Jericho (A Redemption Novel) (2 page)

CHAPTER 2

T
he sound of distant laughter shook Christian from a deep sleep.

Something wasn’t right.

It was past curfew. The base at nighttime always held a sort of eerie silence, an absolute stillness, but tonight it didn’t. During his short time in the marines he had learned a lot, but the most important thing was that there was hell to pay for breaking the rules.

Looking around the quiet bunk, he realized that Gibbs, Johnson and Davis were missing. They were the guys he’d started basic training with a few months ago. They were his friends. His family now. His parents were gone. Dead in a crash the month before Christian enlisted. Those guys looked out for him. Helped him get through Hell Week. And if they were busted breaking curfew they would be in deep shit.

He got out of bed, shoved his feet into his boots and made his way toward the sound of the voices. He was hoping by some miracle that his friends wouldn’t be there. But they were. Crowded around a Japanese girl who couldn’t have been more than seventeen. He wasn’t surprised to see her. Girls hung around outside the base all the time, hoping to get a chance to get to know one of the servicemen.

Christian stayed the hell away from them. He knew from some of the older marines that most of those girls were trouble. No matter what country they came from. Most of them were looking for a way out. He didn’t care if his friends went out with them when they were on leave, but the girl shouldn’t be on the base. Especially past midnight.

As he walked up, he saw Johnson push the girl against the wall and kiss her. She looked a little frightened but willing enough to be kissed by him, but when he saw Davis do the same thing mere seconds later, something inside of him screamed that it wasn’t right.

“What the fuck are you guys doing? She’s not supposed to be here.”

“Relax, man,” Gibbs said. His words were slightly slurred. He was drunk. They all were. They had to be. He couldn’t think of any other reason they would be so stupid.

“You should join us.” Johnson barely turned and looked at him. “Miko is fun. Aren’t you, baby?” He grabbed her breast and Christian took a step forward. The girl laughed uneasily and tried to push Johnson’s hand away but Johnson just squeezed harder.

“I don’t want any part of this, and if you three assholes weren’t shitfaced you would know that, too.”

“You’re such a fucking Boy Scout. That’s why we didn’t invite you in the first place.”

He wouldn’t have gone even if they had invited him. Three of them and one girl. It just didn’t sit right. “You need to get back to the bunk.” He took a step closer to the girl, who wasn’t laughing now. She took in a quick breath as he neared her. He had that effect on some women. He knew he was a big, nasty-looking son of a bitch, but she was safer with him than the three idiots he thought were his friends. “Go home. Do you understand me? Go home right now.”

Her eyes widened and she nodded.

“You three get your asses back in the bunk.”

“What are you going to do? Rat us out?” Gibbs gave him a hard look. He knew that it wasn’t in Christian’s nature to be a rat, but they should also know he wouldn’t have bothered to come and get them unless it was important.

“Just let the girl go home.”

“All right, you stuffy son of a bitch.” Johnson pushed himself away from her. “We’ll be back in a few minutes. Just let us walk her out.”

Christian gave them a hard look and then turned away. But something inside him told him to go back. To make sure the girl got off the base. But he didn’t. He walked back to his bunk, hoping that his friends would do the right thing, but he had the sinking thought that they would just disregard everything he had said.

They didn’t come back to the bunk for another hour and a half. He knew that because he’d lain awake waiting for them. The next day none of them would look him in the eye. The next week none of them were speaking to each other.

Four months later, Miko was back on base again. This time she was pregnant and sobbing. Christian wasn’t exactly sure what had happened that night. He tried not to let his mind go there, but he never shook the feeling that he could have done more.

He looked at the crying girl, opening his mouth to say he was sorry when the explosion hit. Suddenly he was no longer a twenty-one-year-old kid on his first deployment in Japan. He was thirty-four on his third tour in Iraq, and the commander of his own unit.

One side of his face was on fire. No. It was melting. He turned his body away from the searing heat, the pain. The devil licked his skin. His men were everywhere, most of them dead already. He knew rocket attacks were a danger. He knew this day was coming but he didn’t think he would lose his men.

This was supposed to be his punishment. He didn’t do the right thing all those years ago. He’d failed her.

“You’re not alone.” A feminine voice, sweetened with a Southern accent, jolted him from his nightmare. “It’s okay, sugar. I’m here. You don’t have to be scared. Everything is going to be just fine.”

