Battle Scars, page 5
I almost forget why we are here as we sit side by side, barely touching, rocking back and forth on the swing.
"This is what normal must feel like," I say to her.
"What's normal?" she laughs as she leans her head against my good shoulder.
I lean my head against hers and watch the sunset over the lake. It's so quiet. So peaceful. I suddenly notice that I’m finally feeling tired, something I have not felt in such a long time.
"I think I'm going to head up to bed."
"It's only seven o’clock," she reminds me.
"I know, but I haven't felt tired in a really long time. I should probably take advantage of it."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
I simply nod my head as I stand up and put my hand out to her.
When we get to the bedroom, we separate. I walk over to the closet and undress before putting on a big t-shirt. When I'm done, I turn around, and she is standing by the bed waiting for me. I almost forgot that she needs my help.
"I'm sorry. I almost forgot," I apologize as I move behind her. Carefully, I undo the strap that wraps around her body and holds her arm in place. Next, I gently remove her sling making sure I don't jostle her arm too much. Then I pull her shirt over her head working it over her arms as efficiently as possible. Her shoulder is healing, but it's several different shades of blue and purple and green and yellow. Not really thinking about it I lean forward and softly kiss her bruises.
Reaching around her I unfasten her pants then work them down her thin muscular legs. She is so beautiful, and I can feel my heart begin to hammer. Standing back up behind her I wrap my arms around her and place my hands on her stomach as I nuzzle my face into her neck. Slowly I kiss her jaw, then her ear down the side of her neck. Suddenly she pulls her head away, and I step back feeling embarrassed.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just - ..."
"No, don't be sorry. It's okay. It's just... I have to be careful. Could you help me put this back on?"
"Oh of course," I laugh shyly as I help put her arm back into her sling and wrap. After I fasten it, she takes her good arm and pulls me to her by the waist.
"This time, if you kiss me, I won't run," she promises.
"Are you sure?" I ask slyly.
"Try me..."
Suddenly I'm very nervous. I haven't kissed anyone since Lara, and even though I promised myself, I would never be intimate with anyone else like that I can't help myself. I am so drawn to her and feel so connected to her that I feel like I would be cheating myself if I didn't do this. My body wants this so bad, but my head is resistance.
Finally, my mouth gives in, and I lean forward pressing my lips softly to hers.
It's innocent at first, and we just enjoy the sweet softness of lips pressed against lips.
But slowly our lips start to move, growing hungrier and hungrier as they part. Her mouth is sweet, like the cherry Chapstick I saw her put on earlier, her tongue slick as it slides against my own, her teeth sharp as they nip at my sensitive flesh.
I can feel my skin getting hotter, my middle getting wetter just her kissing me and I have to remind myself that we have to go slow. I feel my insides shaking, and the way I feel is reminiscent of the night I lost my virginity.
"Are you okay?" she asks smoothing my hair back.
"Yeah, it's just... I haven't kissed anyone since Lara."
"Is that why you wouldn't let me touch you?"
I shake my head yes.
"Will you let me touch you now?"
And I shake my head yes again.
"Sit on the edge of the bed..." she directs me.
Carefully she kneels between my legs and pushes me back as she begins tugging my underwear down with one hand. She positions herself so her that her injured shoulder is where it is most protected and then leans down and gives my center a long slow lick. I can't help but jerk up, arching my back, it feels so fucking good. And then she uses her good arm to hold me down as she licks and nips and sucks between my legs until I'm squirming and shaking. It doesn’t take her long to push me over the edge, and within minutes I am cumming so hard that I squirt.
Slowly and methodically she licks all of me until I'm trembling again... and again... and again. By the fourth orgasm, I am exhausted, but I need to taste her. I need to make her feel good. I push her away gently, but suddenly I am overcome with emotion, and I start to cry.
And I can't stop crying.
Without saying a word, she moves onto the bed behind me and cradles me against her holding my head with her hand and softly kissing my forehead and cheeks. I cry until I am exhausted, and I can barely keep my eyes open, but I want to finish what we started. She wipes my tears away and holds me as much as she can with one arm. When I'm finally feeling calm, I turn and look at her.
"Can I go down on you?"
"Baby, you're exhausted. We can finish this later."
"Please?" I almost beg. I need this. She looks at me and knows that I won't take no for an answer. I have to do this. She nods her head and then carefully leans back on the bed, spreading her legs. I move around and immediately bury my face in her. She smells and tastes so good. I devour her and suckle her until I make her cry out and it makes me feel alive. Like I have a purpose. And at that moment, I feel whole. And I don't feel broken anymore.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Raquel:
I wake up and look at the clock. It's after midnight, and I sigh disappointedly as I realize that Andy is not in bed with me. Maybe she was having bad dreams again and sleeping on the couch?
I decide to go check.
She is not in the living room on the couch like I thought she would be. As a matter of fact, she is nowhere in the house.
"Where the hell could she have gone?" I ask myself out loud.
