Marine for Hire (17 page)

Timing device.

Casualties unavoidable.

Officer Samuel R. Kercher found not at fault.

Sam blinked, trying to understand what he was reading. Beside him on the desk, his phone buzzed. He glanced down at it.
Mac.

“Hello?”

“Did you get it?” Mac demanded.

“Get what?”

“The report. I can see you’ve logged in, Sam—don’t play dumb.”

Sam swallowed, his eyes still glued to the screen. “I’m looking at it now.”

“Then you know.” Mac’s voice was low and oddly soothing. Sam wondered where the hell he was and how he had access to all this information.

“Know what?” Sam asked. “I don’t understand.”

Mac cleared his throat. “You know what the rest of us have been trying to tell you for weeks, Sam. It wasn’t your goddamn fault.”

“How—”

“The bomber was wired with a timer set to blow at a precise moment. There wasn’t a damn thing you could have done differently to change that.”

“But if I’d put a bullet between his eyes—”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. Whether you’d obeyed the order to fire, or hesitated in taking the shot or put down your weapon and played the fiddle while juggling oranges with your feet—none of it would have changed the outcome one bit.”

Sam sat silent, digesting the information. So it wasn’t his fault. All these weeks of assuming the worst, of questioning his abilities as a soldier and a protector and a man—

“I’m not a total fuckup then.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I could have told you that. You think I’d have you looking out for my sister if I didn’t believe you were the best man for the job?”

“No,” Sam said slowly, gripping the phone tighter. “Still, I failed to follow orders.”

“There are worse things in the world than that, Sam.”

The words hung there between them for a moment, and he wondered just how much Mac really knew. Maybe everything. Did it matter?

Sam stayed silent a moment, digesting the information. He wasn’t responsible for all those innocent deaths. He hadn’t screwed up—not completely, anyway. He was a good protector—a good soldier.

A good man.

“Look, Mac, I’ve gotta go.”

“Call me after you’ve read everything,” Mac said. “Tomorrow if you need time to process it.”

“I’ll do that. And Mac? One more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“What you just said about there being worse things than not following orders?” Sam took a steadying breath. “I’m in love with your sister. I don’t give a shit how overprotective you are or if you gut me with your field knife. I love her and I want to protect her and be with her and fight for her if I have to.”

It was Mac’s turn to be silent. It could be a bad sign, but Sam hoped it wasn’t.

“You there, Mac?”

He grunted. “We’ll talk about this when I get to town.”

“When’s that?”

“I’ll let you know when I arrive.”

Mac disconnected the call, and Sam resisted the urge to smile. He’d done it. He’d come clean with Mac.

But more importantly, he’d cleared his name. Not just his name, but his conscience. All this time with Sheri and the boys, he’d been proving to himself that he had it in him to serve and protect. To succeed where he’d failed before, albeit in a slightly different setting.

Maybe it was time to forgive himself.

A wave of ridiculous relief washed over him. He looked down at the gun in his lap, polished to perfection. He glanced back at the computer screen, reading the words more slowly this time.

The incident that occurred at 0800 hours in the warehouse beside Al-Aaimmani Mosque in Kabul has been determined to be—

“Sam?”

Her voice jolted him from his reverie. He turned to see her fingers curled around the door he’d left ajar, to see her pushing it open in slow motion.

Fuck.

He looked down at the pistol in his lap, at his military ID in the CAC reader, at the tremble in his own hands, and knew it was all over.

Chapter Twenty

Sam’s heart skidded to a halt in his chest. He didn’t breathe. He didn’t blink. He didn’t say a word as Sheri stared him down with the stoniest expression he’d ever seen in his life.

She folded her arms over her chest and looked him dead in the eye. “Were you planning to tell me?”

He didn’t reply, knowing anything he could possibly say would be useless.

Tell you what?
would earn him a well-deserved punch in the jaw
. Yes
or
no
wasn’t the right answer either, so he stayed silent, hating Mac, hating Jonathan, mostly hating himself.

He looked down at the gun in his lap, then at the laptop screen. He hadn’t been fast enough to hide either one.

Nice fucking sniper reflexes, asshole.

“Sheri, I can explain,” he began, even though he couldn’t. Not really.

And she knew it. She gave a hollow little laugh and shook her head. “Oh really? I’d love to hear you explain it. Tell me all about how a big, strapping Marine came to be my goddamn manny.”

Sam swallowed. “Did Jonathan tell you?”

She flinched, and he instantly regretted his words.

“My ex-husband knew? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Her voice was nearly a shriek now, and Sam said a grateful prayer the boys were heavy sleepers. Sheri stepped into the room and began pacing like a woman on the brink of throwing something. Sam didn’t blame her.

“Jonathan guessed,” Sam said, wondering if that made a difference. “And Mac knew, of course. And Grant, and—”

“You have to be joking,” she snapped. “Everyone under the sun knew but me? My goddamn ex-husband? My brothers? That guy at the beach today, for fuck’s sake. That’s what that was all about, right? You went there to spy on me, and he recognized you. Is that how it happened?”

