The Officer Breaks the Rules (21 page)

“Shut it. I can’t see you, but I can hear you, dipstick. I get that you tried to avoid
her. Hell, I think we all saw how the two of you were doing your best to avoid each
other.”

“I didn’t.” Tim shifted against the desk.

“You had blood relation blinders on,” Dwayne said with a wave of dismissal. To Jeremy,
he continued, “I know you wouldn’t use her for a quick fling. You respect her too
much. Not to mention, Tim would kill you. And after he was done killing you, I’d kick
you. So that’s why I can deduce that when you did eventually get involved with her,
you couldn’t say no. Quick flings are easy to get into, but they’re also easy to walk
away from. This was Madison. And you couldn’t start something easy with her. Because
walking away would suck donkey balls.”

Jeremy grimaced. “Your southern fried colloquialisms are astounding.”

Dwayne grinned. “Thanks. So clearly, you feel more for her than you wanted to admit.
Am I right?”

Jeremy glanced between the screen and Tim, debating his options. Declaring himself
to a computer monitor was not really how he saw this whole thing ending in his mind.
But hey, roll with the punches. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Dwayne looked smug. “So what’s the holdup?”

“The holdup is he’s got to make the choice himself,” Tim chimed in. “So don’t pressure
him. Nobody wants to be with someone who doesn’t want them back.”

“I never said I didn’t want to be with Madison,” Jeremy bit off, then regretted it.
Dwayne suddenly wasn’t the only smug-looking bastard. “I hate you both right now.”

“We’re your favorites and you know it.” Dwayne’s smile only grew.

Jeremy did the only thing he could think of. Deflect. Turning to Tim, he asked, “Does
this not seem a little familiar to you?”

“Hmm?” Tim picked up the pen he’d been playing with before and started clicking it.

“The whole meeting in the office bit, outflanking someone with Skype? International
ass-kicking? We did this a few months ago. With you. About Skye.”

Tim mocked thinking hard. “Oh. Right, right. You did, didn’t you? And, oddly enough…
it worked. Didn’t it?”

Well, he just painted his own ass into a corner. Tim chuckled, knowing that hadn’t
worked out quite like he’d wanted it to.

Dwayne leaned in, the squeaky chair’s metallic whine grating on Jer’s eardrums even
through the speakers. “Get what you need to get in your life together. Don’t leave
this thread hanging. There are important things in life… and then there’s this. Too
important to rank. Don’t blow it.”

Don’t blow it. Always easier said than done. Jeremy nodded silently, but he realized
it really could be that easy. That simple.

“Sorry, D. I hate to do this, but I’ve got stuff to do.”

Far from looking annoyed or offended, Dwayne just grinned and waved. Jeremy took that
as a sign and clicked to end the call.

“Uh, dude. I wasn’t done talking to him,” Tim said.

“You’re done now. Out. I’ve got shit to do.”

“What could be more important than… oh. Oh. Right.” Tim smiled a little as he looked
Jeremy in the eye. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

“Thanks.”

***

Two hours later, Jeremy let himself into his apartment. He’d busted his ass to get
his work done for the day, delegating a few things he normally did himself and deciding
what could be put off until the next day. He wanted to be home for the next part of
his plan. Needed to be home.

Checking the clock, he knew that thanks to the time difference, his father would be
getting home soon. It was a little early, but his nerves were on the edge of frayed
and he needed to shore this up. Now. Taking a chance, he dialed his father’s home
number.

“Hello?”

Fate. It had to be. Maybe Skye was onto something with all her Fate talk. “Hey, Dad.”

“Jeremy. What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” He sank down on the couch and rubbed his forehead between his thumb and finger.
“Why would you say that?”

“You usually call on the weekend. It’s a Thursday.”

“Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Silence.

So his dad’s bullshit meter was up and running. Fine. “Okay then. I called to give
you the news.”

His dad grunted. “Finally signed the damn papers. Took you long enough. So, did your
monitor give you an idea where you’re headed next?”

“No. Dad, you mis—”

“Well, that’ll come soon enough. You’ve been there three years now. I’m sure you don’t
want to leave your buddies, since they got there after you did but—”

“Dad.”

