The Final Line (37 page)

Their rhythm sped up, Sean moving hard and fast against him. Corey’s balls lifted and his climax unspooled from deep inside. His chest hurt. He wanted to say something, make a joke that would have them both laughing and ease this intense ache. Instead, Sean kissed the top of Corey’s head.

The tender touch was Corey’s undoing. A shudder ran through him and Corey was mortified when he sobbed against Sean’s neck.

“I know, baby. Me, too. Me, too.” Sean whispered against Corey’s hair, running his hands soothingly over Corey’s back.

Corey’s orgasm slammed into him like a storm driven wave. He clung to Sean, his cock pulsing as his balls pumped hot spunk into the condom. Corey cried out desperately, pressing his forehead to Sean’s collarbone as he helplessly rode out his climax. Sean’s touch and his softly spoken words frightened Corey at the same time as he felt loved and cherished.

In the four years he was with Katherine, Corey had
never
felt this way.

As his body became his own again, Corey left his face pressed to the moist skin of Sean’s shoulder. He breathed shakily against Sean’s chest. Sean wrapped his arms around Corey, held him close and rocked them gently, side to side.

His breathing calmed and Corey could hear Sean’s heart racing in his chest. He placed a soft kiss on Sean’s shoulder and pulled back slowly. Sean exhaled harshly. Corey was afraid to look into Sean’s face. He needed to see his own feelings reflected in Sean’s expression and he was afraid he wouldn’t anymore.

Corey swallowed hard. He chanced a glance at Sean’s face and was surprised to find him looking hesitant and almost shy. Sean wet his lower lip nervously. Corey replayed the last few moments in his head and remembered Sean calling him ‘baby’. He’d always hated that pet name; it made him
feel
like a baby and Corey was anything but a child. When Sean had said it, though, Corey had felt…
loved
.

Corey grasped Sean’s face between both hands and kissed him. He didn’t have words to say what he was feeling, or how strongly he felt it. So he took action. Corey had always been better at doing than at saying.

Sean kissed him back with just a hint of desperation. There was relief there, too. Corey told Sean everything in that kiss. He put everything he couldn’t say into that kiss and hoped Sean would understand.

Me, too
Sean had said. He’d said
me, too
, as if he already understood how Corey felt, and even felt the very same way.

When Corey finally broke the kiss, Sean looked dazed. He smiled lazily and flushed bright red.

“Let me get rid of the condom and we can get some sleep,” Sean said, slurring slightly.

Corey got up and straightened the bed. When Sean emerged with a damp cloth, there was a small skirmish over which of them got to clean Corey. Pretending to surrender, Corey let Sean have his victory. Sean returned to the bathroom and Corey crawled beneath the covers. He lay back against the pillows and examined his prescription bottle that contained the sleep aid. He didn’t think it would be necessary tonight, he felt strangely peaceful.

When Sean emerged from the bathroom, he shut out all the lights and crawled into bed beside Corey.

“Gonna take one of those?” Sean asked softly.

“No,” Corey said, setting the bottle on the bedside table. He settled back onto the pillows next to Sean. He could feel the heat of Sean’s body across the slight distance that separated them. His hands itched to touch but he couldn’t tell if Sean wanted that. “I shouldn’t have a problem falling asleep.”

“Come ’ere,” Sean whispered. He reached across Corey’s body and tugged at his arm, urging him to turn over.

Corey’s heart leapt. He rolled onto his side and pressed himself against Sean’s side. With a gentle hand on his head, Sean guided Corey to use his chest as a pillow. Corey draped an arm over Sean and tried not to seem like he was clinging. Sean’s heartbeat was strong and steady beneath Corey’s ear.

“Is there something we should talk about?” Sean asked in a soft voice.

Corey tensed. Sean’s words,
Me, too
echoed in Corey’s memory. He wanted to know if Sean had meant what Corey thought he had, but he was afraid what the truth might be. Corey swallowed hard.

“No,” Corey answered roughly, “I don’t need to talk.”

“Are you sure?” Sean pressed. “You had a flashback, tonight. Isn’t there something you need to discuss?”

A chill ran the length of Corey’s spine. Of course Sean meant the flashback. Fuck. Corey had almost humiliated himself.

