The Officer Breaks the Rules (19 page)

“Broken hand,” she murmured to herself. “Dislocated elbow. Bloody nose.”

Jeremy stood slowly, carefully working his jaw back and forth. “You get one. And I
deserved it. But next time I punch back.”

“Broken jaw, black eye, cracked ribs…”

“Oh, now you’re a big tough guy. What, so tough you couldn’t tell me to my face you
were sleeping with my little sister?”

“Younger,” Jeremy said quietly.

“What?”

“Eyebrow gash, split lip, chipped teeth…”

“Madison,” Jeremy said softly. “She’s younger. Not little. In case you blinked and
missed it, your sister’s twenty-six years old. She knows her own fucking mind. God
knows I’ve tried to change it for her more than once,” he muttered at the end.

“Oh, a concussion!” Madison was almost relieved at the thought. At least that would
end the damn thing, if one of them was unconscious.

“Knock it off, squirt!” Tim yelled at her.

“Don’t yell at her,” Jeremy shot back through clenched teeth. Though whether it was
anger or pain from the punch that had him clenching, she wasn’t sure.

Tim ignored that. “There I was, talking about some guy I thought my sister was sneaking
around with, venting to my supposed best friend, looking for an outsider’s perspective.
Meanwhile, you’re the fucking guy. And you’re not outside at all. You’re right in
the thick of things. Damn, dude.”

“Need I remind you, when you brought all that shit up, you were holding a loaded weapon?
I didn’t feel it was the best time to break out the heart-to-heart confessions.”

“I’m perfectly capable of being rational,” her brother said through clenched teeth
of his own. Which Madison knew had to be from anger, since
he
hadn’t been punched in the jaw. Yet.

“I beg your pardon?” Madison asked from her perch on the couch. “What about this scenario
screams rational to you?”

“You. Be quiet.” Tim whirled to face her and shot her a look that likely had his junior
Marines pissing in their pants. To her? That face stopped intimidating her when she
was seven.

“Right. Forgot my lines. I’ll just sit here and swoon at the first sight of blood.
Oh
fiddle
dee
dee
.” Madison punctuated the fake Southern accent with a one-fingered salute special
for her brother.

Despite his best efforts, Jeremy’s face split into a wide grin, then winced at the
pain. “She’s a total smartass, isn’t she?”

“Always has been,” her brother agreed. He glanced sideways at Jeremy. “You seriously
put up with her? Voluntarily?”

“I’m still here,” Madison sang out.

“Quiet,” they both barked back in unison.

She opened her mouth on autopilot, ready to sass them right back. She could give as
well as receive. But then she snapped it shut again. If they were busy talking trash
about her, then they weren’t killing each other. While not her favorite option in
the world, it did save them all a trip to the ER. She chose the path of least resistance
and let them bond over mocking insults.

Jeremy walked to the fridge, reached in the freezer, and pulled out a frozen bag of
veggies—one of those deals you could microwave right in the bag—and gingerly placed
it over the bottom of his jaw.

Tim smirked. “Pussy.”

“I’d rather avoid the swelling, to be honest. It didn’t hurt. You punch like a girl.”

“That’s not what your ass said when it hit the floor.”

Lord, but men had the most bizarre way of showing affection. Madison realized they
weren’t going to kill each other after all and took the opportunity to slip past Tim’s
back and into the bedroom area. This would be so much easier to face if she were properly
dressed, including underwear.

“I saw that, squirt.”

She froze, one hand gripping her shirt from the floor. Shit.

“We’re not done.”

“Bite me.” She did some fancy maneuvering to pull her bra on under the oversized man’s
shirt, then her own shirt replaced Jeremy’s. A quick change for her bottoms and she
was at least decently attired for the inevitable awkward moment.

Peeking out, she couldn’t see either Tim or Jeremy. Nor could she hear them. She tiptoed
around the corner and gasped in surprise when she saw them sitting on the couch together,
both gripping bottles of beer, staring at the blank flat-screen.

They looked zoned out, completely unaware of her presence anymore. Or even each other.

Men. Were. So. Bizarre.

“Should you really be drinking? It’s like eleven in the morning.”

Silence.

“Is everyone all right in here? Are my stellar skills as a nurse required?”

The joke didn’t crack the tense air.

