Ice (Elite Forces #1)(24)

       
           



       
"I'm sorry, dad, mom." I shift my head to look at her. "I should've called. I just...."

"We're sorry too, honey. We're all to blame for the past few years, and I  won't have you taking all the blame. You need to know that your dad and  I are very proud of you." Her words cause more tears to fall, and I  just watch as she stands to say what she's obviously been thinking about  saying as we sat there without a word between us all. She walks closer  to me and stands face-to-face as she continues softly.

"Look at what you've done with your life. You set out as a child to  fulfill a dream, and you have succeeded. How can any two parents who  love their daughter as much as we do not be proud of that?" My mom looks  me in the eyes and smiles. Her smile is genuine and kind. It's the  greatest thing I've seen in a long time, and her words mean more than  she'll ever know.

"It's true. Hell, I brag about you all the time to the guys at the  restaurant. Every morning over coffee and those chocolate-covered glazed  donuts you used to love. None of the bastards have a thing on my ass.  My daughter's in The Special Forces."

"You've followed my career," I say, stunned as I watch my father stand as well.

"Of course we have. Shit, Jade. We love you so much. I don't want us to  dwell on the past. Not with the future that lies ahead of us, and not  with these Marlins kicking some ass today." I run my finger down the  condensation on the glass bottle of my beer, hiding the laugh or the  rest of the tears that want to burst out of me.

My mom wraps her arms around me and pulls me back toward the couch. We  sit and enjoy the game for a few more minutes before she asks who needs  another beer. I follow her to the kitchen, while my father stays behind.  "Maybe we can spend a day together soon, just the two of us women."  She's smiling the largest smile I can imagine from her. She looks truly  at peace and happy right now, and I wonder how she hides it so well. She  has to hurt still, because I do.

"I'd like that, mom." I sit on the bar stool and watch as she wipes down  every already clean counter and wrings out the rag in the sink.

"We could go shopping. Do you know how long it's been since I've bought  clothes for myself?" I can only imagine. She never was one to fuss over  herself. She raised all of us kids, making sure we had what we needed  before she even thought of spending a dime on herself. Of course, my  father came before her as well.

"Only if you let me treat you."

"Nonsense, Jade. Honestly, I just want to know that you're ok. You don't  know how many times I've practiced what I'd say to you if I ever had  the chance."

"Mom. I know." She has to know I've thought the same way. The way our  last conversation ended had me dreading this, and I'm not too sure the  years away weren't exactly what we all needed. Jason never would've  suggested it, but he didn't really have that choice.

"I went to his grave before I stopped here." She stops moving and stands with her back to me.

"I go every single day."

"I figured you did." She starts to retrace her pattern on the counters,  it's how she deals with pain; she cleans and stays distracted as if  it'll all go away if she never stops.

"Just tell me you won't follow in his footsteps all the way to the end,  Jade. I just can't take it again." Her words choke me up, and I struggle  to get my own past the huge lump in my throat.

"Mom, I won't. I promise." My words are a promise I fully plan to keep,  but we both know the casualties of this career aren't always during a  war on enemy territory. Sometimes the worst war is the one we have in  our heads after we come back home. My brother battled with a decision he  made for about six months before he chose to end the fight.

"Please just give me this, Jade, tell me you'll come to me before it  gets that bad. Tell me you'll let me help you if you ever think like  that. I can't bury a second child. It's your job to bury me." I know  where she's coming from. I watch her through my own tears again and nod  my head as soon as she finally looks up at me through her own. She sees  my pain. I know she does, and the strength behind her hug when she wraps  me up again in her arms tells me just that.

"Now that's enough crying. This is supposed to be a happy time. We  should go to dinner or something. Let me call your brothers and see if  they can make it in tonight."

"Mom, can we just stay in? You can tell them tomorrow I'm back and plan  something next week. I just really want to spend time with you and dad  right now." She smiles and moves to the refrigerator. She begins to talk  as she pulls things out of the freezer for dinner.                       
       
           



       

"How does steak sound?"

"Perfect. I think I'm going to take a long, hot shower if you don't mind."

"Of course, Jade. You know where your room is." I slide off the bar  stool and move down the hall, closing my eyes tightly as I pass Jason's  room, swallowing the memories flooding my head as I do. It's strange to  feel the strong pull to his room when I pass, but I know I'm not ready  for that.

I let the hot water burn my skin and make the hurt inside dissipate just  slightly as it does. I wish more than anything that I could talk to  Jason right now about where my head is at. He would understand more than  anyone; he's lived it. He knows what it's like to kill a child; after  all, it consumed him for the last months of his life as he tried to  overcome it and failed.





CHAPTER TWELVE


JADE


Three beers and a few chocolate chip cookies down, and a breakfast date  arranged with my dad before the night ends, give me a good feeling with  both of my parents. A shower that lasted a half hour was exactly what I  needed despite the soreness still in my arm. I have my mom help me wrap  it, and I'm very proud of her for not asking any questions she knows I  won't be able to answer. It's not an obvious bullet graze, but it is  apparent I was hurt out there. I just wish the true ache in my head  would disappear and the heaviness I'm carrying around in my heart would  go away by the time this wound heals.

I'm climbing into my old twin bed, ready to succumb to sleep, when my  text messages go off. Harris is finally getting back with me, and before  I have the chance to reply to his second text, he's calling me.

No ‘Hello Jade, how are you feeling?' Just good ole Harris getting straight to the point.

To be honest¸ I'm thankful he isn't trying to coddle me. Or become all  possessive. I'm even more grateful we didn't cross over that unwritten  line of friendship. We came damn close, too close actually. It may have  ruined the friendship I cherish too much and made things awkward.

"Do you want me to pick you both up on Friday?" he offers, and honestly,  the thought of him dealing with most of the driving sounds nice.  Mallory and I won't be able to cut completely loose, but I'm sure  they'll get along well enough to make the weekend trip.

"Sure. What exactly are your plans for Alabama, Harris?"

"Absolutely fucking nothing. I want to just be free in the damn US of A  for a damn minute without an itinerary or schedule to follow."

"Sounds damn perfect. What time do you plan to head out?"

"I'll head your way that morning, so say …  around three o'clock I'll be by to get you both."

"We'll be packed."

"Hey." The line goes silent as I wait for him to continue.

"Yeah."

"You okay?" His voice is truly sincere, and I can feel his warmth  through the phone. Well, there goes that thought from moments ago. He  means well. I know he does. I'll touch lightly on the subject with him. I  will be okay and his concern warms me. I've been entirely wrapped up in  my career for so long that for once I need to put myself first,  especially now that I'm home where I can deal with this my own way.  Because when you're out there fighting, it's not only you, it's an  entire team. We all depend on each other.

"I'm working on it." He knows it, there's no use hiding it from him.  This man has been my shadow and vice versa for months. When you work  that closely with someone, you get to know what they're thinking and  feeling. Plus, I'm sure my situation in itself warrants his concern.

"Alright. I'll talk to you Friday. Bring your shit kickers, you're going to need them."

"I don't own shit kickers, Harris." I should've known his country ass  would have me doing some insane stuff that will most likely involve us  getting into shit. Literally.

"Go buy some." He hangs up. Fucker. Shit kickers, my ass. I place my  phone back on the nightstand and connect it to my charger before I  switch off the light. Every part of my body is physically and mentally  drained to the point that I don't remember a damn thing after I roll  over onto my side and sleep for eight hours straight for the first time  in at least a month.