I go to the counter and pick up my cell which I bring out to the back porch to see if I can call her, but as I step outside, I see the light on in the loft of the garage. That must be her. But what the hell was she doing out there at this hour?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Raquel:
I walk up the stairs to the loft and find her sitting at a small table with her head in her hands.
"Andy?” I call gently.
She looks up at me and quickly wipes the tears from her cheeks. Her face is red and splotchy, but she's smiling at me. Her eyes though... her eyes are blank. Almost crazed looking.
"Andy?" I call again. "Are you okay?"
As I walk towards her, I see what is in front of her. By her right side is a small silver revolver. Maybe a .38? I'm not sure. My knowledge of firearms is minimal, but I'm sure that it's a revolver. Next to that is a photograph of a beautiful, blonde, smiling boy who looks to be about six, and is the spitting image of her. To the right of the picture are three bullets, and a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels.
"He was calling me," she says almost joyfully.
"Who was?" I ask as I approach the table.
"You should probably go back to the house, Raquel. Go back to bed."
She doesn't look at me as she says this.
"Who was calling you?" I ask again.
And she laughs at me like I'm crazy.
"Connor. Of course."
"Andy, why don't you come back to bed. You're exhausted."
"But that's where you're wrong Raquel. For the first time... in a long time? I feel good. I am ready to make peace."
I remember reading that one of the signs of Percocet abuse was hallucinations, and after witnessing her chew up to nine or more at a time, I was starting to fear that this might be the case.
"Why don't you give me the gun Andy? We can go inside and talk about it."
"This gun?" she asks holding it up for me to see.
"Yes, that gun."
"Nah. I'm going to need this," she says putting it back on the table.
"And what do you need it for?" I ask nervously.
She picks the gun back up and then a bullet and places it into the chamber of the gun.
"This one? This one here is for McKinney. Specialist Darren McKinney. He was twenty-eight years old from Lincoln, Nebraska. He had a wife. Two daughters. And a son on the way. Time of death? 15:07 September 3, 2016."
She picks up the second bullet and slides it next to the first one.
"This is for Specialist Thomas Laramie, thirty-six years old. He was from Minnesota and engaged to his high sweetheart who he had just found again before we were deployed. He had a teenage daughter... Mary, I think. Fourteen years old. His sister Caroline was taking care of her. Time of death? 15:22 September 3, 2016."
Finally, she picks up the last bullet and kisses it gently.
"And this one? This one... this one is for you Connor. My sweet, sweet boy."
She kisses the bullet one more time before sliding it into the chamber next to the other two.
"I could have saved him you know?" she says finally looking at me.
I carefully move to behind the chair across from her and rest my good hand on it.
"Before I was a weekend warrior with the Army I was an EMT. I was the first on the scene of the accident. My partner described a scene of total tragedy, just blood, and carnage everywhere. Tractor trailer vs. a Saturn and we know the Saturn doesn't stand a chance. I didn't realize it was them when I came to the scene, but my partner... he knew, and he tried to stop me. But the EMT in me took over and then I froze. When I could finally move, I went to Lara first even though I knew she was dead. She had been thrown through the windshield, and her head skidded across the pavement leaving pieces of it on the road. That's why there's no bullet for her. I couldn't save her. But him? I could have saved. Just like I could have saved McKinney and Laramie. If I had just been a few minutes earlier... "
She spins the chamber of the gun and snaps it closed. Holding it under her chin, she announces, " Time of death? 12:07 March 21, 2016."
And she pulls the trigger.
"Jesus Christ! No!" I scream as I jump in fright.
The hammer clacks into the empty chamber, but my heart is in my throat. My insides are shaking as I reach towards her.
"Andy... please... " My voice is trembling. "Give me the gun."
"I still have two more tries," she says with an eerily calm voice.
Again, she pulls the trigger.
*Clack*
The empty chamber echoes in my ears and my heart continues to race.
"Andy... PLEASE!" I beg. "Just give me the gun."
She removes the gun from her chin and looks me dead in the eye.
"I'm a failure Raquel. Why should I?"
"Because...."
I pause as I try to find the right words.
"That's not good enough."
She takes the gun and puts it back under her chin.
"BECAUSE," I say in a panicked voice. "Because... while you couldn’t save those men... and while you couldn’t save Connor ... you were able to save me."
She continues to look at me, and I swear I see her mind switch and come back but then her eyes grow dark again.
"Bullshit," she spits out instead and presses the gun more firmly into the soft part of her neck.
"It's true. It's true, Andy. I swear to God! You saved my life! More than once. You saved me when I met you in the bar that night... you saved me when you pulled me out of that dumpster... and you saved me by bringing me here. I need you. Please! I need you! Give me the gun."
Tears begin to form in her eyes and then spill out of the corners. I can see the overwhelming sadness, and it breaks my heart. But I can fix it. I know I can.
I love her.
"I love you," I finally say quietly. "I do. I love you."
She looks at me, her eyes wide with shock and sadness and surprise.