She took a step forward, intent on checking Jeremy’s jaw. Not that she didn’t think
he could handle his own, but a possible broken jaw wasn’t something to mess around
with. Reaching out, her hand was almost to his chin when he grabbed her wrist.

“Go home, Madison.”

“Just let me look at—”

“Go. Home.” When she raised a brow at the condescending tone, he added a terse, “Please.”

Looking between Jeremy and Tim, she shook her head and stepped back. “You know, men
are completely illogical. Which is the nicest word I can come up with for what you
two are acting like right now.” When neither responded to her insult, she tossed her
hands in the air. “Fine. I know when I’m not wanted.”

“That’s not it,” Jeremy said quietly, enough to soften the blow of being removed from
the whole situation like a child being kicked out of the room when Mommy and Daddy
were arguing.

She huffed. “I’m going, I’m going.” Slipping on her shoes, she grabbed her bag and
slung it over her shoulder. With a quick glance to Tim, she ordered, “Do not kill
him. I don’t have that much money for bail, and Mom will just murder you afterward
anyway.” Then she walked out and shut the door behind her, not at all sure she should
have left.

***

The clock over his desk ticked the time, each second louder than the last. One minute
passed in silence. Then two. Seven minutes later, neither man had spoken and Jeremy
started to wonder if he could completely escape the entire scenario without saying
a word.

“She’s my sister.”

Damn. There went that idea. He took a swig of beer. “Yeah. I know.”

“I’ve always protected her. Or, okay.” Tim stopped to smile ruefully. “When I wasn’t
the one giving her shit like a big brother should, I was protecting her.”

It sounded so easy, so simple, the love and affection of one sibling to another. Jeremy
had nothing to base that on, so he just nodded.

“It’s hard going from big brother, ultimate protector, and defender of her playground
experience to…” He shrugged. “I don’t even know. Just a friend, I guess.”

“Still her brother,” Jeremy said, taking another sip. The drink was growing warmer
by the minute between his hands. The liquid rolled and sloshed in his empty stomach,
making him regret the choice of beer over water. But his hands needed something to
do. “She still wants you to be her brother. She loves you like crazy.”

“I just need to dial back. Right. I’m starting to figure that out,” Tim said, self-deprecation
painting every word. He sighed. “I just never want her to feel hurt. It’s the same
way I feel with Skye. Some asshole hurts my wife? I’d break him.”

“Rightly so.”

“Are you going to be that asshole with Madison? The guy who hurts her?” Tim asked.
The
please
don’t be
was silent. But understood.

Jeremy thought long and hard about it. It would be easy to say no. That he’d warned
her up front it was nothing, that the simple affair had zero strings attached. That
he tried to avoid getting involved to begin with. That it was Madison who approached
him, not the other way around. But was that all the truth? Could he not have tried
harder to push her away? Couldn’t he have done more, been more stern with his decision
not to become involved?

Yeah. He could have. So in the end, he couldn’t blame Mad, much as he’d love to not
have any focused on himself. They both did a bang-up job fucking this one up.

Finally, he answered quietly, “I don’t want to be.”

Tim thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “I believe that. Now. How are you
going to fix this?”

“There’s nothing to fix. We’re friends. We knew that walking in, we’ll still know
it walking out. The end.” And what a way to go. Nothing said
this
has
been
fun, but now it’s over
quite like having the woman’s brother knock him on his ass.

“So that’s it? You were just in it for the easy goods?”

He snorted. “Please. You know your sister. Is there anything easy about that one?”

Tim tilted his head in acknowledgement, tapping his bottle against Jeremy’s in agreement.
“I’ve got twenty-six years of experience that says no. If there’s a way to complicate
a situation, Madison will find it and excel.”

He let his head fall back, then stared at the popcorn ceiling. “I fucked up.”

“Yup.”

“This is a complete mess.”

“Sure is.”

“I could not have handled this worse.”

“No way.”

“Stop agreeing with me.”

“Okay.” Tim tipped the bottle, took a drink, and made a face, as if just now registering
the taste. He rotated the bottle around, trying to read the label. “This tastes like
piss. What the hell kind of beer is this, anyway?”

“Cheap.” Jeremy grabbed both bottles and walked to the sink to dump them down. “Let’s
head out for a real drink.”

“At what, eleven in the morning? On a Sunday?”

“Hell, why not? Aw, shit,” he said, remembering his delivery. He checked the clock
once more. “I had a sub being delivered… but that was supposed to be here like half
an hour ago.”

