Casualties of Love (8 page)

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Authors: Denise Riley

Tags: #Romance, #Military, #Multicultural & Interracial, #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction

BOOK: Casualties of Love
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She let him take hold of her and pull her closer to the side of the bed. She moved to sit beside him. Tyson knew he shouldn’t but he put his hand on her leg and rubbed along her thigh.  Jessica cleared her throat.

“Are you feeling ok? Any pain?” she asked.

“Nope. I’m good. There a twinge every so often, but nothing major. They keep me evened out. Looks like you’ve got down time today.”

He’d speaking based on the way she was casually dressed, but was really only making small talk. He didn’t care what she was wearing. Tyson was mostly interested in how warm her skin felt beneath the jeans she wore. Slowly, as if with a mind of it’s own, his hand crept farther up Jessica’s thigh. It got closer to the heated center that he knew was hidden beneath her clothes. She looked down at his hand quickly and then back up to his face.

“Yeah, I just, um, thought I’d stop by to see you for a while. I know you need to rest, so...”

His hand eased closer the junction of her thighs and Jessica swallowed. She threw a glance toward Marcus, before placing her palm over the back of Tyson’s hand. Tyson gave her a wicked look, one that he knew revealed with perfect clarity how much he wanted to continue with his exploration. Jessica stood and backed away from the bed.

“I should go.”

Jessica’s voice was raspy. Tyson knew she wasn’t unaffected by the way he touched her.

“You don’t have to hurry out, Jessica.”

Jessica rubbed her hands down her jeans before slipping them into her back pockets. The gesture made her shirt stretch a little more over her ample bosom. It also called his attention to her nicely shaped hips. He half hoped she would turn so he could take a gander at her firm, rounded ass. He envied her hands. They had the privilege of palming her butt.

He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted her come back to the side of the bed so he could pull her into a kiss. He wanted to feel her soft lips yield to his, to stroke his tongue along the edge of her tongue and the roof of her mouth. But, Jessica backed up another step, preparing to leave. She flicked a look toward Marcus who seemed oblivious to the whole scene going on around him. Tyson looked at Marcus, almost willing the man to look up and take the hint to get the hell out. Jones never took his eyes from the magazine he’d grabbed upon sitting down.

“No, I, ah, was just dropping in. I’ll see you later.”

Tyson watched Jessica walk out, his gaze lingering over her swaying hips.
Damn you, Marcus Jones!
At that thought, he shifted his gaze to find Jones still engrossed in the magazine. Tyson’s expression took on a frown.

“What the hell?” he asked his friend.

“What the hell what?” Jones looked up and asked. “What’s your problem?”
              “My problem is sitting at the foot of this bed while Jessica walks out of my room.”

“I’m sure she’ll be back,” Marcus said nonchalantly. Tyson continued to scowl. “What? Did you want to be alone?”

Tyson rolled his eyes at his friend and his obtuseness.

“My bad,” Marcus said. “ But with the way you been carrying on, I probably need to interrupt whatever it is you have planned. Exactly what is your plan for her, by the way?” Marcus asked.

“I don’t have a plan. I just want to talk to her.”

“Talk.” Tyson sensed a “yeah, right”, but Marcus managed not to verbalize it. “I think Jessica Watts may want a little more than that, Ty.”

“Did you talk to her? Is that why you two were together?”

“We were not together. We ran into each other on our way to see you. I asked a few questions. She’s clever though, didn’t give anything up. But she’s still got serious feelings for you, Tyson. It’s obvious. Is that what you want? Feelings?” Tyson didn’t answer him. “I saw the way you had your tongue all in her mouth the other day.”

“That just sort of happened out of nowhere and it hasn’t happened again. I want her to tell me what went down, why she left. I can’t get that out of her if you’re hanging around.”

“That’s it? All you want is an explanation?”

“Yes. I know it’s been a long time, but I think I deserve one.”

“Maybe,” Marcus conceded. “But, what if she disappears again?”

“Then she does. Jessica can do whatever she wants after I get some answers.”

Marcus didn’t bother to hold back the “yeah right” this time. Tyson didn’t bother to argue, since what he had said
was
a lie. He did care if she disappeared and, hell, didn’t Marcus know that Tyson had already thought about that possibility. They both had an easy out this time. The Army wouldn’t leave them in Afghanistan indefinitely. They each had an expiration date on their tour. They could potentially leave Afghanistan and never bother to speak to or see each other again. 