He had to admire her powers of deduction. He stayed silent, wishing like hell there was something he could say to make this go away. The sick feeling in his gut told him that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.

Her eyes dropped to the CAC reader, then to the gun in his lap. She gave a furious little laugh.

“Nice gun. I’d say that’s a Marine-issued Colt .45 Close Quarter Battle Pistol with a custom trigger, manual safety, and glowing Tritium sights for low-light conditions.”

“How did you—?”

“I’m a firearm geek, Sam. I was a military wife, for chrissakes. And a military sister, and a military daughter. I’ve spent my whole goddamn life eating, sleeping, breathing, and drinking military trivia. I probably know more about the goddamn Marines than you do.”

“That’s likely,” he said, feeling stupid for ever thinking he could pull the wool over her eyes. Feeling ashamed for even trying.

“Let me see your shoulder.”

“What?”

“Take off your goddamn shirt and turn around.”

Not sure what else to do, he complied. He turned slowly, braced for her to hit or punch or kick. He had no doubt he deserved it.

“Teufelshunde,” she said softly. “That’s your tattoo. Devil dog, the unofficial mascot of the United States Marine Corps. Half the men in my family had it on bumper stickers and T-shirts, for chrissakes. I’m such an idiot.”

“No,” Sam said, turning back around. “You’re not an idiot. Whatever you take away from this, don’t let it be that.”

She shook her head, blinking back tears. “I trusted you.”

“Let me explain.”

“I thought you were different. But you’re not. You’re just like they are.”

He wasn’t sure who “they” were, but he knew he shouldn’t be flattered by the comparison. He knew he should defend himself, but he honest to God couldn’t come up with one thing to say in his own defense.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said. “And I didn’t want to deceive you.”

“No? Well congratulations, Sam. You’ve gone and accomplished two things you didn’t set out to do. You deserve a fucking medal.”

“I was just following Mac’s orders—”

“With no thought at all to
my
feelings?” She shook her head. “I was betrayed once by a controlling military jerk, Sam. I wanted better for my boys. For
me
. Following orders is no excuse for lying. For pretending to be honorable when you’re anything but.”

Sam swallowed as the words struck a nerve. “I did it to protect you. To keep my word to Mac. To help you when I knew you wouldn’t want to accept help from someone like me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Spare me. I don’t need protection or help, I need honesty. You pretended to be someone you weren’t. You let me trust you, Sam. Do you have any idea what it’s like to trust again after your husband betrays you?”

He shook his head and struggled to come up with something comforting to say. There was nothing.

His eyes slipped to the laptop on his desk. To the words that said he’d been cleared of any wrongdoing.

Did it even matter now?

He looked back at Sheri.

“I’m sorry.”

“Get out,” she said. “I want you out of the house by morning.”

“Sheri, please.” He stepped toward her, aching to take her into his arms and make everything okay again.

She took two steps back. “You lied to me. Just like Jonathan. And you conspired with my stupid brothers and my stupid ex to turn me into a fool.”

“We were just protecting you, Sheri. That’s what this was all about. What everyone wanted. We just wanted to keep you safe.”

She shook her head, her expression fierce. “You wanted to keep me locked in a cage. You wanted to control me like every other asshole military douchebag in my life. You thought you could decide all by yourself what’s best for me, and keep me in the dark.” She took a breath, her shoulders sagging. “There’s no room in my life for liars, Sam. And there’s no room in the boys’ lives for men who set that sort of example. I want you out of my house and out of my life for good.”

“But the boys.” He swallowed back the lump in his throat at the thought of never seeing them again. It hurt almost as much as the idea of life without Sheri. “Who’s going to watch the boys?”

“I’ll figure it out. I’ll take time off work or beg my mom to come or work out something with Kelli. I don’t know yet, but it’s not your concern.”

He swallowed again, fighting to think of any other defense he might be able to offer. Everything sounded futile. Everything but the truth.

And there was still that.

“I love you,” he said, and the words sounded right the instant they left his lips, so he swallowed and tried again with more conviction. “
I love you.
”

She shook her head and turned away. “I can’t believe a single word you say.”

She walked out of the room, leaving a chill in her wake.

…

Sheri stared glumly into her empty teacup the next afternoon and sighed.

“We’re skipping the tea this time and going straight for the bourbon,” Kelli said, sloshing a healthy serving into Sheri’s mug before pouring some into her own and taking a seat at the dining room table.

Sheri looked around the room, trying not to cry. On the floor near the door was one of the beanie peacocks Sam had bought for the boys, its head cocked at a jaunty angle. At the edge of the counter sat a turquoise dish towel with a singed edge, the casualty of one of Sam’s attempts at dinner. A cookbook sat open beside the stove, its pages splattered with something green.

Sheri shook her head. “At least it all makes sense now.”

“What makes sense?” Kelli said, taking a sip from her mug and making a face.

“Why he wasn’t all that great in the kitchen.”