“Check your phone. Maybe they called.”

Jeremy slid his phone out of his cargo shorts pocket and realized it was still on
silent. He’d turned the ringer off the night before, not wanting anything to interrupt
his time with Madison. “No voice mail. But a text.”

He read the message and smiled, in spite of himself.

“What?” Tim asked.

“Madison ran into the delivery guy on her way to her car. She signed for it and took
off.” He looked up and grinned at Tim. “Your sister stole my lunch.”

“Okay. So let me get this straight. You’re in the middle of a serious discussion with
Jeremy. You’re wearing his shirt and nothing else—”

“Boxers,” Madison corrected Matthew. “I had on boxers under the shirt.”

“You’re really ruining the dramatic effect I’m trying to build here.” Matthew sighed.
“But it’s not like anyone could see them though. Am I right?” When she nodded, he
went on. “You answer the door, hair still wet from the shower, and it’s your brother.
Whom you’ve been keeping this torrid affair a secret from this entire time. He storms
in, figures out what’s going on, and defends your honor with a sucker punch to lover
boy’s jaw?”

Madison sprawled out on the couch in the break room, arranging her scrub top so it
covered her stomach. “That about sums it up.”

Matthew was silent for a moment. She finally dared to crack one eye open and check.
And found him shaking his head as if in disbelief. “What?”

He sighed morosely. “I always miss the good stuff. Why didn’t Jeremy defend your honor
with a punch to my jaw?” He stood and found his reflection in the metal paper towel
dispenser by the sink, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I might look pretty badass
with a black eye, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.”

“What? It’s like a telenovela! Right there in his living room. All that’s missing
is someone shouting ‘Ay, caramba!’ That’s good gravy. You can’t make this stuff up.”

“I wish I was.” She stared at the pockmarked ceiling tiles. “I’m supposed to be napping,
you know. I took that extra shift to cover for Liz, thanks to her kid being sick.
And you’re distracting me.”

“Oh please. Like you weren’t dying to blab the whole story the minute you walked in.
You all but bounced over to me.”

“I did not bounce.” Maybe just a little.

“Fine, then you pounced. Tigger-style.”

“Does that really get the guys hot? You quoting Winnie the Pooh at them?”

Matthew flipped her off then pulled out his wallet and shuffled through until he found
a dollar to feed into the soda machine, making a selection and pressing the button.
After the plastic bottle rattled to the bottom, he cracked the top and took a sip.
“Ah, better. Now, where was I? Oh. Right. So where does this leave you and lover boy?”

“For the seven hundred and forty-ninth time, stop calling him that. And I don’t know.
He’s so intent on fulfilling his dad’s bizarre legacy dream that he’s not even remotely
close to giving us a shot.”

Matthew used one long-fingered hand to spin the cap on the scarred tabletop in the
break room. “You can understand the legacy thing though, right? I mean, you’re what,
O’Shay generation number three in the military?”

“Four,” she murmured. “And yes, I do get that. But the thing is… if this wasn’t what
Tim or I wanted, our parents would have been fine with it. There might have been some
good-natured teasing, but at the end of the day if we were happy, that’s what would
have mattered most. It just so happened that both of our dreams coincided with our
family’s tradition of serving.”

“Can you say the same for Jeremy’s parents?”

“Parent. Just his father, from what I understand. I guess his mom was just never in
the picture. He’s never talked about her. And I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “But
he’s an adult. His dad lives on the other side of the country. He’s been basically
on his own since he left for college.”

Matthew sighed. “Sometimes even independent adults struggle with how to break news
of their lives to their parents. Remember when I said it took me three years to get
up the nerve to come out to my parents?”

Madison gave him a side look. “Totally different.”

“How?”

Good question.

Matthew took her silence as an invitation to continue. “My parents love me. My orientation
was never brought up before. I had no reason to think they’d disown me. Not to mention,
I’m an adult, completely independent from them both financially and emotionally, and
they live three states away, thank the good Lord.”

Madison snorted.

“Well, hey. I love my folks. But we all do better with a little distance. There was
nothing standing in my way from telling them the truth and letting the chips fall
where they may. But I held back.”

“Because it was scary,” she guessed.

