Love of a Marine (The Wounded Warriors Series Book 2) (39 page)

Graciella got a glimpse of Misty’s steel. A hint of the way she must have spoken to the men under her command. “My son is in the apartment. He’s still awake.”

“Then step outside and we’ll go for a walk or sit in my car. Make up your mind.”

Graciella gritted her teeth. “I have to let Santos know I’m stepping outside.” She made to close the door.

“Leave the door open. Tell him. I’ll wait here.”

Hands to her hot cheeks, Graciela hesitated then whipped around and strode down the short hallway. She knocked at the door to Santos’s room. “Santos? Honey, I’m stepping outside. I won’t be far away.” She heard nothing. “Santos, did you hear me?”

“Yes. Leave. I don’t care.”

This was a nightmare. Graciella turned on her heel, grabbed her keys, and stepped outside. She locked the door and followed Beachy to the parking area.

Beachy crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the front fender of her Jeep. “In the car or walk?”

“In the car so I can keep an eye on my front door.”

Misty opened the driver’s side and pointed across the hood. “Get in.”

Graciella got in the car and sat as far away from Misty as possible. Angry words spewed from her mouth, “Tell me what you want. Do you want Cluny? Take him. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“God! The two of you are beyond pathetic.” She pursed her lips and gripped the steering wheel. “If I didn’t love Mac, I’d tell both of you to go to hell, but I do love him so I have something to say to you, and then I’ll leave.”

“I’d rather you—”

“Oh, shut up!” She slammed her fist on the steering wheel. “I’m only going to say this once so listen up!”

Stunned by Misty’s hot temper and the command in the small blonde woman’s voice, Graciella held her tongue. Pulse thundered in her ears. She’d let Beachy have her say then get out of there as fast as she could.

“Are you listening?” Misty stared hard into Graciella’s eyes.

Instead of answering, she glared. Who did the woman think she was?

“This is not easy for me to tell you. Mac and I served several months in a forward operating base in the middle of an active battle zone in Iraq. Dempsey and some of the other guys you met were there too. It’s impossible to feel safe, ever. Even inside the wire. You never knew when an RPG would detonate, or whether or not it was headed right for you. We were under mortar fire twenty-four-seven. You could be watching a movie or writing a letter or standing in the mess line. The threat of sudden death was constant. I felt my humanity slipping away inch by inch. It was impossible to sleep when the sirens went off at all hours of the day and night.

“One night warning sirens screamed for about the tenth time. I was shaking in every part of my body. I stepped outside the mess tent and slammed into Mac. I ripped into him from start to finish just because he was there. I choked and started to cry. He put his arms around me. I slapped and punched him, but he wouldn’t let go. When I got hold of myself, he walked me to my tent. He never said a word. At the door, he turned to leave. I grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. It was wrong, but I didn’t care because I knew if I stayed alone I’d come unglued.”

Gasping, Graciella tried to picture what Beachy described. Acid reflux burned the back of her throat.

“We sat on the edge of my cot holding hands. Finally, Mac gently lowered me on the cot and held me. There was nothing sexual about it. We fell asleep. When I woke a few hours later he was gone.”

“But, I thought…”

Misty held her palm out. “Let me finish. Not long after that night we began to sleep together. What you need to understand is that it wasn’t passion or even love. It was one human reaching out to another human on the most primal level. Sex was how we maintained our sanity in the raging chaos around us. You have no inkling what it’s like to be a woman in a war zone during a long, dangerous deployment. We both could have been busted in rank for it, but a few of the men in the unit, like Gunny Dempsey, deflected the gossip. Mac never said word one to anyone about me. It’s easy for basic kindness and decency to deteriorate, even among the people you depend on for your very life.

“The day of the RPG ambush, the day Dempsey lost his leg, we were in a convoy heading back to Baghdad. Several of us got wounded.” She touched her ear unconsciously. “And a couple of guys in my squad were killed. It was indescribably ugly. I didn’t expect to get out of there alive. A helicopter gunship came in low and held off the bad guys until we could be extracted by a SEAL fire team. The one your husband was part of. Marv was killed within twenty-four hours of that incident.”

Tears clogged Graciella’s throat.