He didn’t know how long she had, but he was down to about four months remaining in country. That was certainly long enough to get answers from Jessica. It was also long enough to get entangled. While Tyson lied to Marcus, he wasn’t stupid enough to try and fool himself about why he wanted to spend time with Jessica. It wasn’t just to get answers. He absolutely wanted to hear her explain what had gone wrong for them, but he also wanted to kiss her again and again. He wanted to see if she felt the same as she used to beneath his hands and his body. He’d thought about it for days. Thinking wasn’t enough; he wanted to experience it. He knew it was probably a bad idea, but it wouldn’t be the first bad decision he’d ever made or the last.
Hell, it sounds like I’ve made up my mind to make it happen.
Maybe he had, and maybe it didn’t matter that he didn’t know what the hell he was doing.

 

Chapter 6

Jessica groaned, and loudly. Damn if this day had not been one of the longest she had ever spent in the field since training. She was tired, bone tired. She had been out with her unit since very early and had only needed to patch up a few minor scrapes until they were called over to assist another platoon. After hauling ass over the rough terrain, they got there to find the unit fully engaged in a firefight with some local extremist. There wounded Soldiers plus the villagers who got caught in the crossfire. They scrambled to push back the attackers and take care of the casualties as best they could. The hardest part was seeing the hurt children. It broke Jessica apart. All she wanted was to go back to her barracks, shower, and bury herself beneath her covers. She wanted to forget scenes like the one she was in today.

Her plan was to stop by and see how Tyson was doing and then get some much-needed rest. The shouting match she walked in on at his room delayed that course of action. The man was in the face of one of the senior combat doctors giving the physician apparent hell. The doctor wasn’t backing down and, from what Jessica could quickly gather, was threatening to notify Cpt. Kidd’s superior regarding his “unbridled stupidity”.

What in the world
?

“Sirs, is there a problem?” Jessica asked from the doorway.

Neither male acknowledged her. She didn’t know if it was because they didn’t hear her or because they were ignoring her attempt to intervene. She tried getting their attention from her position at the door, but that didn’t work. She even walked into the room and tried to get a response. Still, no acknowledgement. They continued to spit profanities at one another. Her long day and resultant poor demeanor left little patience for their pissing match.

“What the
hell
is going on here?” she yelled at the side of them. When they both jerked their heads toward her, she tacked on the dutiful, “sirs” with a raised eyebrow and annoyed expression. The doctor spoke first.

“Cpt. Kidd seems to think he can just decide when to leave the infirmary. He needs to get his ass back in that bed and accept the treatment we’re commissioned to provide for idiots like him,” the doctor said in a sneer.

“Captain...” Tyson paused to look at the name patch of the doctor before continuing with, “
Morrison
can kiss the ass that will be walking out of this room as soon as he gets the hell out of my way. I’m stuck in Afghanistan. I get that, but I don’t have to be stuck in this room to recover. I’ve got meds. I’m going back to my barracks.”

Jessica’s shoulders slumped. Jeez, she didn’t have the energy for this. She considered Tyson’s explanation, and he was probably right. He’d been there for weeks and could likely go back to his room. All he was doing was lying around or sitting around in the room. But, Morrison was probably thinking damage control. If something happened to Tyson outside of the infirmary, Morrison might be held responsible. Rubbing the back of her neck she tried to reason with them.

“Cpt. Morrison, sir? Is Cpt. Kidd out of the woods when it comes to infections? Are you concerned with infection?”

“No, he seems to be clear.
At the moment
,” he said in a hard voice. He wasn’t looking at Jessica, but back in a stare down with Tyson.

“Cpt. Kidd, would you agree to scheduled checkups?” Tyson gave a curt nod. “Maybe we could have someone check on him every other day, sir. He’s sort of mobile and his concussion shouldn’t be a problem as long as he doesn’t take another hit anytime soon.”

“As far as I’m concerned, as long as I can get myself up to shit, shower, and shave, I’m golden,” Tyson said through gritted teeth.

“I will not be held accountable if his status takes a fucking nosedive,” Morrison hissed.

Jessica winced as the shouted discourse began to deteriorate.

