Away From You (Back To You Book 2) (9 page)

*

The next few
weeks were monotonous. We rode the bus from our tent to the flight line, worked
on any jet that happened to need work done, and then rode the bus home. I read
a lot, since there wasn’t much else to do when I was off work and not at the
gym. I had much longer days on the boat, so I was glad to actually have some
down time. The extra gym hours didn’t hurt, either. Most of the guys here were
pretty ripped, I noticed.

I talked to
Olivia once a day. It was great to be able to hear her voice, but sometimes it
made things harder. She talked to me about hanging out with our friends and
family and it made me wish that I were there. For some reason emails didn’t
have the same effect on me. Maybe talking on the phone made her seem closer
than she really was. It was a painful reminder that she was home doing all of
the things I wished I could be doing.

As if to
wipe away my depressing thoughts, I rubbed my hands over my freshly shaven
head. As Marines, we were expected to get a fresh haircut once a week. Back
home, Olivia cut my hair every Sunday night. Out here, it was much easier to
just shave my head myself instead of take the bus to the barber for the
traditional fade that a lot of Marines got.

“Dude.”
Brooks muttered from the bunk beside mine. His tone was confused. “I don’t know
what day it is.”

I shook my
head at him. “Monday. That’s an easy one. You spent all day in bed yesterday.
What day could you have done that other than Sunday?”

“Good point.
Except that I spent most of the day napping, so I feel like it was actually
multiple, really boring days.”

Before I had
a chance to respond, a loud siren went off outside our tent. The tone and pitch
of the wailing alarm sent chills down my spine. I’d been on vacation in Hawaii
once when they had a tsunami warning, and this bell sounded a lot like that
one. It signaled that something – or someone – was coming. Brooks
shot me a look that could only be described as fear. There were a few different
types of alarms that they used to alert the base. This one signaled a rocket
attack.

The
automated voice of a British woman came over the speakers. The voice was
monotonous and creepy. “Rocket attack. Rocket attack. Rocket attack.”

Just as we
were trained, we dropped to the floor and got into prone position, lying on our
stomachs with our arms over our heads. I turned my face toward Brooks. He
looked scared. I wondered if I looked scared. The sirens were still going and
the British lady was still repeating the same words. Her voice made the whole
thing sound like something out of a sci-fi movie. I could feel thoughts of
Olivia fluttering around the edges of my mind, but I pushed her back out. I had
to concentrate. I couldn’t think about her right then.

“Get up and
get to the bunker.” A gruff voice from behind us ordered.

Brooks and I
looked at each other and then back at the Marine standing by the door. I
remembered that if the sirens were still going after two minutes we were
supposed to take cover in the concrete bunkers peppered throughout the base.
There was a bunker about twenty yards from our tent. I couldn’t hear any shots
or explosions, so my fear that we were going to get blown up on the way there
felt pretty irrational. It was still there, though, making my limbs feel heavy
as I got off the ground and prepared to walk out into the open.

Outside the
tent, several others were jogging toward the bunker and Brooks and I fell in
stride with them. I couldn’t help but scan the horizon for smoke or other signs
of an explosion. Right when I reached the door of the bunker, I thought I saw a
column of black smoke rising up from the flight line. I stopped to take a
closer look but the guy behind me shoved me into the cramped space.

“This is
bullshit.”

I turned to
see an airman with half of his face covered in shaving cream and a razor in his
hand.

“I know,
man. Another day, another rocket.” Another airman replied.

“This
happens a lot?” I asked them.

The first
guy with the razor nodded. “All the time. At first we looked like you guys, all
scared and shit, but now we’re used to it.”

Brooks
cocked a brow. “Excuse us for being a little concerned about the rocket attack
in progress.”

Brooks was a
big dude. At six and a half feet tall, most people had to look up to him. Including
me, standing at an even six feet. The fact that he worked out constantly and
his biceps were bigger than my head made most people avoid pissing him off.
Apparently, this guy hadn’t gotten the memo. I couldn’t decide whether I was
impressed or whether I was looking at the biggest idiot I’d seen all day.

“I thought
you Marines were supposed to be all big and bad.” His tone and posture were
aggressive, so I decided he was an idiot.

A lot of
Marines talked down on the other branches because their training wasn’t as
rigorous as ours. It wasn’t my style to do that. We were all serving, after
all. A little bit of competition between branches was normal, but this guy was
trying to be insulting. The stereotype that all Marines were just a bunch of
Jarheads annoyed me to no end.

I crossed my
arms over my chest, hoping that my body would convey that it was time to shut up.
“I thought all you Air Force guys were supposed to be smart. Clearly, you’re
not.”

The airman
snorted. “I joined the right branch. At least I’m not a bullet sponge like your
dumb ass.”

If Brooks
hadn’t swung, I would have. His fist connected with a loud crunch as blood
spurted out of the airman’s nose. His buddies, who were watching this exchange
as if it were a championship tennis match, were frozen in place. They stared
slack-mouthed at Brooks as he swung again and again. It all happened so fast
that Brooks had gotten in three solid punches before we could get them apart. I
grabbed his arm and hauled him into the concrete wall behind him. His
adrenaline was pumping and it took all of my strength to pin him there on my
own. If I was being honest, he was probably letting me. I was pretty strong and
all, but I doubted I could hold Brooks by myself if he really wanted to get
passed me.

“Enough,
enough,” I growled as he tried to break from my grasp.

I checked
over my shoulder and saw the airman’s buddies helping him off the ground. His
nose was clearly broken and there was a gash over his left eye. They shot us
wary looks as they ushered him to the other end of the bunker. There were about
a dozen other guys around us in the small space, some of whom I recognized as
sailors from our ship. No one moved to approach us. Brooks shook me off and
began to pace the width of the bunker. He looked like a caged animal.

