Phoenix (12 page)

“Stop playing your fucking mind games, McIntyre. I don’t want you. Not anymore.” She pointed an angry finger in his face. “Try that shit again and I’ll cut your dick off. Understand?”

His foot hurt like a motherfucker but he’d accomplished his goal. “Your body tells me more than your words ever will. You still want me.”

Caroline frowned. “You are such an arrogant jackass. Leave me alone. I’m with Gabe now. You’re nothing to me. You hear me? Nothing. You know what I got from you during our relationship? Sex and jewelry. That was it. And I don’t need you for either one of those anymore.”

Jesus. Every time. Every fucking time he made a move she’d jab right back. Fuck the cards. Right now the hand he’d been dealt was for shit. He had to fold and walk away, which was exactly what he did before she had a chance to cut him again.

He thinks he has me beat. And he doesn’t. I’m not going to let him win.

Her husband had been an asshole. Pulling that kind of shit, trying to manipulate her. Trying to rip her damn clothes off, more likely. She’d had to strike back. She couldn’t let him in. To bring him into her heart or into her bed would be mutually assured destruction. Jack was easy to swindle, easy to wound. His ego could so rapidly deflate at the mere mention of sex. Especially if he thought Caroline was having it with someone other than him.

If only she could forget about him and his goddamn hands. On the way to the cafeteria to work with Boone, on the way to the commissary to pick up supplies, on the way to her apartment before dinner…she spent most of the day peeking over her shoulder, convinced he was one step behind her. And not entirely sure she’d stop him if he tried anything. When she finally got a chance to catch up with the guys during their meal, she could no longer conceal her anger.

“I’m not being treated fairly,” she announced.

Gabe gave her a weary glance. Yeah, he’d gotten an infantry assignment. The one she wanted. And he looked tired all the time so they must have been working him hard. They hadn’t chatted as much lately; the five of them would get together for meals but Caroline finished quickly so she could get back to work. Her skills in the kitchen remained pretty damn shitty and she had to put in twice the effort to get anything done.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“He thinks this is
Private Benjamin
. This is a big joke to him.”

“You mean the commander,” Gig said.

Of course she meant Jack. She tried to keep her complaining to a minimum but her friends knew her favorite target. “Yes. He’s manipulating the hell out of this situation. Starting with that kitchen assignment. That shit was personal.”

“In what way?” Gig asked.

Caroline flailed around for an explanation that didn't sound totally lame and found it impossible. “Because,” she said. “He's the only person on this base who knows I can't cook.”

Jones laughed. “Believe me, Princess. We all know you can't cook.”

“You need to stop overanalyzing everything,” Gig said.

He was one to talk. He’d gotten a similarly sweet assignment working on covert operations and military intelligence. “What do you mean?” Caroline asked.

Jones and Crunch both busied themselves with their food, which left her only one other option.

“Gabe?”

He turned away from her and didn’t say anything, and Gig pulled her to the side of the table.

“You’re bringing this on yourself,” he said.

“Huh?”

“You asked to be treated like any other candidate, any other soldier. You’re getting what you wanted and you can’t handle it.”

“He’s not treating me that way. He’s constantly reminding me of our past.”

“You can’t expect him to forget,” Gig said. “Especially when you’re just as likely to fall out of your proper role when you’re speaking with him.”

Jesus Christ. Having a penis sometimes gave men the inclination to say really stupid shit. “Excuse me? My
proper role
?”

Gig sighed. “You know what I mean. You two have a history. And you’ve made it clear that you don’t want it to be a factor, in anything. So keep it that way.”

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t wearing a metaphorical apron all the damn time. “What recourse do I have when he gets out of line?”

He sighed again. “You don’t have a choice, Gerard. He’s in charge. Either suck it up and learn how to deal with him, as his wife, ex, whatever, or accept that there are boundary lines that will always be in flux.”

Caroline gritted her teeth, thinking of the night before. Jack had come dangerously close to crossing one of those lines. She didn’t want to admit that she kind of enjoyed it. “I don’t like this.”

