Rhapsody (The Bellator Saga Book 5) (3 page)

“Jack.”
Caroline drifted her fingers over his hair, and he flinched. He shuffled toward the head of the bed, but made no other move to leave.

“Don't,” he said quietly. “Don't pretend you care.”

She withdrew her hand, curling her fingers around the mattress. “I do-” Caroline felt the tears rising up and took a moment to regain control. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

He was silent for a long time. There wasn’t a clock in the room but she could swear she heard a metronome ticking off every second that passed, reminding her that any time she opened her mouth was yet another opportunity to destroy everything in her wake.

“I want you to get better,” he said, his voice grating through every word. “That’s all I want. Nothing else. I want you in my life and I’ll take it however I can get it. Even if it means you hate me with every fiber of your being.” Jack leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You’ve still got that spark, Caroline. You just can’t see it right now. I’m not giving up. I lost you once and I’m not going through that again.” He kissed her forehead. “When you’re ready to be discharged you’ll be staying with me. No arguments. You’re not going to be alone.”

Jack stared at the items in his cart. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get all that random stuff back to his apartment. Maybe he should have taken Schroeder’s keys when he wasn’t looking. Not that the commander couldn’t have a vehicle if he wanted one; it was simply unnecessary. His residence was within short walking distance of anyplace important on the base, and if he wanted to go further all he had to do was jog. No Jeep, no tank, not a single thing could compare to what he was used to driving. Walking or running was just fine. It burned off more negative energy.

He hoped he’d picked out the right things. That she’d like them. That her tastes hadn’t changed that much. Or that she’d even give him the chance to surprise her with them. His generosity didn’t change the fact that he remained a little pissed at her behavior in the hospital. For that split second when he thought she’d turned back into herself again…he should have known better. But dammit, she was scared as hell. That attitude, that demeanor, that reflexive anger was a cover. Caroline was getting worse at keeping up a performance.

Jack had taken Dr. Haddad’s words to heart. He would continue to try, he would put up with what he could, because he knew his wife would come to her senses. A few special touches certainly couldn’t hinder the process.

“Daydreaming, are we?”

He heard Natalie’s voice and looked up. “Is it that obvious?”

Natalie picked up one of the items in the cart. “Either that or you’re really captivated by jasmine scented body wash.”

He smiled sheepishly. “It does smell nice.”

“Going for a different approach with your hygiene?” She laughed at him and didn’t wait for an answer. “I know who this is for.”

He would endeavor to be nice but didn’t want to be a goddamn patsy. “Do you think I’m trying too hard?”

Natalie shook her head. “That’s impossible. I think Caroline will appreciate it.”

Jack pointed at the bottle in her hand. “She used to buy that stuff all the time. I’m surprised we even have it here.”

Natalie dropped the bottle back into the cart. “This is pretty average in terms of quality. She didn’t go for your high end products?”

Oh, to have more than a few people on the base who treated him like a person. Affectionate sarcasm was appreciated. “I am not that pretentious,” Jack said, not wanting to tell her that the fragrance would linger for hours after Caroline had showered, driving him insane. He could practically smell it from feet away, even though Natalie hadn’t opened the bottle. His face flushed again. Christ, he
was
some high school kid.

“Or
she
wasn’t,” Natalie corrected.

“No,” he said quietly, regaining his senses. “She wasn’t.”

She patted one of the boxes near the front. “New dishes?”

“I don’t have any.”

“Really, Jack? Do you have anything useful in your apartment?”

He’d learned to make do. He had most of what he needed. Except one thing. “Not much. Clothes, furniture, briefing books. That’s about it.”

“And booze,” Natalie said.

Jack was glad he hadn’t slipped a couple of bottles of bourbon into the cart. He was fine with her playful ribbing but wasn’t in the mood for justifiable judgment. “Not as much as you’d think.”

“I know,” she said. “You need to work on that. You’re getting better but you drank way too much when you first got here.”

He didn’t care to discuss his borderline alcoholism, no matter how functional it was. He could stop any time he wanted. He just didn’t want to. “How’s Caroline doing?” he asked. “I haven’t been over there today.”

“Good,” she told him. “I think I’ll set her free in a few days.”

“Any way you could do it sooner? She really – she doesn’t care for hospitals.”

“She’s not quite healed, Jack. I don’t think she should be alone.”

Hadn’t the doctor made the connection with the items in the cart? “That’s been taken care of,” he said. “She’s staying with me. I’ll be taking a few days to assist in her recovery.”

Natalie looked surprised. “Oh. I guess I can let her out tomorrow if you’ll be there.”

“I’ll do whatever I have to do.” Jack pulled a keychain out of his pocket, removing one of the keys and handing it to Natalie. “Here’s a spare for my apartment. Make sure she takes it. I don’t want her discharged unless she stays with me.”

She put the key in her purse. “Do you really think this approach is going to work?”

“I’m not sure I’m going to get another chance.” Jack paused. “Do you think it will?”