“Mac and I were on the same Medevac plane to Germany, but we didn’t see each other again for about three months. It was just before he was on his way to Walter Reed with Dempsey and I was shipping out to a facility on the west coast. The only thing that existed between us by then was a melancholy, a deep respect. We’d saved each other over there. Mac is responsible for me not being a total crazy bitch, a total lost cause. He’ll always be my best and most trusted friend.”

Graciella raised her hands to cover her face. Moaning softly, she shook her head for what they’d gone through. All of them, including Marvin. Finally, she understood why she had no reason to distrust the man she loved. He and this woman had connected during a nightmarish situation she could never imagine. Their devotion to each other was no threat to her. Had never been a threat to her.

“I had no idea. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Do you love Mac? Because if you do, get off your ass and figure out a way to patch it up with him. If you don’t love him then end it. I can’t stand to see him suffering like this. He’s one of the finest men I’ve ever known. Your kid would be lucky to have him for a father.”

A tear trickled down Graciella’s cheek. “I do love him. I just don’t know how to…”

“Then figure it out!” Misty pointed to the door. “I’m done. You can go back to your kid now.” Misty put the key in the ignition and started the Jeep.

The second Graciella closed the car door, Misty backed out and sped away.

She hugged herself against the chilly night air. Slowly, she walked back to her apartment. Santos’s bedroom door was closed and there was no light shining under it. She rapped softly.

“Santos? May I come in?”

His voice, muffled and sullen was barely audible. “Why?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“I’m asleep.”

Her lips twisted in a rueful smile. “Please?” She turned the knob ever so slightly. He hadn’t locked it. “Sweetheart?”

He was fully clothed, sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard. The vertical blinds on his window facing the parking area were open. “Who was that lady?”

Graciella crossed the room and sat on the edge of his bed. “Cluny’s old friend from the Marines, Sergeant Beachy.”

“Why did you go out to her car?” He crossed his arms and scowled. “What were you talking about?”

“Were you watching me?” She put her hand on his leg. “I went outside because I wasn’t sure if I wanted you to hear our conversation.”

“Because you were talking about ‘
it’s complicated’
grown-up stuff?”

“Um hum. That was it.”

“So, you’re not going to tell me.” He turned his head to face the window.

“No, honey, not tonight, but I promise I will soon.” She shook his foot. “Why don’t you take your shower and get ready for bed? I need to call Marla before it gets too late.”

“When can you take me to visit Amber?”

“Tomorrow’s Friday. I’ll ask her parents if it’s OK to bring you over to spend the night. How’s that?”

His face broke into a happy grin. “I know what I want for my birthday.”

“What?” She gave him encouraging smile.

“Macfearsome.”

“I can’t give you Macfearsome.”

“Why not? You took him away from me, and I want him back.”

Everything was so simple to a child. Perhaps they had the right idea. “I want him back too. I’ll see what I can do. I won’t make any promises.”

“OK.” Resigned, he scooted off the bed, got his pajamas from the dresser, and headed to the bathroom.

The minute Graciella heard the shower running she called the Dempsey house. Dwayne answered. “Dwayne? It’s Graciella here. Is it too late to talk to Marla?”

“No, she’s right here. Give me the boy, honey, Graciella’s on the phone.”

“Hey! What are you up to?”

“Do you have a few minutes to talk, Marla?”

“Sure, hold on a minute.” A chair scraped. “I’m going to take Graciella’s call in the den.” Footsteps, then a door closing. “There. We have privacy.”

“Could you keep Santos tomorrow night?”

“Sure. Are you and Cluny going out?”

“Not exactly. I’m going to his house and see if he’ll talk to me.”

“Finally! Are you going to let him know you’re coming?”

“I hadn’t planned to. I thought I’d just show up, not give him a chance to find an excuse not to see me.”

“He wouldn’t do that. He’s miserable. I’ve never seen him so down in the mouth. I hope you’re going over there to make up with him. If you’re feeling as rotten as he is, it’s time to talk it out.” Marla sighed. “I’m one to talk. I have Amber to thank for being so single-minded in getting us back together after we split up.”

“You’ll have to tell me about that sometime.”

Marla laughed. “She’d be happy to share with very little prompting. What time will you be by?”

“Around three?”

“That works. He can have dinner with us. You too.”

“No, I want to get to Cluny’s house before he gets home. If it works out, we’ll have dinner together.”