“I’m trying to give you some good advice here, son. Pipe down and take it.”

“
Dad.
”

His father humphed. “What?”

Jeremy breathed in and out. “I didn’t sign the papers.”

A beat of silence passed. Then, “What?”

“I didn’t sign—”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Son, you can’t screw around with your career like this.
I know you’re hitting some sort of roadblock. But the longer you take to simply acknowledge
to your monitor you’re staying in, the less seriously they’re going to take you. Nobody
wants someone who can’t make up their mind. Just sign the damn papers. Deal with whatever
crisis you think you’re going through later. Sign the damn papers.”

“I’m not signing them. I told them I was getting out.”

If he hadn’t heard his father’s breath catch, he would have thought he’d hung up.
The silence, as they say, was deafening.

Cue the cartoon crickets.

“Dad?”

“This isn’t amusing.” His father’s voice was low, menacing. It was the voice Jeremy
always remembered being scared of as a kid. More than the yelling, more than the screaming.
If his father used the low, hushed, almost whispered voice, it was time to hide. “This
is your career. Our legacy. And you’re going to blow it? For what? Tell me what is
so goddamn important that you’re walking away from a damn good career and a reputation
the Phillips men have fought to uphold.”

“I’ve served. I served ten years. Honorably. Three tours in Afghanistan.”
I’ve been a damn good son.
“Why does that mean nothing?”

“It’s not what we do. We retire. We are lifers.”

“So what if I’m not?” The question was met with complete silence. With each passing
second, each moment his father had to make a fresh start with his son and chose not
to, it became easier to say what was on his mind. “I’m not a lifer. I didn’t want
to be a lifer when I joined. And I don’t want to now. The only thing I can think of
that would be worse than staying in for another ten years would be losing the two
things I want more than anything else because I couldn’t get my head out of my ass
long enough to realize I was living another person’s dream, and they didn’t even appreciate
me for it.”

“Don’t speak like that to me. Don’t you dare speak like that to me.” Something slammed
in the background, and Jeremy could easily see his father pounding a fist on a table,
rattling coasters. “I raised you by myself. I did what I could for you. Showed you
how good the Corps could be for a man. What a good life it provided.”

“And I’m grateful. But Dad, how far do you expect that to go? You want me to repay
you for keeping your own son around by doing what you want for the rest of my life?
I’m a man, not a kid anymore. Would you seriously respect someone who couldn’t make
their own decisions and had their father do all the thinking for them?”

“That’s not what this is!” his father roared. Jeremy pulled the phone back a few inches
and waited for the echo to die down.

“That’s exactly what this is. I can’t apologize for it. I’m sad you’re upset about
this, instead of hearing that my career was making me miserable.” God. It was all
clicking into place now. Why hadn’t he been able to do this years ago? Why had he
re-upped three years ago when he had the chance to get out?

Maybe
because
you
wouldn’t have met up with Madison again.

Right. That. Oddly enough, the voice in his head sounded nothing like his, and very
much like Skye’s. There was something to be said for Skye’s Fate theory.

“Misery is temporary. And if you’d…” His father trailed off slowly, but thanks to
his heavy breathing Jeremy knew he was still there. “You said you didn’t want to lose
the two things you want more than anything else.”

Had he?

“What are they?”

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “My writing. And Madison O’Shay.”

“Writing?” His father chuckled. “Writing. Writing… what? Books?”

“Yes,” Jeremy ground out through his teeth.

His father laughed a little harder. “And Madison O’Shay. That’s… that’s the…” He sucked
in a breath around belly-deep laughs. “That’s the Navy nurse. Sister of your friend
Tim. The lifer?”

“That’s correct.”

No longer able to hold back, his dad burst into laughter.

Jeremy gave him two minutes before barking, “You done yet?”

Winding down, a few stray laughs escaping, his father admitted he was.

“Well, thanks. Your support means the world to me.” Every word oozed sarcasm.