Natalie squeezed his hand. “Yes,” she said softly. “But you know what she’s up against. How she might act. She’ll fight it for a while. I’m just warning you.”

He was ready for whatever might come his way. “I know.”

She smiled at him. “Keep showering her with gifts and it might go faster.”

“Or it might make her want to punch me in the face.”

“That too. Take it slow at first.”

“Should I lead with the beauty products?”

Natalie laughed. “I’d maybe make her dinner first. From the looks of it, you’re set for weeks.”

Jack rubbed his neck. “I don’t shop much.”

“How are you going to get this back to your place? Got a pack mule?”

He grinned. He could handle his purchases easily but the companionship was worth the compromise. Natalie would be willing to help without complaint. “Want to give me a hand?”

“Sure.”

“Here you go,” Natalie said cheerily, handing her the key to Jack’s apartment.

“Did you really have to escort me out of the hospital?” Caroline asked.

Natalie shrugged. “Wasn’t sure you knew how to find the place. Plus I had an obligation to make sure you got here in one piece. Jack will be here shortly.” She gave Caroline a peck on the cheek. “Behave yourself.”

Great. Caroline twisted the key between her fingers, watching Natalie walk away. The doctor was still under the mistaken impression that she and Jack were on the road to reunion. Caroline had been paroled from her hospital stay but her extended punishment entailed having to spend quality time with the commander.

She hadn’t bothered telling Natalie she wasn’t going to stay. Jack expected her to be waiting for him when he returned from his late meetings. But after that she was going back to her own room, no matter what he tried to trick her into doing.

She turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. The apartment was spartan but clean, and quite spacious. Being the rebel commander had its advantages. He arguably had the best living circumstances on the base. Before she realized it she was snooping around.

Jack practically had a gourmet kitchen, even though Caroline knew he didn’t cook for himself. Maybe she was wrong, because when she swung open the fridge door it was fully stocked. His occasional forays into the cafeteria didn’t explain how he fed himself. Did he have people bring him his meals? That would be a task he’d enjoy assigning to someone who had pissed him off. She picked around the cupboards and through the drawers. A box in the corner was filled with a new set of dishes, some pots and pans, some baking supplies. He was holding back on her.

“You have a dishwasher? You barely have any fucking dishes. Pretentious bastard.”

Caroline laughed lightly, realizing she’d said the words out loud. The first sign of a befuddled mind - talking to people who weren’t there. She glanced around the living room and kitchen one final time before marching into the bedroom. The door had been closed but she didn’t care. If he dared to order her to stay with him he was going to give up every inch of his privacy.

She laughed again when she got inside. The room was a mess. He clearly had presumed she wouldn’t come in there. The bed was a twisted knot of sheets, there were papers and briefing books everywhere, and his clothes were strewn all over the floor. There were a few boxes of supplies in the corner and an empty laundry basket next to the window. Caroline randomly threw a few shirts and pants into it, feeling better once she could see the carpet again.

A wooden photo frame on the nightstand caught her eye and she picked it up. It was a picture of the two of them on the couch in her office in Rayburn. She was sitting on Jack’s lap, one arm around his neck, playfully tugging at his tie with her other hand as they gazed affectionately at one another. They were both laughing.

They’d agreed to pose for a photo session with some pseudo-tabloid for a story about their engagement and impending wedding. Caroline hadn’t wanted to do it but his campaign manager thought it would be some good cheap publicity after Jack declared his intent to run for governor. Nothing like pandering to the masses. They were goofing around while the photographer claimed he was adjusting his lenses, but soon after the images were published they figured out he was full of shit. Jack found it hilarious. Caroline suspected he knew what was happening all along. It had taken years for her to fully realize her naïveté.

After the article was published, she received nasty notes from large numbers of ultrafeminists and ultratraditionalists who seemed to think that she was acting as a poor example to young girls, for completely contradictory reasons. At the time, she figured she was doing something right if she managed to piss off such diametrically opposed groups of people.

Caroline sat on the bed and closed her eyes, trying not to think about everything that had happened since that photo shoot. She rubbed her fist against her forehead, attempting to block out the memories of that day. Hearing her own exultant voice, remembering Jack’s jokes, reflecting on the fact that she felt a perplexingly splendid pain in her face from smiling and laughing all day. She tried to forget the joyful woman in the picture, willing herself to pretend it was someone else.

“I see you found the place,” Jack said.

Caroline looked up, startled. He was holding a teddy bear in his hands. She hastily put the frame back on the nightstand. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Natalie told me you’d been discharged. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He handed her the bear. “I got this for you. Thought it might help you sleep better.”

“Oh,” she said. “Thanks.”

“I got you some tea too, but the bear was cute.” He smiled. She must not have been able to hide her confusion. “Did you think it was mine?”

She’d considered the possibility. He deserved comfort more than she did, though a stuffed animal wouldn’t necessarily fit the bill. “I don’t know.”

“Something like that might help me sleep better too, but I wanted to – it felt like the right thing to do.”