Marla didn’t answer her.

“Marla?”

“I’m here. I, uh… Oh, heck, Graciella. Misty Beachy is at his place. She stopped on her way back to San Diego. We went out for pizza with them tonight. But they’re not…he’s not…”

“I know. That’s OK. I talked with her an hour ago. She was here.”

“What?”

“I won’t go into detail. Let’s just say she gave me a verbal slapping. I needed it.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed, my friend. You and Cluny and Santos are very special to Dwayne and me. We want nothing but the best for you.”

“Thank you, Marla. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, and keep those fingers crossed.”

Graciella clicked off and slumped against the couch cushions. Now she’d worry for the next several hours about how to break the ice with the man she loved. She’d be turning the words around in her head all night.

Cluny’s house, next afternoon

Cluny lounged against his porch railing. “Sure you can’t stay another night?”

“Yes, Mac, I’m sure. I have to get back to work.” Misty pointed to the duffle bag next to the door. “Would you carry that to the Jeep? I’ll make one more sweep through the bedroom and bathroom to make sure I don’t leave anything behind. You never know when your girlfriend might show up.”

“You referring to my ex-girlfriend?” The words stabbed a pain in his chest and a choking lump in his throat.

Misty nodded to the street. “You mean her?”

Cluny’s back went stiff, and he whipped his head around. Graciella’s car crept down his driveway. She stopped behind the plumbing van and turned off the engine but didn’t open her door. The front screen snapped shut when Beachy went inside the house. “Oh, shit,” he groaned. “Oh, shit.”

Graciella opened the door and stood next to her car. She gazed at him with unreadable eyes.

Beachy stepped outside and lifted her duffle. “I’m outta here, Mac.”

“You don’t have to leave, Mis.” But if she didn’t, what was he to do?

“There are times, Mac, when I can’t believe what a numbskull you can be. Go talk to her. What are you waiting for?”

He reached for Misty’s bag and yanked it from her hand. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“You’re an idiot, but let’s get it over with.” She waved at Graciella.

“What are you doing, for chrissake?”

“Waving good-bye to your girlfriend.” Misty opened the passenger door and rounded the front of Jeep to the driver’s side. “Throw my bag on the seat.”

He did as instructed, slammed the door, and followed her. From the corner of his eye he saw Graciella watching his every move. His neck and shoulders cramped, and he asked himself why he was pushing it. “Give us a good-bye kiss, Mis.” He leaned close to her door.

“I carry a gun, knothead, and unless you have a death wish, you’ll step away from the car. I resign as your relationship therapist. Now back up or I swear to God I’ll drive right over you.” She glared and started the Jeep’s engine then threw it into first.

He jumped to avoid the back wheels when she accelerated. She wasn’t kidding about running over him. He might as well have been naked, standing there in the street, the dust kicked up by the Jeep swirling around his battered work-boots. He hadn’t felt so vulnerable since the evac from Fallujah. Graciella hadn’t moved, but he thought he detected the lowering sun glint off what could be a tear on her cheek.
Oh, God no, Graciella, please don’t cry.
He was mush when faced with female tears
.
He threw up his hands helplessly and stepped in her direction.

She moved around the back of her car toward him, swiped her cheeks, and clutched her arms around her midsection. The pain on her face destroyed him as effectively as a bayonet slicing slowly into his belly. Instinctively, he moved forward and opened his arms. She hesitated at first then took a tentative step, both eyes streaming now.

She was in his arms, clutching his back, holding him so tight against her that he could feel her heartbeat. It matched his. “Baby, sweetheart, my love. Please don’t cry.” Cluny rested his cheek against her head, buried his nose in her hair and breathed in her scent. Her scent meant home to him, life to him, the future to him. “I love you, my Graciella.”

“I love you so much, querido. I love you so much it hurts every cell in my body. Please forgive me.” Her lips brushed the side of his neck, nearly undoing him. “Please.”

A noisy, obnoxious car with bass pounding, full of young guys, slowed in the street. The smartass driver yelled, “Get a room!” Cluny smiled and lifted his middle finger without loosening the hold on his woman. He kissed the top of Graciella’s head, took the profane hand and lifted her chin to kiss her. Loud catcalls emanated from the rowdies as they sped away.