“As long as he was good in the bedroom, did it really matter?”

Sheri frowned and took a drink. “That’s not helping.”

“Try a bigger sip.”

“No, I mean reminding me I slept with Sam. With a man I didn’t know at all. Another knuckle-dragging military jerk who lied to me. Don’t you find the pattern disturbing?”

Kelli shrugged, considering the question. “Not really. I mean, we all have our types. Your brother, for instance. Emotionally unavailable egomaniac who doesn’t know I’m alive—totally my type. When are you fixing us up?”

Sheri rolled her eyes and took a bigger sip of her drink. It burned all the way down, but Kelli had a point. It did make her feel better. “The only way I’d fix you up with my brother at this point is if you pledged to cut off his testicles while he slept. Seriously, after what he did to me—”

“What exactly did he do to you?” Kelli interrupted, swirling her finger around the top of her mug. “I mean, I’m mad because you’re mad, and I’ll insult the genitals of every male on the planet if it’ll help. But I’m not sure I understand what your brother did that was so awful.”

“He lied to me,” Sheri snapped. “He said he scoured the ends of the earth to hire the best possible nanny, and that Sam was it.”

“Well, he kinda was, wasn’t he? I mean, the boys loved him.”

I
loved him
, Sheri thought, then wanted to scrub her brain with a Brillo pad. Where the hell had that come from?

“Mac knew I was done with overbearing military assholes, and knew I didn’t want some meathead like that watching over me,” Sheri said. “So what did he do? He lied to me and hired the meathead anyway, and they all played me like a fool.” She blinked back tears of betrayal, tears that tasted just like the ones she’d cried when Jonathan left. “They all lied to me—Jonathan, Mac, Sam—every single one of them.”

Kelli set her mug down and reached for Sheri’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Honey, you’re my very best friend, and you know I’ve got your back through anything. And I know it sucks feeling like everyone but you was in on the scam. Even your idiot ex, for crying out loud. That’s lousy, no doubt about it.”

“But?” Sheri prompted, bracing herself for a dose of Kelli’s tough love.

“
But
, do you think it’s possible Sam and your brother deserve the benefit of the doubt here?”

“No.”

“I’m glad you’re keeping an open mind.”

Sheri shook her head and began breaking pieces off an oatmeal cookie on the plate between them. Sam had made the cookies the day before, accidentally using salt instead of sugar. They tasted like hell, but she couldn’t stop eating them.

“Look, all I’m saying is that your brothers wanted to protect you,” Kelli said. “They may have been a little misguided and ass-hatty about it, but they had your best interests at heart. And Sam was just stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

“Sam’s
hard place
is part of what caused this whole mess.”

“Stop that,” Kelli said, smacking the back of her hand. “If I remember the story correctly,
you’re
the one who pulled him into the shower with you.
You’re
the one who dropped to your knees because of a bunch of closet shelves.
You’re
the one who took off your robe in his room yesterday morning.”

Sheri shoved the cookie aside and scowled at her friend. “You know that part about me feeling foolish? This isn’t helping.”

“You weren’t foolish. You were attracted to a smart, strong, sexy, competent man who was good to your children. There are worse things in life, you know.”

Sheri scowled, hating the fact that a tiny part of her knew Kelli was right. Watching Sam pack his bags had been ten times more heart-wrenching than watching Jonathan do the same damn thing six months ago. Watching him tuck those little beanie peacocks into the crook of each boy’s arm had completely undone her.

“There’s definitely a pattern here,” Sheri said, dabbing at her eyes as she spotted the second beanie peacock under her chair. She kicked it across the room and looked back at Kelli. “I keep falling for the same macho assholes over and over.”

Kelli snorted. “Sam has about as much in common with your ex as a doughnut has in common with a bike tire. I can tell you right now which one belongs in your mouth and which should be ground into the pavement, and it’s not the doughnut.”

“You have a way with words,” Sheri admitted, feeling a surge of affection for her friend despite the fact that Kelli wasn’t exactly giving her the sympathetic butt-pats she’d hoped for. “I should probably wake up the boys.”

“How long have they been napping?”

“Awhile. Sam insisted on waking them up when he left to say good-bye. I’m not sure they understood, but they’ve been crying and fidgety all day, so I think they know something’s going on.”

“Any idea where Sam went?”

“No.”

“Do you think he just got on a plane and left?”

She shrugged. “That’s what I told him to do.”

“Does he usually follow your orders?”

“Depends on whether I’m naked. At least, it used to.”

Kelli squeezed her hand again and stood up. “I should probably get home. You sure you don’t want me to go grab some things and stay the night? We can make brownies and drink bourbon and insult penises.”

“Tempting, but no. I need to get used to being on my own.”

“Is your mom going to come over from Honolulu?”

Sheri nodded. “She offered to help me find a new nanny. And she promised to send Mac to bed without supper the next time she sees him.”

Kelli gave a firm nod. “Hopefully he’ll learn a lesson from all this.”