The pain to the left side of his body was breath stealing. His skin felt tight, his face numb. His arm almost felt as if it belonged to another person. Opening his eyes was a struggle. He must be dying. There was an angel welcoming him to the other side.

No, scratch that. It couldn’t be an angel.

He wasn’t bound for heaven.

He managed to pry his eyes open and look at the creature who was trying to soothe him. Her honey-brown eyes went wide. Her mouth dropped open into a perfect O. He was in more pain than he could ever imagine, but he still took note of how plump and pretty her lips were. She was nice looking. With smooth coffee-and-cream-colored skin and dark auburn hair pulled tightly into a bun. There was a slight dusting of freckles across her small, round nose. Those features together should make her simply cute, but the woman standing before him was oddly beautiful. There was a softness floating around her. The kind that made him want to pull her into him just so he could feel it.

“Hello, Lieutenant.” Her voice sounded breathless, almost as if she was afraid.

“Are you the angel of death?”

“I’m no angel. God wouldn’t have me.”

He was quiet for a moment, the realization coming hard and fast. “I’m not dead.”

“No, sir. You aren’t.”

He should be. Why did they have to die when he got to live? He didn’t deserve it. He had nothing left. No family. No home. And judging by the injuries to his body, he had no career. Those men, some of them no more than boys, had mothers and wives, children waiting for their homecoming. It wasn’t right. He should be the one to go.

He blinked at her. “Would you mind killing me?”

“I’ve got enough sins to repent. Do you think I’m going to add another one by taking your life?” She placed the back of her hand against his cheek. “You don’t want to die, Christian.”

He blinked at her, and then leaned into her touch. Nobody had touched him like that in years. Nobody had called him by his given name in just as long. It was always
Howard,
or
Lieutenant.
Most of his men called him
sir.
“How do you know I don’t want to die?”

“I’ve been working here for a little while now. I’ve seen hundreds of soldiers come and go. And I know if you had wanted to die you would have done so before they transported you all the way back to South Carolina. You must have something to live for.”

He remembered now. He had been like this for weeks. Ruined. First in some hospital overseas, where he’d undergone a half dozen surgeries to try to repair whatever damage had been done to him. But he was never awake for very long. There had been nothing to stay conscious for. Sleep, no matter how disturbed it was, certainly was a better alternative to reality. Until now.

“Besides, you’re too mean looking to die,” she said softly. “They would have to have a closed casket just so you won’t scare off the mourners.” She moved her efficient hands over his body to check beneath his bandages. “Beautiful,” she murmured. “You know, I almost didn’t come in here because you are so ghastly looking. I was afraid.”

“I’m burned.” He knew he must look bad. When his commanding officers had come to visit one of the few times he was awake, they wouldn’t look him in the eye. They could barely look at him at all. “I haven’t seen them yet. Are they that bad?”

“They aren’t pretty, but I actually didn’t notice them at first,” she said in her soft, accented voice. “You are a very large man. A very, very large, scowling man. I bet you scare the living daylights out of all your men.”

It was true. Sometimes he thought the only reason he moved up the ranks so quickly was because people were afraid of him. After the incident with Miko, he vowed that he would never be disobeyed again. But nobody but this little nurse had the balls to tell him that.

“Tell me who you are.” He locked eyes with her for a minute. She tried to keep contact, but he knew he was making her uncomfortable.

“I’m Georgia Williams,” she said, looking away. “I’m the night nurse.”

She stepped away from him, but he reached out and grabbed her wrist. She was scared of him, but she tried not to let it show. She simply closed her eyes and breathed slowly.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Georgia. I just don’t want you to go yet.” Why the hell did he want her to stay? Yes, she was beautiful, but that had little to do with it. He knew she was a nurse, that she must be busy, but he needed not to be alone right now.

“I know you aren’t going to hurt me. That would be very foolish, because half of your body is one big painful wound and all I would have to do is poke you and you would start screaming like a little girl.”

“I apologize, ma’am.” He let go of her wrist. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you. It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t go all formal on me, Jarhead.” She flashed him a quick smile. “I’m not upset. I wasn’t leaving right now anyway. I was just going to grab some fresh bandages from the counter so I could clean you up a little.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Georgia,” she reminded him. “Or Nurse Williams if you have to be polite, but please don’t call me
ma’am.
It makes me feel dreadfully old.”

She went about changing his bandages, quickly but gently. She had the softest hands. He watched her while she worked, wondering what those hands would feel like if she wasn’t being clinical. He wondered what they would feel like on him if he were making love to her.