Dammit. It drove her nuts when he could figure out what she was thinking. He was still so good at it. Caroline stroked the bear’s head. It was soft and furry. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Jack picked up the framed photo. “That was a good day,” he said quietly. “A good few years. A good life.” He looked down at her. She was hugging the bear tightly. “Sweetheart?”

Caroline wiped her eyes, setting the bear on a pillow. “I’m fine.”

He surveyed the room. “I see you picked up a bit.”

“You live like a pig.”

“The rest of the apartment is clean.”

“You don’t really want me to analyze the reasons behind that, do you?”

“No,” Jack said, returning the picture to the nightstand. “I know what you’ll say. Conceited blah blah blah appearances blah blah blah secret slothfulness. Blah. Blah. Blah.”

“You do a very good impression of me.”

“That was a self-analysis.”

“Good for you. Been reading Freud lately?”

“No. I’ve been busy trying to lead a revolution and nurse my wife back to health.”

He was hitting them all today. “I couldn’t help but notice which one you mentioned first,” she said. “Is that your priority?”

“No, but said wife doesn’t like when I tell her how I feel about her. So maybe I’ll stop saying it.” Jack started walking toward the living room. “Why don’t you come out here and we’ll talk.”

Caroline sighed but followed him anyway.

“Have a seat,” he said.

She sat down on the couch, feeling like a sadly obedient lackey.

“You can take the bedroom,” he said. “I’ll sleep out here.”

That didn’t seem fair. And it was pretty obvious he wasn’t going to let her walk out the door without a fight. “Jack, I don’t think-”

“You don’t get to argue.”

“Fine.”

“I don’t have much food here but I can get more,” he said. “I don’t have many pots and pans or dishes, either.”

Was he not aware of the contents of his own apartment? “I saw some in the corner of the kitchen.”

“I bought them yesterday, just in case.”

“You expect me to cook for you?”

“Yes, Caroline. That’s precisely the reason I want you to stay here. Because of your mediocre culinary abilities.”

He was indeed in rare form. She didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. “I’m not cooking for you. Not even baked goods.”

“Then don’t.”

“I’m not doing anything for you.”

Jack smiled. “You’re already doing something for me just by being here.”

Ugh? Were his snippy responses a cheap form of flirtation? “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, his voice sharp. “It gives me peace knowing I can keep an eye on you.”

Caroline didn’t like this at all. “You know, I’d really be more comfortable in my own room.”

“Too late. We gave it to a new recruit.”

Did he think she’d buy that line? They’d had maybe fifteen recruits in the past six months. “Bullshit. Camp Pendleton was one of the largest military bases in the United States. This place has more living quarters than I can count.”

Jack smiled again. “The commander does what the commander wants. Besides, the doctors told me you shouldn’t be unsupervised.”

“Natalie failed to mention that to me.”

“Go ask her.”

Goddammit. She knew what the answer would be. Caroline sighed again, more dramatically this time. “It’s not worth the hassle if you’re making all my decisions for me. Where’s my stuff?”

“I packed up your things and brought them here.”

Which had to have taken all of five seconds. For someone who had once been a borderline hoarder, she had recently found the need to live with very few items of consequence. “What about Gabe’s belongings?” she asked.

Jack took the seat next to her. “They’re here too. You know I wouldn’t do something like that to him. Or to you.”

Caroline scooted as far away from him as possible, until she was practically falling off the couch. A smooth move he was sure to notice. “I still don’t like this.”

He swung his legs up on an old coffee table. “I know you don’t. Doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying it a little.”

“I bet you are.” She took a blanket that had been lying haphazardly on the couch and put it around her.

“Are you cold?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Are you going to be this stubborn from now on?” he asked.

“Depends. If I am can I get my own room again?”

“Nope. You’re stuck with me. Better make the best of it.”

Caroline searched for the proper word to describe his behavior.
Vexatious
. Jack was so incredibly vexatious. “Must be nice calling all the shots.”

His cocky grin made him look about twenty years younger. “Oh, sweetheart. It is.” He moved closer to her and she pulled the blanket tighter. Jack let out a frustrated breath. “Really, Caroline. Stop making this so hard. It doesn’t have to be difficult.”

She leaned her head on the armrest. “Why should I make this easy for you? You’re not making it any fun for me.” She curled up and closed her eyes, though she knew it would be impossible to sleep. She heard Jack get off the couch and kneel on the floor in front of her.

“What do you want from me?” he whispered.

Caroline hung her head. She was tearing him apart and she knew it. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

He stood up and didn’t speak for what seemed like an abnormally long time.

“Well,” he said. “When you figure it out, fill me in.” Jack squeezed her hand through the blanket and placed a baggie on her lap. “The staff gave this to me after you were brought in. I thought you’d want it back. Get some rest. I’ll clean up the bedroom for you.”

She opened her eyes. Inside the baggie was his wedding band attached to the chain she was wearing when she left on the mission, along with a small note written in his handwriting.

You may have given up on yourself but I never will.