“Can’t say I expected this. And I’ll have to tell you, I’m not okay with it.” Back
to his gruff self, not a chuckle in sight, he went on. “This isn’t the plan we laid
out. You don’t toss away plans because of a distraction.”

“They’re not distractions. They’re what I want. And they’re what I’m going to have.”
If
Madison
is
still
willing
to
have
me.
“If you’ve got a problem with that, then…” Then what?

“Then what?” his father asked, almost as a threat.

“Then that’s all I have to say, I guess. I hope eventually you’ll change your mind.
Call me when you do.”

He hung up amidst his father’s protests. But he gave it another moment, waiting to
see if his father called back, before closing the phone completely.

So there it was. The official final straw. Jeremy walked over to his desk calendar
and flipped a few months ahead. Taking into account the six weeks it would take before
paperwork and other bureaucratic crap would be filed, and then adding on his terminal
leave, he had a good four months left before he was actually out from under the military’s
wing. In theory, anyway. He’d get a more exact date later.

Plenty of time to follow up on the leads he received constantly from corporate recruiters
to contract jobs to fellow Marines who’d gotten out recently and loved their jobs.

He jiggled the mouse a little and smiled when the screen of his computer came to life.
Writing was his passion. And until he could make it a living, he’d find another job.
No problem. But he’d always write. And hopefully it would start paying off soon.

But in the meantime, he had a girl to win.

“You want a water?” Matthew called from his kitchen.

Madison dropped down on one end of his couch. “Sure.” Her voice cracked a little,
and she scowled into the empty room. She had to shake this. Clenching and unclenching
her fists, she looked around the room for a distraction. And found herself realizing
that even when in another man’s apartment, she couldn’t stop thinking of Jeremy.

Matthew’s home was the polar opposite of Jeremy’s place. Open, airy, decorated perfectly
with little personal touches here and there. A painting, a picture frame, a bowl full
of interesting pebbles. Of course, Madison knew her friend hadn’t done any of it himself.
An old boyfriend chose the décor and did the hard work. Matthew just paid for the
furniture and was glad to have the decision out of his hand.

Matthew walked back to the couch in his apartment and sank down at the other end,
completely opposite from Madison. She smiled and shook her head.

“You don’t have to give me space. I’m not mad at you.”

“I know. I just wanted some room so I could stretch out my legs.” With that, he plopped
his feet down by her butt on the cushion. “There. That’s better. Now. Tell Matthew
all your problems.” He handed her a bottle of water.

Madison cracked the top open and took a drink, hoping the water would wash down the
tears that crawled up her throat every time she thought about it. “That could take
weeks. We don’t have that kind of time.”

“Right, this is true. But we have until our shift in a few hours.” Matthew reached
over and grabbed the leg of her jeans and hauled her around until she faced him, her
own feet draped over his thighs, her back pressed against the arm of the couch. “And
since we can’t guarantee a good time to talk in the ER, let’s go ahead and talk now.”

Madison shuddered at the reminder of being back at the ER again. “Don’t remind me.
It’ll be bad enough when we get there.” She thought for a moment, tapping the bottle
cap against her chin. “I think I might see about working my way in to surgery. I think
that’s where I belong.”

“Really? Not full-time OB?” Matthew reached and snatched the bottle from her to take
a sip of his own. “Color me shocked.” He raised a brow. “And won’t that be like asking
for more deployments?”

“More? I haven’t even gone once yet. Not that I’m dying to,” she added when his brow
only raised further. “My number just hasn’t been called, as they say. But if that’s
the result, well, so be it. If I’m happy with my job, then that’s what matters. I
didn’t exactly join the military under false pretenses, thinking it would be a cakewalk.
I figured I’d go over to play in the sandbox eventually.”

“And are you?”

“Am I what?” She gave up on her water and grabbed a magazine off his coffee table,
mostly to have something to occupy her twitchy hands.

“Happy.”