“Oh—no, I’m fine now,” Corey said hesitantly. “I know what caused it. I’ll talk to my counselor at my next appointment, work on ways to prevent it from happening again.”

Sean idly dragged his fingertips along Corey’s spine. He pressed his lips to the top of Corey’s head. “Let me know if you change your mind.” Sean paused so long, Corey thought the conversation was over. “Did you think there was something else I wanted to talk about?”

“No,” Corey answered quickly. Too quickly. He took a deep breath. “Is there anything
you
want to talk about?”

If it weren’t for Sean’s fingers on his back, Corey would have thought he’d fallen asleep. “You had an emotional night—the flashback, stressing about your body’s reactions, our shouting match. Things happen in the heat of the moment.” Sean sighed explosively. “I’m not making any assumptions, I guess is what I’m trying to say.”

Corey thought his heart had stopped. He leaned up onto his elbow, straining to see Sean’s eyes in the dim light from the window.

“What?” Sean asked, sounding worried.

“Me, too,” Corey answered breathlessly.

“What?” This time Sean sounded confused.

“What did you mean when you said, ‘me, too’?” Corey hoped Sean couldn’t hear the quaver in his voice. His stomach plummeted when Sean didn’t answer right away.

“What do you think I meant?” Sean finally asked.

The words stuck in Corey’s throat.

Sean moved restlessly beneath him. “Nothing. I didn’t mean anything. Heat of the moment.”

Corey could hear the disappointment in Sean’s voice. He stopped the painful words the only way he could think of. He pressed his mouth awkwardly to Sean’s. For the first few moments, Sean didn’t respond. Then, his hands grasped Corey’s head and held him steady. His lips parted, his tongue snaking out and seeking Corey’s.

Pulling back on a gasp, Corey whispered, “Me, too.”

“Okay, good,” Sean said brokenly, bringing their mouths together again.

Corey wrapped his arms around Sean and held him close as they kissed. Christ. He’d never felt like this before. If Sean felt even half as strongly as Corey did, shit just got complicated. There was so goddamn much going on in his life, how the hell could he be what Sean needed him to be?

When he finally broke the kiss, Corey hid his face in the sweaty hair behind Sean’s ear.

“I’m so glad we had this talk,” Sean said before he burst into giddy laughter.

Corey joined in, the pressure in his chest easing enough to let him sleep, nightmare free.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Corey sat at the conference table, dressed in his olive green service uniform. His coat was neatly folded over the back of the chair beside him. Captain Hirata was seated on Corey’s other side, removing documents from an accordion folder and spreading them out on the table.

“I don’t understand, sir,” Corey said, furrowing is brow in confusion. “I wasn’t involved in the exchange of fire with the occupants of the hostile vehicle.”

“We know, Corey.” It was Agent Hoffman who answered. “But you dealt with the aftermath, so we need you to help us piece together what really happened.”

Corey let his eyes move over the familiar photos, dread settling like a lead weight in his gut. “The lieutenant covered up what really happened. He covered up the actions of my fellow Marines.” He felt like the whole world had gone insane when he wasn’t looking.

“It’s possible the lieutenant issued orders in a moment of confusion,” said Captain Evans. “The Marines might have mistakenly opened fire. If there were errors in judgment, or panic and confusion, that would be understandable. Unfortunate, but understandable. If that was the case, the lieutenant should have owned up to it, as a man and as an officer.”

“Covering up what happened destroys everyone’s credibility, Corey,” Hirata said quietly.

Corey ran an agitated hand over his forehead. “Is it possible the platoon didn’t know the lieutenant covered everything up? Is it possible they don’t even realize they did anything wrong?”

“It’s possible,” Hoffman replied. “That’s the approach we took when we opened the investigation. But it’s not looking like that’s what happened.”

Corey opened the bottle of water that was on the table in front of him. He took a long swallow, washing down the rising bile.

“For what it’s worth, Corey, we know this isn’t easy for you,” Hirata said. “We have no desire to scapegoat enlisted Marines. But we’re not going to let anyone get away with dishonoring the Corps.”

Corey nodded, reluctantly agreeing. “Anyone who acted without honor deserves to be punished, sir. I just really don’t like the idea that Marines with whom I have served would behave this way.”

