Ice (Elite Forces #1)(22)

"Hey, fuckhead!" I shout into the phone where I placed it on the counter  before walking to the other side of the kitchen to grab a bottle of  water out of the fridge. It's eleven in the morning, too damn late for  coffee.

"Fuck off. Wait, you've been fucking off for a week now. Get your ass in  here so I can leave and find me some hot piece of ass to take home and  fuck." Some things will never change. I shake my head as I listen to my  partner carrying on about how deprived his dick has been since I've been  gone. He's so full of fucking shit. That man will fuck any goddamn  thing. He's a hundred times worse than I've ever been. My desire to pick  up other women vanished the minute I saw Jade. I shake her from my mind  and chug down the entire bottle of water, toss the empty plastic into  the garbage, snatch the phone off of the counter, and head out the front  door. "Whatever, fucker. I'll be there in a few," I tell him before I  end the call in the middle of him bitching.

I stare down at my phone. The urge to call her is grinding away at my  gut. Instead, I toss the phone into the empty passenger seat and grab my  shades and my ball cap. I'm giving her the space she asked for, for now  anyway.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


JADE


I knew the moment I woke up drenched in sweat, my entire body trembling  from the nightmare that won't leave my damn mind, that I had to leave.  It didn't matter that the sun was set to rise. I had to get the hell out  of there before I woke him. The man has been through enough shit to  have to deal with a wacked-out woman who can't handle what she has been  trained to do. I don't need coddled, or for anyone to tell me I will be  alright. I need to do this my way.

So what did I do? Like a coward, I fumbled through the dark of his  bedroom. Found all of my clothes and tiptoed out of his room. Found a  half bath in the hallway and quickly got dressed, picked up my bag from  the floor where he dropped it, and quietly exited his house. Called a  cab to pick me up. My eyes stayed glued to his front door, praying he  wouldn't notice I was gone. It wasn't until I pulled away that I let out  a deep breath he didn't wake. Not that I wouldn't have left anyway, but  I couldn't deal with seeing the look on his face. He wants to help, I  appreciate him for that. But how can anyone help me if I don't try to  help myself?

By the time the cab driver dropped me off to retrieve my car, my nerves  were frantic and my chest was so very tight. Every noise had me jumping.  It was like gunfire to my ears, strangling me and making it hard to  breathe, not to mention hard to drive. Turning on the radio to some  random classical station to drown out the noises from outside, I made my  way down the road and away from Commander Kaleb Maverick.

By the time I made the three-hour drive to my apartment, thankful my  roommate was already gone to work, I was a mess and coated in sweat. My  chest was aching to the point I felt like I was having a heart attack as  anxiety swarmed around me.

By the time I was inside my apartment, my hands were shaking so bad I  dropped the card my superior officer handed me on the floor twice before  falling to my knees in a crying mess. Through tear-stained eyes I  managed to dial the psychiatrist's number. I attempted to gain some sort  of control before speaking to her receptionist, but not enough that she  didn't recognize the panic in my voice before she placed me on hold,  returning shortly to tell me to be there within the hour.                       
       
           



       

So here I am. Sitting in the office of Doctor Simone Randall. Her office  is cheery and bright. Her coal-black hair is pulled back with those old  metal clips on each side like my grandmother used to use. Her eyes are  kind and sympathetic. She's not showing me pity, just warmth and  understanding, as if she knows exactly what I've been through. This is  the first time I feel a sliver of hope.

"We both know what's brought you here today, Jade. Anything you tell me  stays between the two of us. It's strictly confidential. My report back  to your superior officer will only state whether I feel you need more  time or whether you're ready to perform your job duties," she says  honestly.

"Thank you," I tell her.