“I understand, Captain. But, sir, if he can get around enough to care for his needs, other than food and checkups, maybe he’d do better in his own room. It would also free up a bed,” she threw that last part in for good measure though Morrison probably gave less than a crap about the free bed.

“So, you’re taking responsibility for him, then, Watts?” He turned his head to look at Jessica who went wide-eyed.

“I’m sorry; what, sir?”

“You seem to be advocating for him to leave the infirmary. Are you taking responsibility for Cpt. Kidd?”

“Well, sir, I have my duties to my unit.”

“Then he stays,” Morrison said with a smirk. Tyson growled.

“Just try and make me, Morrison,” Tyson said as he crossed his thick arms over his broad chest. They were so close in proximity that the gesture made Morrison have to back up a step. The doctor narrowed his eyes at Tyson.

“Ok!” Jessica blurted. “I will check on Cpt. Kidd. I can...maybe I can get one of the Specialists to help out. Of course, only when it doesn’t interfere with their other duties,” she hastily added. “Sir, could we at least get someone to help get Cpt. Kidd back to his barracks?”

“Fine. But, you better make sure this doesn’t come back to bite me or you in the ass, J.C.”

“I’ll do my best, sir.”

“See that you do, Sergeant.”

Morrison turned snappily and left the room. Jessica and Tyson stood quietly for a while. After a bit, she closed her eyes briefly and shook her head to regroup.

“You don’t have to do this,” Tyson said tightly. She ignored his words.

“Why don’t you take a seat? Get off your leg until I can get someone to help us to your barracks.”

Jessica didn’t wait to see if he complied. She left to find them some help, as they’d need a ride. About an hour later, they were in his room. He seemed to visibly relax back in his own space. Jessica took a look around and saw that it was much like his room at West Point had been - neat to a fault. Bed pulled together tight. Shoes perfectly lined. She’d bet his closet was the same. Only a few personal items, including a picture of his family, were visible. She remembered seeing photos of his parents and his sister. She had met them one weekend when they had visited the Academy during their second year.

Jessica remembered that Tyson had added a picture of her to his room at the Academy. He’d taken the picture of her one weekend. They’d been together for about six months, and he’d told her that he loved her and that he wanted a photo of her to keep with him. The picture had been directly across from his bed, so he could see her first thing in the morning and last thing at night, he’d said.
So long ago
.

Shaking that thought away, Jessica looked for a picture of a girlfriend, but didn’t readily see one.

Maybe he doesn’t have one.

No, probably wishful thinking on your part
.

Well, so what if he does?

Exactly. He’s not yours.

She was having conversations in her head. Ridiculous. Clearly she needed a break.

“Hey, I’ve been out all day, and it was a rough one. I need to take a shower and unwind a little. I’ll be back to check on you, but let’s get you settled. Do you want the bed or the chair?”

“I can do this myself, Sergeant,” he said to her.

Her eyes went up to his with his pointed use of her rank. Obviously, he was still pissed because he’d had to argue his way out of the hospital bed. He hadn’t seemed all that thrilled that he wouldn’t be getting his way without her help. He didn’t seem all that thrilled to
have
her help.

“Bed or chair,
sir
?” she repeated in a firm, modulated tone that told him she had no patience for being the new target for his annoyance. She was drained and completely lacking that virtue. She wanted to get him settled and then get herself together. He clenched his jaw, but then released it with a sigh.

“Chair,” he said grudgingly.

“Fine,” she replied in a similar manner.

Jessica got him seated. She made sure he had access to everything he wanted for the time being, and then she left Tyson’s room.

The shower she took at her own barracks was long. Quite some time under the hot water was needed before she began to relax, before the scenes of the day started to wash away. She knew they were likely to return in the night, but it was good to let them go even if temporarily. They hadn’t lost any Soldiers, though there were several wounds to patch up. They had not been so lucky with the innocents. An older lady was killed and so was her adult daughter. Two marketplace workers were killed. One instantly it seemed; and the other succumbed to wounds later. One child had died. Jessica could see the small, limp body behind her closed lids. The families of the dead and wounded were, of course, devastated. She and the others had tried to help, but there was only so much that could be done. It was hard to watch such things, particularly when you knew that you’d see it happen again and again. The loss of the children was the worst. She never dealt well with that.

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