“You don’t have to. You have to learn to deal with it better.” Gig patted her hand. “You’re almost through basic training. Then you’ll be able to turn your attention to something else. Focus on the things you can control.”

“Yeah,” Jones said. “Like this pie. You make this pie, Princess?”

Caroline stared at the little bit of baked magnificence on her own tray. “Spent all morning on the meringue.”

He took a bite. “Tell me again how you managed to swing the officer candidate track and you’re whipping egg whites all day.”

Crunch elbowed him in the ribs. “She does have a law degree, jackass.”

“And you’ve done a great job of convincing everyone that I’m a good leader or something,” Caroline said. “Although I’m not sure how that translates to dessert preparation.”

Jones laughed. “I was faking.” He started to stand up. “Lemme set those dudes straight.”

Crunch pushed him back into his seat. “Don’t be that guy, Jonesie.”

Caroline shoved a giant gob of mashed potatoes in her mouth and smiled. “Yeah, Jonesie, don’t be that guy,” she said, after she was done chewing.

“Man.” Jones shook his head. “I’m gonna be a fucking private and Princess here is gonna be baking goddamn cookies and leading us all.”

Caroline stuck her tongue out at him. “Gabe got to be an officer candidate too. Don’t forget that.” She turned to Gig, realizing he’d gotten lost in the shuffle. He, Jones, and Crunch were in the enlisted ranks. “You cool with that?”

Gig nodded. “Easier that way. I was on that career track in Chicago and couldn’t stand all the bullshit that went with it. I’d be happy with sergeant.”

Jones picked up his own fork of potatoes. “Did you help make these?”

Caroline grinned raffishly at him. “Don’t look so panicky. I didn’t do anything to them.”

“You sure?”

Gabe smiled at her. “They taste pretty good to me.”

She laughed. “All I did was the prep. Despite all this extra time in the cafeteria I still can’t do much in the kitchen.”

Jones and Crunch chuckled but Gig dug into his potatoes in what she assumed was a show of solidarity.

“We remember,” Gabe said.

Caroline thought of Boone, who was likely waiting for her to get back and help with planning the next day’s meals. “The guys who make the food are pretty cool,” she said. “Have you met them?”

“Jonesie’s been taking all their money,” Crunch said.

Jones leaned back in his seat, folding his hands behind his head. “Can’t help it if I have a good poker face.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t tell them I was friends with you,” Caroline said.

He smiled. “Nah, I already told them. Folks around here know we’re your posse.”

She threw a napkin at him. “Is that how we’re gonna roll once training is over?”

Jones shrugged and packed up his tray. “Seems like a solid idea to me. I gotta get going. Collect my winnings. Boone owes me a few bucks. Had a great hand last night.” He nudged Caroline. “Keep up the good work. That pie was fucking awesome.”

Caroline sighed as the other men stood up and said their goodbyes. Jones got to pick up a wad of cash and go back to his apartment and rest. Gig and Gabe would probably hang out and watch some TV with Crunch. Meanwhile she was stuck peeling another round of potatoes for breakfast. “Later,” she said.

*              *              *              *              *

“Major?” Jones said. “They made you a fucking
major
?”

He sounded as incredulous as she felt. Caroline stared down at the paper. “This has to be a mistake.” She turned to Gabe. “What’d you get?”

“Lieutenant,” he said.

“And the rest of you?” she asked.

“Corporal,” Jones said.

Crunch glanced at his paper again. “Corporal.”

Gig grinned at her. “Sergeant.”

At least one person got what he wanted. It wasn’t the most sophisticated system but the rebellion assigned ranks via memo after the completion of basic training. While Caroline had enjoyed her time with Boone in the cafeteria, being granted an unreasonably high rank after eight weeks seemed like a huge stretch.

“This can’t be right,” she said. “It has to be an administrative error.”

Gabe waved his paper at her. “I doubt it. You were way ahead of me in everything so it makes sense.”