"I haven't had the chance to look over much of this. To be quite honest,  I wasn't expecting to hear from you for a few days. However, my job is  to help you and listen to you. You tell me where you want to start. I'll  stop you if I have questions." I'm in love with her already. Don't ask  me how I know this. Maybe it's her non-judgmental demeanor or the  clarity in her tone. I don't know, but when I start to tell her how  difficult it is for me to handle the fact that I shot a young boy, her  words back to me make sense. It's something I knew all along, but  hearing it from a person who wasn't out there, or from someone who  thinks they know what's best for me, puts a whole new perspective on my  troubling mind.

"I think it's good for you that you have some time off and stay away  from the base where it's going to remind you of the trauma you've  endured. However, I would like to recommend you not isolate yourself  from everyone. Nightmares are going to come and go, Jade, and with those  nightmares comes the difficulty of sleeping." Then she surprises me  with her next request. My brain desperately tries to understand why she  thinks this would help me.

"One thing I did see in your file is that you lost a brother. Would you  like to talk about that at all?" I'm not sure if I do. That's one of the  reasons why I need to make peace with my parents. Why I need to feel  normal before I make the drive across town to see them. My older brother  Jason committed suicide almost two years ago after his second tour in  Iraq. He hid his symptoms of PTSD from us all. The police found him two  days later, after he took his life by jumping off a bridge. It destroyed  my parents; a part of all of us died that day with Jason.

By the time I've left her office with another appointment for the day  after tomorrow and a mild anti-anxiety prescription, I know exactly the  first place I need to go to begin this journey of healing.





~~~~


"I'm here, Jason." I am kneeling on the ground in front of my brother's  grave. There's just enough light left on the horizon for me to see his  name engraved and the words ‘Forever in our Hearts' below his name.

"I'm sorry it's been so long. I don't have an excuse, and I won't make  one up. I miss you." I trace my fingers over his name. The tears fall  freely and I let them.

"I'm struggling, Jason. I need you to give me strength to get through  this. You already know what happened, what I did. There's no need for me  to tell you. I love my job and what it stands for. I would kill that  young boy all over again to save my team. It's just …  I can't get the  image of how young he was out of my head. It's haunting my soul. It's  tragic and I'm scared." My forehead goes to the cold stone and I cry.  I'm so tired, weak, and drained.

I'm not sure how long I stay there with my head up against his headstone  with fond memories imploring my mind. It's dark on a warm night with a  million stars in the sky by the time I gather myself and thank my  brother for listening. It's a figment of my imagination upon walking  away when I hear his speech reaffirm what I already know.

"You'll get there, Jade. The hardest part about war is the battle we  have within ourselves. We struggle with it daily. For some it may never  go away, but for you it will. You have to believe it, believe in  yourself, believe in your country, and don't shut people out."

I turn my phone on the minute I get into my car, checking my messages  before I leave to go see my parents. I'm surprised when there is one  from Harris, and one from my roommate, and none from Kaleb. A part of me  is hurt that he never called or texted to check up on me, while the  other part is somewhat relieved. Maybe he's going to give me the space I  asked for and let me figure this out on my own.

I check the voicemail from Mallory first. "I'm going to kick your ass.  How dare you come home and not call me first? You better call me right  now, Jade Elliott, or I will snap your tiny ass in two. Call me now!" I  laugh at her obnoxious behavior. The bitch knows how this shit works.  Hell, her father is a retired officer from the Navy. I listen to Harris'  message through my Bluetooth as I pull out of the cemetery, eager to  see my parents.                       
       
           



       

"Hey. I'm heading to my ranch in Alabama for the weekend. Thought maybe a  change of scenery might do you good. Call me if you'd like to go."  That's it. Short and to the point. No flirtation in his tone at all. I  know Harris all too well. My intuition about him knowing there is  something going on between Kaleb and I is spot on. Kaleb told him. I  know he did, and I should wring his thick, muscular, corded neck for  opening his big mouth, but instead I feel relieved. I'm not in the mood  for Harris and his sexual advances. What I am in the mood for is a nice  weekend away. Riding horses, which I've never done before in my life.