“She gets it in one.” Matthew rolled the soda between his palms, little droplets of
condensation flying from the bottle to the cheap laminate tabletop. “You never really
know how a parent will react. And deep down inside, I think there will always be this
little voice that encourages us to please our parents, no matter how old we are. You
and I have it lucky. Our parents are pleased if we’re happy, which makes being selfish
and just doing whatever we want that much easier.”

She smiled, mostly because she knew he wanted her to. But her brain was working a
hundred miles a minute.

“I don’t know the relationship he has with his dad. It sounds like you might not really
know, either. Maybe that’s something to investigate.” He stood, capped the soda, and
set it down on the floor by the couch where she could reach it. Leaning down, he brushed
a kiss over her forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll tell the desk nurse to wake you in
thirty.”

“Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you too, Mad.”

***

Jeremy opened his work email early Monday morning, glad to be back in the swing of
things. In his office, nobody could bother him about Madison, or writing, or his future.
Nobody would tell him to make hard decisions… or at least not personal ones. And he
could simply breathe and do his job without feeling the pressure breathing down his
neck.

He quickly skimmed through two reports, one schedule update, and then hovered his
mouse over an email from his father. The same father he hadn’t called last week, like
normal.

Time
to
bite
the
bullet. There goes my peaceful morning.

He clicked the email header, titled simply “My Son,” and read quickly, hoping to treat
it like ripping off a bandage.

Ten minutes later, he was on his third read-through when a knock came at the door.
He held up a finger and finished the paragraph. Though why he couldn’t stop going
through the words time and time again, he wasn’t sure. They weren’t changing. Finally,
he tore his eyes away to see Tim lounging in his doorway. “’Sup?”

Tim gave him an assessing once-over. “Little bruised, but not bad.”

“Probably because you only grazed me. Your aim’s off.” Jeremy pushed back from the
desk a little ways so he could prop his knee against the edge, leaning back in his
chair. “That all you came for?”

“I promised Madison I’d make sure you weren’t officially broken,” he admitted before
sitting down. “For some reason, she was worried I’d damaged your pretty face.”

And two for two. Both subjects he would rather have avoided—Madison and his father—in
a ten-minute span. Lucky day. “I’m fine.” He worked his jaw a little, as if to prove
to himself how fine he was. With a wince, he rubbed at the soreness below his ear.
“Okay, a little tender. So I won’t eat steak tonight. I’m good to go.”

“Glad. You could use a refresher course in hand-to-hand combat, dude. I’m pretty sure
I telegraphed that punch and you didn’t even try to deflect or dodge.”

“No. I didn’t.” He said it simply, looking his best friend in the eye. A moment later,
Tim nodded.

“So that’s the way of it. Figures.”

“All you’re doing is playing nursemaid then?”

Tim shrugged. “Blackwater needed to do some work in the system and his computer locked
up so he’s using mine. I made myself scarce. Not like I can do much without the system
myself anyway right now.”

Jeremy shuddered. “When’s he outta here?”

“Few months. Should get word of the new CO sometime soon.” Tim clapped hands over
his knees and stood. “Guess I’ll go wander around and pretend like I’m busy.”

“Take some guys out for a combat lesson,” Jeremy suggested. “Your right hook could
use some work.”

Tim flipped him off as he disappeared down the hallway.

Like a glutton for punishment, Jeremy waited to hear the bootsteps disappear and then
opened his email back up to scan his father’s message once more.

Though receiving an email wasn’t at all shocking—his dad had a very firm grip on modern
technology—it wasn’t often that he used it to get in touch with his son. Seeing his
father’s words in print were almost more harsh than hearing them out loud.

Key phrases like “disappointed” and “concerned for you” jumped out at him. “Not what
I expected from you,” stung much more in black and white than he would have thought.
Though the gem was “Thought you were my son,” was the doozy of the day.

“Jesus, Dad,” he murmured as he stared at the screen. “Twist the knife a little harder,
why doncha?”

“What was that, Marine?”

The CO’s unexpected voice had him jumping off the seat faster than a scalded cat.
“Sir. Sorry, just… thinking. Out loud. To myself, I mean.” He rubbed the back of his
neck and wondered how many more times he would get to feel like a jackass today.

Quality over quantity.

“Hmm.” Blackwater stared at the desk again, and Jeremy once more had that feeling
that he wanted to gather everything up and hide it away from the man’s sight. “Did
you bring the re-up papers with you?”