There was only one explanation for this. “I need to talk to the commander,” she said.

“We were gonna get lunch,” Gabe said. “Maybe celebrate.”

Caroline shook her head, already turning in the direction of the main building. “I have to take care of something first.”

She managed to keep her tone neutral when she arrived at the commander’s office, and after a bit of resistance Schroeder allowed her inside. And there Jack was, sitting in a tall leather chair, his back to the window, smiling at her as she walked through his office door. Damn him.

Caroline told herself to keep her temper. Told herself that any rational person would be thrilled, wouldn’t see the conspiracies in everything. Told herself to start the conversation with a false pleasantry instead of jumping in like a hothead. And she failed. “I told you I didn’t want any special treatment,” she said.

Jack leaned back in his chair, the smile still plastered to his face. “You think I had something to do with the results of your training assessment.”

Yes
. “Didn’t you?”

“I don’t do anything other than sign off on recommendations.”

She found that extremely hard to believe. “You didn’t have a hand in it at all?”

He rocked back and forth. The rat bastard was enjoying himself a little too much. “No.”

“Then how-”

“Your instructors had much more contact with you than I did,” Jack said. “Not that I’m particularly happy about that fact. But all of them said the same thing.”

“And what was that?”

His smile grew wider. “I am not at liberty to say.”

Her husband’s diffident attitude bordered on unbearable. “You rigged this, Jack. Don’t deny it.”

“I didn’t rig anything,
Major
,” he said, and this time he sounded a little angry. “You’re complaining about a position you earned. I can’t believe this.”

She’d spent half of her officer candidate school doing glorified KP duty in the cafeteria. “I didn’t
earn
anything.”

“You did,” Jack said.

“There are maybe a handful of majors here.”

“There are five, including you.”

And four of them were his fucking advisors. That was some seriously shady math. “So I get to waltz into that rank without any further requirements?”

“You went through the same training everyone else did.”

Sure. “Has anyone else ever been assigned such a high rank straight out of training?”

Jack busied himself with some papers on his desk. “No.”

“Let me make sure I have this correct. You come here and they automatically make you their commander. I get here and they put me almost as high up as you on the food chain, no questions asked.”

“That’s not entirely true,” he said. “Your instructors analyzed your progress every step of the way. If you wanted to be in charge and partnered with me, all you had to do was say the word when you first arrived.” He paused. “But you didn’t. So this is what you get instead.”

She didn’t want to be in charge. She didn’t want to be partnered with him. But she wasn’t sure what she wanted instead. “And you had no part in the decision making at all?”

“No.” He smirked. “I still outrank you, if it makes you feel any better.”

If he hoped for deference he wasn’t going to get it. Not any more than she owed him out of respect for his supposed position. “So, realistically, being a major is almost the same as being enlisted.”

Jack sighed. “No, it’s not. Ranks are relatively arbitrary. This is a reflection of the respect your trainers think you deserve. This isn’t the actual military. But we do have ways of telling people how we feel about their potential and abilities. Your trainers and I agree that you should be leading other soldiers, not following behind someone else.”

Caroline folded her arms across her chest. The rumor mills. The assumptions about the few women on the base. The assignments the rest of her classmates received. It didn’t take a genius to see how this would play out, and it seemed like a crapfest for her. “People are going to think I got ranked this highly because of my relationship with you.”

“What relationship? The one where you regard me with cool detachment or the one where you barely speak to me unless you’re biting my head off?”

He was bitter. She didn’t much care. “You know what I mean.”

Jack cracked his knuckles. “No matter what I say, you’re not going to believe me. So what’s the point? I don’t know why you aren’t happy about this. Do you want me to make you a grunt instead?”

It did have its appeal. She wouldn’t have to think as much. “I don’t know.”

“You’re worthy of an officer position and you know it.”

Well, that was a little insulting to the rest of the troops. “You think those enlisted men are a bunch of losers, don’t you?”