That thought literally shook him.

“I’m sorry, sugar. Did I hurt you?”

“It’s fine,” he muttered. What the hell was his problem? Make love? To her? He hadn’t ever made love to anybody. He had sex. He fucked. It had been over a year since he had any contact with a woman. That must be was what was making him insane tonight. A few touches from a pretty female had him thinking all types of stupid shit.

When he got out of here he was going to call Marguerite. She was who he always called in between tours. She never seemed to mind his brutish looks and she never said no. A few sweaty rounds with her and he would be back to normal.

“I’m all done, soldier.” She looked at him with soft eyes. He knew why she was a nurse. She had this way about her that made a man want to be calm. “I have a few more patients to check on. But if you’re hungry or need something to take the edge off the pain, I’ll come back. Just press this button.” She placed it in his good hand and held on to him for just a fraction longer than she should have.

And there it was again. The need to pull her beneath him and take in her warmth snuck up on him. His imagination had taken off again all because of a simple touch. He needed to get out of here as soon as possible. “I’ll be fine, ma’am. Thank you.”

“Georgia,” she said to him. “Please call me Georgia.”

“Good night, Georgia.”

“Good night, Christian.”

CHAPTER 3

G
eorgia climbed into her car after her shift ended and rested her head against the hot vinyl seat. She felt weary this morning.
Tired
wasn’t the right word. Her shift had been fairly routine. No codes. No troublemaking patients. Nothing out of the ordinary, but this morning she felt as if she could barely move. It must have been the effects of the previous day still lingering in her mind.

What she needed was some sleep. Eight hours of glorious uninterrupted rest and maybe a long, hot bubble bath to ease the ache in her muscles.

She shut her eyes and let the sun shine on her face for a few moments, allowing herself to dream about the things she couldn’t have. She opened her eyes before she fell asleep, willing her body to somehow become reenergized. She was going to need it to get her through the day. Her second and most important job started now.

It was time for her to be a mommy. She started her car and was at her next-door neighbor’s apartment within fifteen minutes. Mrs. Sheppard was a widow in her mid-sixties and Georgia’s lifesaver. It was she who looked after Abby while Georgia was at work. Every evening just before six-thirty Georgia would drop off Abby, who would be clad in her pajamas. Mrs. Sheppard would spend an hour or so with Abby before putting her to bed in the portable crib that Georgia had bought for her. Leaving her baby for somebody else to put to bed sometimes pained Georgia, but she remembered that she worked nights for Abby’s sake. And that this shift was the only way she could spend the most time with her daughter.

“Good morning, Georgia.” Mrs. Sheppard stepped aside and let her into her tiny apartment. “How was your night?”

“It was fine, thank you.” She spotted her sleepy baby standing up in her crib. Waiting for her. “How was my baby cakes last night?”

“She was delightful, as usual. You know, sometimes I feel downright rotten for taking your money. I don’t do much at all. You won’t even let me change her diaper for you in the morning.”

It was silly but true. Georgia wanted to be the first person who touched her baby in the morning. She wanted to be the one to give her a bath and put on her clothes. She wanted her baby to have no doubt who her mother was.

“Hello, my love.” She picked her up, burying her nose in Abby’s curls. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Let me fix you something to eat, honey,” Mrs. Sheppard said, bustling into the kitchen. “I’ll feel better knowing you had a good meal to get you through the day.”

Georgia was tempted to take her up on her offer, but she shook her head. She only paid Mrs. Sheppard a hundred dollars a week to watch Abby. Mrs. Sheppard may claim to feel rotten, but it was Georgia who felt guilty for not being able to pay her more. “You do enough for me. You can’t know how grateful I am to you that you keep her overnight. You know you are the only person I trust with her.”

Mrs. Sheppard shook her head. “I know how hard this is for you. When my husband died I had two little ones to raise on my own. Thank God I had my mama to help me. I’m doing what’s right. I just wish you would let me watch her for a little while longer. Just enough so you can get a few hours of undisturbed sleep. Look at you. You can’t go on like this for much longer.”

But she had to. “Don’t worry about me. I get plenty of sleep,” she lied as she slung Abby’s diaper bag over her shoulder. “Go back to bed now. Abby and I are going to get ready for our day.”