“We understand that, Staff Sergeant.” Captain Evans looked at Corey with compassion. “It’s not lost on any of us.”

Corey cleared his throat. “So, what do you need me to do?”

“Let’s start with you leaving the structure and returning to the Humvees and the scene of the IED blast,” replied Hoffman.

Hirata slid a copy of Corey’s after-action across the table. It was heavily annotated, including Corey’s own marks to show what had been altered. Corey recounted how he took three Marines with him when he headed back to where the rest of the platoon had secured the Humvees and engaged the hostile white vehicle.

Corey ran a hand over his suddenly dry lips. He took a sip of water so he could continue. His heart raced and sweat broke out along his hairline. The memory of his actions was more vivid than it had been since the day of the actual events. Unlike every other time he’d recalled his actions of that time, it had been like he was viewing things through a filter.

“I’m going to stop you here, Staff Sergeant.” Captain Evans interrupted Corey’s recollections. “Wouldn’t it have been SOP to raise your lieutenant on comms, update your status, and request someone respond to your location with the appropriate number of body bags?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Corey answered. “But I remember needing to advise the lieutenant of something that I didn’t want to broadcast on comms. I needed more than body bags. I needed additional Marines and for my platoon commander to—” He couldn’t remember what he needed from the LT but now, Corey remembered feeling like he was in way over his head.

He looked down to find his hands were trembling.

“Are you okay, Staff Sergeant?” Captain Hirata asked.

Corey cleared his throat. “I’m fine, sir.”

“Resume your narrative, Staff Sergeant,” said Captain Evans. “You needed to make contact with Lieutenant Adams. You and three of your Marines returned to the line of Humvees. What happened then?”

Captain Hirata slid a stack of photographs in front of Corey. Glancing through the photos, Corey recognized most of them. He could also conjure actual memories of the same scenes, now. Corey viewed the events of the remainder of that day with the additional knowledge of what had really happened to the vehicle occupants.

“A secure perimeter was in place,” he recounted. “A team of Marines surrounded a white compact car. Lieutenant Adams and several more Marines stood over the corpses of four Afghan males.”

“Do any of the photos before you accurately depict how those bodies were laid out when you first rejoined the platoon?” This question was from Agent Hoffman.

Corey went through the color photographs. He’d seen most of them before. He’d seen far worse things in reality, than were captured in those photos. He didn’t know why bile rose in his throat this time.

He pulled out a few photos that showed the four men laid out on their backs, lined up side-by-side. Handing the pictures to Agent Hoffman, Corey blurted, “I should have noticed. I let my situational awareness slip.”

Hoffman looked puzzled as he took the photos. If he noticed Corey’s trembling hand, he gave no sign. “What do you mean, Staff Sergeant?” he asked.

“When the lieutenant said the occupants of the vehicle had opened fire on the platoon and had been killed in the ensuing firefight, I didn’t question his story.” Corey clenched his fists on the table in front of him. “The bodies were laid out like they would have been if they’d been pulled from the vehicle after the battle. If I had paid attention to details like I should have, I would have noticed the corpses showed no combat wounds.”

“What about the white car?” Hoffman asked. “Did you observe any damage that appeared to have occurred during a firefight?”

Corey glanced away and pictured the scene. “Bullet holes and shattered glass.” He quickly thumbed through the stack of photos until he found one that matched his mental picture. “There shouldn’t have been shattered glass. If the occupants had started a firefight, they would have had the windows rolled down.” Why hadn’t Corey noticed that before?

Hoffman nodded as he took the picture. “You have once again independently confirmed an important detail for us, Staff Sergeant.”

That was a small consolation.

“What was on your mind at that moment, Staff Sergeant?” asked Captain Hirata. “What were you thinking about when Lieutenant Adams gave you his account of what had happened?”

“That I needed the LT to return to the residence with me. Something significant had to be handled.” Corey stared at the table in front of him without seeing it. “I was pissed off,” Corey caught himself. “I beg your pardon, ma’am,” he said with contrition, glancing at Captain Evans, “I was angry. I was outraged. There was someone on my team I wanted to hurt, but I knew I couldn’t do that. I had to hand this off to my platoon commander.”

“Can you recall any of those details, yet?” Captain Evans asked.