A new voice
came over the speaker. “Message from the J-Dock. The situation is ongoing.
Please remain in your shelters.”

I groaned
inwardly. It was going to be a long afternoon.

Olivia

“Hey, Mom.” I walked into the kitchen
of my mother’s house and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Where’s Dad?”

“He’s
working late.” She bustled around the kitchen preparing dinner for us. It
smelled amazing. I watched as she stirred the chili that I knew had probably
been simmering on the stove all day. My mom was a fantastic cook. She’d been
encouraging me to help her with dinner for most of my life, and Matt benefited
from that practice now that we lived together.

“Bummer.
Well, I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve been able to come by for dinner.
School has kept me really busy.”

Mom smirked
at me. “Honey, you were here three days ago.”

I crinkled
my brow. I could’ve sworn it had been at least a week. “Wow. Time is just
flying
by.”

“I know it
sometimes seems like the days are going slow, but Matt will be home before you
know it. Trust me.”

I did trust
her. After being an Air Force wife for the majority of her life, my mom was no
stranger to deployments. In fact, neither was I. But it felt different being
the wife rather than the child of a deployed service member. I hoped to one day
be as calm about it as she was. This first one was kicking my butt. Granted,
nursing school was also kicking my butt, so I wasn’t sure which stressor was
worse at the moment.

“I know.
It’s just hard.”

Mom nodded
knowingly and patted my shoulder. “Grab the block of cheddar from the fridge
and shred it for me, okay?”

I mock
saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“So, what’s
new with Matt? I’m so glad you get to talk to him as often as you do. I’m sure
that really helps.”

“Yeah,” I
agreed, washing my hands at the kitchen sink. I took the cheese out of the
fridge and hunted through a drawer for the grater. “It helps a lot. Especially
when he has interesting stories to tell me. For example, apparently they get
rocket attacks pretty frequently on the base over there.”

Mom’s
eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”

“Yep! And I
only found out about that because he was telling me about a fight that his
buddy got into when they were in a bunker, and I asked why they were in the
bunker in the first place, so he told me. I could tell that if it weren’t for
him thinking the fight story was so funny, he wouldn’t have told me at all!”

“That’s
common, sweetie. They don’t want us to worry.”

“I get that,
but I don’t want him to feel like I’m so fragile that I can’t handle it, you
know?”

Mom
chuckled. “Oh, I know the feeling. But really, it’s more so they don’t have to
feel bad about worrying us. It’s one less thing they have to think about. If
we’re over here just living our lives and happy, that takes a load off them.”

That made
sense, and I didn’t want Matt to be worried about me worrying about him. I
rubbed the freshly opened block of cheese against the sharp metal points of the
grater. Having my mom’s house to go to on a regular basis really helped my uneasiness
over the whole thing. She exuded a sense of calm and strength that came with
her experience. It was something to look up to and aspire to be like.

“How is
Ellie handling the deployment?” She asked.

I shrugged.
“It’s harder for her since she can’t talk to Spencer. They email back and
forth, but he doesn’t get many opportunities to use the computer on the ship. I
guess a lot of Marines share the same one and it’s always taken whenever he has
a free minute to use it. Which isn’t often, unfortunately.”

“Poor girl.
That has to be hard. We didn’t even have email in the early years, you know.”

My eyes widened.
“Wow, I didn’t think about that. How did you survive?”

“Very funny,
Olivia.”

“I try.” I
brushed the bits of cheese on the grater into the bowl of shavings and put it
in the sink. “What else can I help with?”

Mom handed
me two bowls from the cabinet. “All done. Just serve it up while I set the
table.”

I ladled
piping hot chili into the two red ceramic bowls. The spices filled my nostrils
and I sighed. There wasn’t much better than a home-cooked meal after a long day
of textbook highlighting. I brought the bowls to the table and went back to the
kitchen for the dish of cheese I’d just grated. Mom and I each took handfuls of
the golden goodness and dumped it on top of our chili.

“Matt has
been hanging out with this guy named Brooks while he’s been in Afghanistan, and
I guess they’re really close.”

“Is that a
bad thing?” Mom asked, puzzled.

I blew on a
spoonful of chili and gingerly brought it to my mouth. It was amazing. “Not
exactly. I’m glad that he has a friend with him since Spencer is on the ship.
But I can’t stand Brooks’ wife. She’s a total bitch.”

Mom quirked
an eyebrow at my word choice but didn’t comment.

“I’m
serious!” I lamented. “She can’t say a nice thing to save her life.”

“Maybe she’s
just a tough nut to crack. In my time with the military, I’ve met quite a few
of your father’s coworker’s wives who were really cold at first but warmed up
over time. If Matt is close with Brooks, maybe you should give her a chance.”

I pursed my
lips. “Maybe. He keeps saying that when they get back we’re all going to hang
out.”

“Well, it
would be best if you didn’t hate the girl. Honey, if there’s one thing I’ve
learned after all these years, it’s that only a few people will become
permanent fixtures in your life. People get transferred all the time. I’m sure
you and Ellie will stay close friends because your roots are here, but you
might only be around this other couple for a short time.”

“That gives
me some hope, then.”

“Olivia.”
Mom’s tone was a warning. She was saying that she raised me better than to be
so snotty, which was true. I wasn’t acting any better than Catherine.

I sighed.
“Fine. I’ll make an effort.
For Matt.
The chili is
great, by the way.”

“Thanks.
I’ll give you the recipe for your Crockpot.”

“Please do!
I can’t believe how easy it is to cook in that thing. Matt is so impressed with
the dinners I make in there; little does he know I just throw it all in and
turn it on.”