She had less than twelve hours to spend with her baby, so she kissed her neighbor’s cheek and made her way back to her dismal-looking studio apartment. She needed a new car, but her first priority was to get a new apartment. There was paint flaking off the walls, the appliances were older than she was and the heat barely worked in the winter.

It was no place to raise a baby, but it was the best she could do for now. And despite the less than perfect living arrangements, she wasn’t ashamed to live there. Getting this place and managing to pay the rent on her own for over a year now was a huge accomplishment. Two years ago she didn’t know how to write a check or use an ATM card. Two years ago she hadn’t been sure she could do anything without the aid of her father. How wrong she had been.

With Abby on her hip she scrounged around the kitchen to dig up something for them to eat. Oatmeal for Abby and some grapes that were on their way to being rotten for Georgia. She was going to have to go grocery shopping soon. She should probably go today, but she just didn’t have time. She still had to sleep, shower, take Abby to the park and decide what bills she had to pay before things got shut off.

She’d never imagined being in so much debt. But when her father had kicked her out, he’d stopped paying her school loans, which was fine with Georgia. She could have managed them on her own, but the thing that had killed her was her lack of medical insurance. Abby had come early in an emergency C-section, and that had left Georgia with medical bills in the thousands. Whenever she thought about the amount, it was as though a large rock had settled on her chest.

So she tried not to think about it, or how Abby had come to be, because she couldn’t change anything. And even if she could, she wouldn’t change a thing. Life without her baby was unimaginable.

She cleared away their breakfast things, turned on PBS for Abby and crawled onto her mattress. Now it was time for her to snatch a few minutes of sleep. Her daughter usually lay quietly beside her. Georgia didn’t know how an eleven-month-old understood that her mother needed to sleep, but she did and kept quiet while Georgia slept for a couple of hours.

Most days Georgia was so exhausted that she usually fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but today sleep didn’t come even though her body was screaming for it. Now that she was home, now that she was finally away from anybody who might be able to read her thoughts, she let her mind wander to Lieutenant Howard.

Christian.

She had lied to herself when she’d said that her shift was routine. He’d asked her to kill him, and even though she was sure that he wasn’t ready to die, his words had stayed with her the rest of the night. He’d stayed with her the rest of the night.

She had never met a man like him before. When she looked at him she felt all the air rush out of her lungs. It wasn’t because he was enormous. Well, maybe that was part of it...or maybe because even in sleep, his face didn’t relax.

She’d lied to him last night when she’d told him she wasn’t afraid of him. She was terrified, but not because she thought he was going to hurt her. The moment he’d opened his eyes and looked at her she’d known that he wouldn’t. She was afraid because she found herself drawn to him. Almost attracted to him. She hadn’t been attracted to any man since she’d gotten pregnant. In fact, she avoided them.

But there was something about Christian. Something that made her wonder what it would feel like to climb in his lap and be held by him. To have those big hands stroke down her back. To make her feel something entirely different than she’d ever felt before.

She knew it was insane to think about him that way. He was a patient and he was injured. And she knew that being alone all this time was getting to her a little. She was missing her family even though she was mad at them, even though they’d turned their backs on her—they weren’t all bad.

Her upbringing had been strict, but she’d enjoyed her siblings’ company. And her mother had been sweet and gentle. Too docile to ever go against anything her father said.

“Ma?” Abby placed her chubby hand on Georgia’s cheek and looked up at her.

“Yes, baby?”

Abby snuggled closer to her beneath the blanket, prompting Georgia to wrap her arms around her. It was as if she was reminding her to not think about them, to shut off her thoughts and use the precious little free time she had and go to sleep. She kissed Abby’s dark curls and pulled her closer. Within moments they were both asleep.

* * *

Somebody was hovering over him as he slept. Years of training told Christian to stay calm, to strike when they least expected it. His hand itched to grab the neck of whoever was above him. He moved his left arm slightly, ready to defend himself, but when he felt the stiffness, the tight numbness in his fingers, he remembered where he was. Then the rest of his senses returned to him.

He could smell himself, a mixture of medicated salves and the musk due to not properly bathing in weeks. He could feel his hair brushing his forehead. He was so used to having it shaved that the feeling was foreign to him. He could hear his surroundings—beeping sounds from monitors in another room, the murmur of voices, the sounds of the place doing business as usual.

He was in Jericho Medical. Still. His fourth day. He had never been laid up for so long. But then again he had never been a prisoner in his own body.