"I love you," I say again as I reach closer with my hand for the gun.
We stand in silence for what seems like forever and then finally she hands me the gun.
"I love you too."
She crumples on the table, sobbing. I put the gun behind me by the window, and then I walk over to her, pulling her into my arms and holding her as close as possible with my ruined shoulder. And then... she finally allows herself to grieve.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Andrea:
One year later...
"And as I held the gun to my neck and pulled the trigger I really did feel a sense of peace. If she had not been there, I would have kept trying. She really saved my life that night."
"So, what happened to the man that attacked her?"
"He uh, he was arrested while we were still in Yosemite. He pleaded innocent, and the judge was going to release him for lack of evidence. But Raquel was smart. She kept logs: names, dates, times, money transactions... and she threatened to go public with it. So, he pleaded guilty and took three years. It's not much, but it's better than nothing. And she didn't plan on being around here when he got out anyway."
"So, she's moved on from that life?"
"You could say that. She moved to San Bernardino, and she's attending some college classes trying to finish her Bachelor's in education."
"And how do you feel about that?"
"You know, I'm happy for her. I'm really happy she got away from that life. She deserves to be happy. She's a beautiful woman, a beautiful soul."
"And how are you, Andy? How are you really doing?"
"Well, my shoulder is healed. It's not 100%, but it's just about there and considering they didn't think I'd get any use back I'd say that's pretty good. I just finished the police academy, and I start nights in a few weeks. I also no longer take pain meds of any kind. I'd say things were going pretty well."
"Have you thought about dating again?"
"One step at a time, Doc. But I'm keeping my options open."
"A year ago, you would have cut my heart out with your eyes if I even hinted at that. I'm glad to see you finally opening up."
"Me too, Doc. It feels good. I feel good finally."
"You can tell Andy. You can really tell. Well, time's up."
"Time's up. Same time next week?"
"Same time next week."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Flashback:
Andrea:
Raquel helps me up from the table and wraps her arm around my waist as she walks me back to the house. Carefully she helps me undress and put my pajamas on, and then holds me from behind as I continue to cry. When there are no tears left, she cleans my face, and I finally drift off to sleep. And I sleep, and sleep, and sleep.
When I wake up the next day, I expect to feel refreshed, but withdrawal has set in. Everything hurts, and then the vomiting and diarrhea start. I beg her to just give me one, but she holds my hair and rubs my back and refuses to give in. I'm angry and harsh with my words, but I'm too weak to physically do anything, so she just takes my wrath. For two weeks she just takes it, but by the end of the second week the cramping and chills have begun to subside, and I am beginning to feel somewhat normal. I'm still in a great deal of pain, but I'm learning to cope with it. By the third week, I am still feeling tired, but most of my withdrawal symptoms have faded. I can think about food without vomiting, and I beg her to order us some pizza which she agrees to.
At this point, her sling has come off, and while it's still tender she has most of her range of motion back, and she can bear a little weight. At the beginning of the week, we get word from Mike that Jerome has been caught and he's being held without bail. On Wednesday we discuss me leaving ahead of her to get back into therapy. I'll go on Thursday and Lena will head back on Sunday to be back in time for Jerome's arraignment. We both think that it will keep me from relapsing. That night as we sit at the kitchen table and eat pizza (again) we realize just how connected we have become.
"I just wanted to say thank you," I say as I take a bite of my pizza.
"For what?"
"For what? For everything. I'm leaving tomorrow, and I just think that it's important for you to know that from the moment I met you my life has changed. And while the things that have happened to us since we met may not have always been the best, my time spent with you has been. There is not a single second I have been with you that I regret. You saved me. You really did." A single tear falls from my eye, but I smile at her. I mean every single word I say.
She looks at me, and I can see the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Suddenly she is up and on me, straddling my lap as she latches on to me with an open mouth and exploring tongue. We kiss breathlessly for what seems like hours but is only minutes. Finally, she pulls away as she wraps her arms around my neck and digs her fingers into my hair. We kiss periodically, no rush, just enjoying each other. She leans her head back and looks down at me with hooded eyes.
"Take me to bed."
Her words are a mixture of demand and pleading and I immediately comply with her request. It would be far more romantic if I could carry her to bed with her legs around my waist, but neither of us has the adequate strength back in our injured arms to even try it, so we just laugh as we half walk and half waddle to the bedroom, neither of us wanting to let go. There we strip off our clothes, and then we strip off our inhibitions as we make love repeatedly with mouths and tongues and fingers and hands until neither of us has a single ounce of energy left.
In the morning we eat breakfast side by side with her in the crook of my arm but in silence as we wait for my cab to come to pick me up. I am leaving her the car and the gun, just in case, and I had Mike ask the local police department to periodically check up on her. It'll only be a couple of days so she will be fine she assured me. She might head back early and stay with a friend for a while. Both of us cringe when we hear the taxi pull up and beep its horn. I get up, and I give her a long kiss on the cheek before I walk towards the door picking up my bag.
