The answer to the question I asked myself months ago has been answered. What kind of soldier am I? I see it in his eyes as I’m dismissed with sympathy, not pride—not much of one.
Maybe it was the idea, the strength of a soldier, that appealed to me. But without him, Briggs, I feel little. We’re finally free, capable of conversation without being in shackles, and where is he? Anger courses through my veins as I’m escorted to a hotel, in wait for the plane home. I’ve finally been given permission to call Texas, and as I stare at the waiting phone, I can’t bring myself to pick it up. I want so much to hear Noah’s voice, but I’m afraid he won’t recognize mine.
The fabric of my uniform suffocates me as I hastily strip it off and toss it onto the chair next to the window. Spotting my new scar in the reflection, I quickly pull my T-shirt down over my jeans, flinching when a knock sounds at the door.
Briggs hesitates as he stands outside the entryway.
“Hey, I—uh…” He cups the back of his head as I scour him in civilian clothes—dusty black boots, faded Levi’s, black T-shirt, and his dog tags. “I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”
“Stop it,” I say with a hint of the anger I feel toward him. “Don’t act like a stranger to me.” My voice cracks as his eyes finally reach mine. I can breathe again as I see his visible exhale. Opening the door, I take a step back as he walks in, and my world stops turning. The air no longer moves. My heart actually skips a beat. I don’t blink…I can’t seem to formulate a coherent thought and judging by the look on his face he can’t either.
We stare silently into each other’s eyes, as we’ve done so many times over the weeks we spent together in captivity. Only this time when I look at him, it isn’t laced with fear, but with overwhelming relief and more…So. Much. More.
From the moment I’d woken up in that hospital, I’d been a mess. I was lost and angry. I felt scared, empty, and alone. I should’ve been happy—elated even. But, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing, and I know that something is this man standing before me, regarding me with so much longing, and what looks like love.
We stand inches apart, but with the way that I yearn for his touch, it may as well be oceans. As his hand lifts to cup my cheek, my breath catches in my throat. That simple touch sparks every nerve ending in my body to life, causing my pulse to race and the blood to rush to my head.
Briggs rubs his thumb beneath my eye, brushing away my angry tears. “I know you, Scottie…” His voice breaks as he shakes his head in disbelief. “I know you.”
“Please…” I whisper back, placing my hand over his racing heart, unsure of what I’m asking but positive he knows the answer.
Briggs’s expression is pained, his face a mix of emotions—of indecision. It’s as if he is asking my permission to cross that invisible line, the one that with any other man—in any other situation—would never have been breached. For me, now, it doesn’t exist at all. There are only the two of us. Briggs and me. Alone in this room.
Briggs lifts his hand and then pulls back, suddenly, his face taut with frustration. “I need to—to touch you…” He balls his fingers into a tight fist. “Tell me no. God, Scottie, just…just tell me you don’t want this.”
I can’t. I want whatever this is more than my next breath.
Swallowing what little resolve I have left, I whisper softly, “I can’t.” My eyes lift to meet his—honey and wildfire.
“What exactly are you saying? I need to hear the words.” He takes a tentative step closer. “Tell me what you want.”
Staring into those pleading brown eyes, without an ounce of reservation—without a thought for the consequences—I beg. “Touch me.”
A growl escapes through his barely parted lips as he lunges for me. His hand tangles in my curls and he tilts my face up to meet his. “I dreamed of this.” His big brown eyes convey so much sincerity. “So many nights I dreamed of what it would be like to be free from those chains and to hold you in my arms. God, Scottie, tell me this is real. Tell me I’m not dreaming.”
The warmth of his breath on my lips is almost too much to bear. It makes me dizzy with want. Every ounce of my body is alive and pulsing with need for this man.
Reaching up, I cradle his freshly shaven face in my shaky hands. “It’s the truth.”
Unable to resist the pull, our bodies collide as his mouth crashes into mine. Our teeth tap lightly before he separates my lips with a hungry tongue.
Finally.
I don’t know why that’s the word that keeps rushing through my head. But, here and now, with his lips on my mouth and his hands on my skin…that’s exactly what it feels like—finally.
It feels like I’ve been holding my breath for weeks…months…and he’s filling my starving lungs with new life. Reviving all of my dead parts, all the broken parts, if only for the briefest of moments.
His lips are so soft and thick, his tongue warm and urgent. He devours my mouth, using just the right amount of force. It’s the most sensual, most life-altering, kiss of my life. I want to live right here in this moment for eternity.
A moan escapes my throat as he gently backs me against the closed door. “Shhh,” he whispers as his lips turn up. “You trying to get us caught?”
In a blink, I back away from him, just as the hotel phone rings, causing me to recoil. Chris’s eyes search mine as I trace my lips in front of him. He watches the movement of my fingers as the line reappears. I take a step toward him, and the phone rings again. Cursing, he steps away as I pick it up.
Heart racing, my voice is barely a whisper. “Scott.”
“Katy?”
“Gavin?” I rasp out as the floor shakes beneath me, and I sink to the edge of the bed. Gavin’s desperation sounds over the line as I look to Briggs, who slinks out, closing the door quietly behind him.
Guilt consumes me even as my heart calls out to the man who’s just walked out on me. A man who had every right.
Who the fuck am I?
“Baby, can you hear me? Katy?”
“I’m here,” I say, though I’m not sure where here is.
In that moment, my world tilts, as his voice goes hoarse, and I mentally sift through the memories of our life together. I imagine the horror he’s endured since the news of my capture. I imagine him sleeping in our bed while our son cries for his missing mother. I imagine him searching our home for any sign of life from me, and the endless phone calls he’s made to his buddies of a higher rank while in wait. And as I do that, I feel like a fraud, an undeserving wife, because it wasn’t those thoughts that kept me alive. It wasn’t Gavin, and it wasn’t even Noah. As his voice cracks with his final plea, I know for certain I’m lost.
“Just come home.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Briggs
I walk through the small bathroom I’ve been using for the last week, collecting my meager belongings and adding them to my new duffel bag. Today we fly back to the States, and as much as I’m ready to get out of this place, I’m not yet prepared to say goodbye to Scottie. I don’t think I ever will be. We will fly together to my duty station in Fort Bliss, and from there, she flies home to Fort Hood, to be reunited with her husband and son. That means I’m quickly running out of time. She’s going home to her family, and I’m going home with the memory of her.
I find her in the lobby, looking sexier than any soldier has a right to look in desert camo and combat boots. Her blonde curls are wild, just the way I like them, reaching close to her shoulders. Her injured arm is in a cast extending from the thumb of her hand to her forearm. As I approach, awareness spikes in her shoulders, and she turns her head, her eyes fixed on mine. In those ocean blues, I see an apology, and my heart plummets. She regrets it. We’ll never be more than what we were before that phone rang, before her life called her back. She takes a few wary steps toward me and looks past my shoulder to make sure our conversation is private. My throat is raw with impending loss, but I manage to get the words out.
“I have you until that plane lands, do you hear me, Scottie? You’re mine until those wheels touch the ground.”