He relaxed his hand and took his time opening his eyes. He could tell by the light on his face that it was daytime. That if he opened his eyes he wouldn’t see Georgia. The night nurse.

After the first night he’d made a point to be as unobtrusive as possible. To get her to leave as soon as possible. To avoid her comforting touch. He was drawn to the woman and he wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t his type. She wasn’t even the prettiest nurse in the hospital, but he looked forward to seeing her walk through his door every night.

So did the rest of the men on the floor. She wasn’t flirtatious or overly friendly. She wasn’t outwardly sexy. Most nights she wore prim cardigans over her scrubs. She never wore makeup, always had her hair ruthlessly pulled back. But maybe that was why they were all so drawn to her. The mystery. The curiosity of what it would be like to peel back all the layers of the sweet Miss Georgia and see what was on the inside.

He finally opened his eyes, surprised to see General Daniel Lee standing above him. The general was the only stable person in his life since he had joined the marines. For some reason he took a special interest in Christian. It was he who prompted Christian to want to rise through the ranks in the corps.

“Sir.” Christian tried to sit up, but his ribs protested and his skin screamed out for him to stop.

“For Christ sake, Howard. At ease,” General Daniel Lee barked at him. “You’re half blown up. I think that gives you an excuse not to salute me.”

“Yes, sir.” He collapsed back on the bed, hating that sitting up was nearly impossible for him.

“I was wondering how long it was going to take for you to either kill me or open your eyes.”

“Sir?”

“I saw your hand move. You were going to grab my neck and crush my windpipe.”

There was no use in denying it. The general knew him too well. “I would have stopped the moment I saw it was you.”

The general raised an approving brow. “Glad to see that even though you had the shit blown out of you, your training stayed with you.”

“You trained me. If I hadn’t attempted to kill you, I think you would be disappointed in me.”

“I would. How are you feeling, son? You look like hell, but how do you feel?”

“Considering most of my unit is dead...like shit, sir.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Howard. You know that. There was nothing you could have done to save them. You are not to blame yourself. That is an order.”

He looked away from his mentor. “Yes, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me
sir
anymore. Call me Dan.” He sank his big body into the chair beside Christian’s bed.

Christian wasn’t sure he heard right. Nobody ever called the man by his first name. They hadn’t dared. With the face of a bulldog and the temperament of a pit bull, he was the only person Christian had ever truly been afraid of. “I must be dying.”

The general took off his hat and tossed it on the table. “Yes, you are, but I figure you got another fifty years left before you drop dead. I’m retiring, Christian. I’ll be a civilian by the end of the month.”

He sat back and let Christian process that for a minute. General Lee was retiring. It didn’t seem possible. Christian thought the man was just like him. Thought the military was his world. Thought the man would die as a marine. “Why?”

“You almost died, son.”

Of all of the things he could have said, that was the very last thing Christian expected. “I should have. I was their leader. I should have been the last man to come back alive.”

The general rubbed his massive hand over his face, looking every bit of his nearly seventy-four years. “I’ve been a marine for over fifty years, enlisted right after my eighteenth birthday. I’ve seen a lot of men come and go. I’ve seen a lot of boys die. When you join, you go in knowing that you could die for your country. You know that the people you are friends with could die. You tell yourself you are going be detached, that when your friends die you’re going to chalk it up to being a part of war. But that never happens. I was in Vietnam when I saw my best friend step on a landmine and die right before my eyes. I cried like a baby. That stayed with me. Every man that I saw die stayed with me. Every mother I had to send my condolences to stays with me.”

Christian closed his eyes, but what he really wanted to do was cover his ears. This was General Lee he was speaking to. The man was a machine. If he was affected by it, then what chance did the rest of them have? “Why are telling me this?”

“Because when you got hurt, Christian, I—I was more...shaken than I ever expected to be.”

Christian blinked at the man, unsure of how to respond to that.

“You know I’ve kept special track of you since you came under my command. You’ve been a model marine. You never screwed the local girls, you never got drunk or broke curfew. You’ve done everything right.”

“That’s not true, sir. I’ve made mistakes.” He made one big one that he wasn’t sure that even God could forgive him for.

“Not yet, son. But if you go back you will.”

“You think they’ll clear me to go back to active duty?”

“Don’t know. But the fact that you want to after this worries me. You lost nearly your entire unit. You think going back is going to make you forget that?”

Nothing could make him forget that, but being a marine was all he’d ever known. If he didn’t have that then he had nothing.