Shit. “No, sir. I’m sorry, they’re at home.”

“Signed?” he asked, brow raised.

“No, sir. Not yet.”

Blackwater shook his head. “It’s not complicated. You sign your name twenty times
a day on different forms. This is what you want. So simply sign them and bring them
back. I’m not sure why I let you take them with you to begin with.”

Because Jeremy had timed it perfectly to catch him when he knew they’d be interrupted.
“Yes, sir. Of course. I apologize.”

Blackwater nodded. “Well, good. Son, the Marine Corps needs men like you. Men I’ve
trained to do their job to the utmost of their ability.” As if bored with the conversation,
he simply turned on his heel and left without a good-bye.

Men he trained.
Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.
Blackwater was a desk jockey, nothing more. He’d contributed less than lint to the
entire battalion the entire time they’d been there. Jeremy could only hope the next
man—or woman—they brought in would be more effective. More of a leader. More of someone
they would respect enough to follow behind.

That man certainly wasn’t Blackwater. Not that Jeremy was about to say that to anyone’s
face. Hell no. He might not enjoy his time in the Corps as much as the average Marine.
But he still knew self-preservation when it bit him on the ass, and talking back to
a superior officer—even an asshole one—was sort of frowned upon.

Jeremy sat once more, debating how to answer the email to his father. It’d been sent
over the weekend, so at least two days ago. But he didn’t have access to his email
outside of work. Which his father knew. Odd that he didn’t send it to his personal
email, which he would have seen almost immediately.

Or was it fate? That big F-word that Skye always used. If he’d seen this email Saturday
morning, would he still have been with Madison over the weekend?

And more importantly, did he deserve the email that was sent to him? Was he seriously
a disappointment because he was taking his time to make life decisions? Because he
wasn’t sure what he wanted?

That much was a lie, anyway. He knew what he wanted… to write. But it was impractical.
So he did what he should. His duty to his father. The man who stuck by him when he
had every reason in the world to take off and leave him behind.

To make his father proud. Fuck. He scrubbed a hand over his face. What was he, seven?

None of it mattered anyway. He had the papers at home; all he had to do was sign them
and he was done with it.

***

Madison approached Jeremy’s apartment with a sense of dread. But she had to at least
make sure he was okay, despite Tim’s text that his jaw was fine and not at all injured
like she’d worried. And to leave it alone and stop being a nurse.

Pardon her for caring.

Of course, Tim had also ended up sending her a text telling her he loved her and supported
her in whatever she needed. So it was a little difficult to stay truly upset at the
guy. No matter how hard she tried.

Now it was Jeremy’s turn. He needed her support, and if it killed her, she would give
it.

It just might. It really just might.

She knocked and waited. He didn’t come to the door, so she knocked louder. His bike
and truck were both in the parking lot. Of course, he could be taking a nap, but in
that sham of an apartment, there was no way he couldn’t hear—

The door creaked open, startling her. She took a step back and smiled. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He opened the door wide and swept open an arm in greeting. No hint to his mood
at all. Damn the man and his ability to look completely and totally impassive.

She took a step in, then decided otherwise. “I have work in an hour. But I really
don’t wanna be inside any longer. I’ll have twelve hours of indoors soon enough.”

He was silent, then nodded. “I’ll grab my keys. Meet me at the park.”

She didn’t have to ask which park. His. Or, as she’d started to think of it… theirs.
She hopped down the stairs and into her car before he even came back outside. The
extra ten minutes would help steady her. As she drove, she kept shaking out one hand,
then the other. They were sticking to the steering wheel, palms slick with sweat she
couldn’t explain on the weather.

Nerves, moron. They’re nerves.

She pulled in, a little surprised to see one other car parked in the lot. But after
a quick glance, it appeared as though the dad with two kids were using the badly neglected
soccer field to run around, avoiding the playground equipment completely. She surveyed,
then decided to climb up the metal jungle gym a few levels and sit, letting her feet
swing between two of the rails. The night air was getting cooler, and grateful she’d
thought ahead, she zipped up the hoodie she’d tossed on over her scrub top. She heard
Jeremy’s motorcycle pull in and the engine cut off. Heard his boots crunch over the
grass that always seemed to be three weeks overdue for a mowing. Felt the metal of
the playground equipment vibrate under her butt just a little with his heavy steps
as he climbed up to sit with her.