long ago. Retreat because I was getting to close to something that scared her. "There's no reason to be afraid of this, of me. I won't ever hurt you."

Victoria went to step away, slowly pulling her hand free from under mine, "I'm not worried about you hurting me." Her voice was a half whisper as she kept her head down.

I caught her wrist before her entire arm was lost to me, the words rushing out faster than I could stop them, "You can't hurt me, Victoria. I love you."

It was as if an anvil had fallen between us, sucking all of the air out of the room. I felt her stiffen up in my grasp as she pulled my hand free from her arm, not daring to look at me, Victoria shook her head as I saw the tears stream down her face, "Don't Alex." The way she said it, sounded like a warning mixed with a plea.

Reaching out to her, I realized my mistake in telling her I loved her so soon. I had loved her for as long as I could remember her being in my life, but I spilled it out of my mouth in the heat of passion like a silly teenager. "Victoria, wait...I."

I couldn't finish, Victoria shook her head, "It's not safe to love me." She suddenly turned away from me and rushed out of my apartment, slamming the door behind her. Leaving me half naked and disheveled on the kitchen counter as the smell of burning nachos and confusion filled the air.

I sat on that counter for what felt like hours, staring off into space. Tears filling my eyes before I slid off it, picked up my tank top and put it back on before turning off the oven. After I set the blackened nachos on the top of the stove, I walked straight to my laptop and turned it on.

My fingers trembled and stumbled as I typed her name and the name of the silver coin into the web search engine. Hesitating only a second before I clicked on her name and let the monitor fill up with news articles that were almost ten years old, all of them about a Lieutenant Victoria Bancroft and her actions in Baghdad.

I clenched my jaw, knowing this would add fuel to the fire I didn't start, but it was time. I had to know who I was in love with.

I had perfected the art of silent crying years ago, but was failing at it now as I raced back to my house, letting out all of the emotions I had bottled up from the job and from what just happened in Alex's apartment. I sobbed openly for the first time in years, gasping for air as I drove the BMW as fast as I could back home.

I pulled the car into the garage so I could avoid Dale and Mary poking their heads out or coming over to drop off the mail. I grabbed my bags and went inside. After throwing them into the laundry room I headed down into my basement, only pausing to drop my phone on the desk in the den.

My basement was the one place I would go to when I wanted absolute peace from the world I lived in. It was finished as a library and small bar area. It was where I kept my extra text books for class and the other texts I used to write tests and hand out assignments to my students. It was also where I buried my past in the far closet next to the bar.

Alex would be calling and texting in the next few minutes and I knew it would be best to leave it, and her, alone for a while. If I didn't, I knew I would say something, or do something, that would ensure Alex would never love me. I was afraid that I would return to being the woman she had almost given up on a few days ago. As much as the one side of me knew it was what I should do, hearing her say that she loved me and that she would always keep me safe, frightened the hell out of me.

Then Maura popped into my head, her Irish accented voice repeating the words she had said moments before I killed her.

“When she finds out the truth, she will despise your meager existence.”

Then my heart spoke up and told me to prove her wrong. I had to prove to everyone including myself wrong. I could love Alex and I could keep her safe, I just had to figure out how, and that's why I left. Instinct from years of being alone and keeping people at a distance took over, and I walked away.

Walking over to the bar when I was in the basement, I grabbed the large bottle of vintage bourbon on the top shelf. After pouring a very full glass, I moved to the closet and opened it. Revealing all of my old uniforms, fatigues and the other remnants of the war I had shoved in there when I moved in. After taking three or four large sips of the bourbon, I grabbed the grey plastic bin on the bottom of the closet and dragged it out to the middle of the room. I dragged it over to the large leather couch and sat down. Drinking more of the bourbon, I flipped open the lid and stared at the contents.

Large stacks of newspaper clippings from that day on top of the framed certificates from my medals. I lifted them out one by one, my jaw clenching tighter as each old memory was brought back. Tucked in with the stack of memories, was a plastic bag full of my unit's patches I cut off my destroyed uniform, and saved, as I was taken out of Baghdad and back to a safe zone.

Underneath that was another plastic bag of my old Lieutenant bars, and ribbons from my dress uniform tucked in with a picture of the day I received my last two medals from the President and the current CIA Director. In the picture, I still had the bruises on my face, the stitches on my forehead and bottom lip. I had to lean on Dani who stood next to me, for support. I tried to smile that day, but was still in pain. Mentally and physically to want to pretend any harder than I was.

I ran my finger over the image, stopping as I saw the old man and the old lady in the background standing next to the Secretary of Defense and that one Colonel from the Army Intelligence Unit, who I still hated to this day.

After tossing the pictures and bags to the side next to me, I reached deep into the bottom of the bin, pulling out the copy of the mission that had gone so wrong. A copy only one other person knew I had, because they gave it to me. Opening the file, I felt the tears rise as I read my medical file from the US Army doctors who treated me, reading terms such as 
"Excessive second degree burns, puncture wounds from a knife or spike in lower back, with heavy loss of blood. There are also lingering signs of starvation and dehydration."

Followed by the psychiatrists notes of, 
"Severe case of PTSD evolving, also a severe case of detachment from psychological manipulation or torture. As if the patients ability to feel empathy or apathy was removed leading to the frenzied state the rescue team found her in. Will have to look further into the mission notes, patient was held in grueling conditions for a lengthy amount of time."
 

My heart felt like lead, my eyes began to well up and I let the tears free. How would I ever explain any of this to Alex? Show Alex any of this? And then tell her what followed after. Who I became. What I became.

Flipping to the pictures of my injuries, I heard my side door creak open. I shot my head up as I reached under the couch and wrapped my hand around one of the .40 caliber handguns I kept hidden around the house. Pointing it up at the staircase, I listened as the steps moved closer.

"FedEx delivery, I found the garage door and side door open. I've called the police."