“Hmm. That’s a hard one. I like my job. No, love. I love my job. I have my family,
my friends. A new place to myself—minus Veronica, of course, but I chose her, so clearly
I wanted her—and so what’s left?” She glanced down at the magazine and saw the picture
of some new Hollywood couple staring back at her with glowing smiles and eyes full
of love, as if nothing could stand between them and eternal devotion. She mentally
scoffed at them.
Don’t you have a lot to learn?
She opened to the table of contents, where she wouldn’t have to look at them.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a mysterious, brooding Marine who looks at you like you’re
his everything and you have the power to devastate him with one careless word?”

Madison’s hand froze mid-page turn, and she narrowed her eyes. “Drama much? Stop DVRing
General
Hospital
. It’s not good for your psyche.”

“Fine. But simply using his name is so much less of a punch. Jeremy. What’s left is
Jeremy.”

“Jeremy’s a friend.” She held up the magazine and pointed. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s a bandage dress.”

“A what?” She glanced again at the glazed-eyed starlet in the dress so tight it made
her look fat. Which was a little odd, since she probably weighed ninety-two pounds
soaking wet.

He sighed in exasperation. “A dress that wraps around like a bandage. It’s super-tight,
and as you can tell, it’s not always flattering, depending on the cut. Now stop stalling.”
He ripped the magazine from her hand and tossed it over his shoulder.

“It’s nothing.” She raised her hands over her head and stretched her back. “We agreed
it wasn’t going to last. I knew that going in. So I don’t exactly have room to complain.”

“I must say, that’s very grown-up.” He set the bottle on the coffee table. “Much more
mature than I could ever be.”

“That’s because you have the maturity of a fifth-grader,” she said wisely.

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

Matthew laughed. “And I’m the only fifth-grader here?”

Despite her poor mood, Madison smiled. “I’m rubber and you’re glue.”

“Quite frankly, I’m glad you’re over the whole thing. Since that’s the case, I have
something else to talk to you about.”

“Hmm?”

“There’s this guy…”

She smiled and patted his leg. “Tell Madison all about him,” she said, playing on
his earlier words.

Matthew threw a pillow at her. “Not for me. For you.”

“Me?” She was stunned. And not really in a good way.

“Sure. He’s a friend from high school and now conveniently lives pretty close by.
He’s cute—for which you know I’m actually a reliable source on that—was always a good
guy in high school. Athletic, but not a meathead. Actually, he was a golfer, if I
remember correctly…”

“Matthew.” She couldn’t breathe very well.

“Shh, you’ll get your turn in a minute. Anyway, he does something with computers right
now. Goes from company to company helping them shore up against hackers and things
like that. Security stuff. Pretty intense, but seems like it’s a good, solid job.”

“Matthew,” she tried again, a bit louder. Why did her stomach hurt all of a sudden?
And that ringing in her ears… Was she developing tinnitus?

“Oh!” Matthew clapped his hands and rubbed them together, an unholy gleam in his eyes.
“Let’s go get my laptop and Facebook stalk him. I’m friends with the guy. Total access
to his pictures and profile.”

“No.” Madison pressed a hand to her stomach. Definitely feeling ill.

“You’re right. Why move off the couch when we’re comfortable right where we are?”
He dug in his jeans pocket to pull out his phone. “I’ve got the Facebook app. I’ll
do it here. You just wait, give me a minute and I’ll—Ow!” He jerked one leg back,
rubbing along his shin. “What the hell?”

She sighed. “If you’d let me get a word in edgewise then I wouldn’t have to pinch
you.”

“That wasn’t a pinch. You pulled leg hair.” He grimaced and rubbed harder. “Exactly
why do women get waxed again?”

“For reasons you’ll never know.” Madison sat back. “I’m not interested in Boy Wonder
you have stashed in your friend list.”

“Any reason why not?”

She bit her lip. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Prove it.”

“And back to fifth grade we go.” He grabbed the water bottle and took another sip
before passing it to her. “Look, if the guy means that much to you, then fight.”

“I tried.”

“Fight harder. Break out the big guns. Cry if you need to.”

“Tears are the big guns?” she asked skeptically.

“Yeah, sure. Girls are great criers. Beg. Leave your pride at the door and weep at
his feet. Show him the pain.”

Madison pointed the capped bottle at him. “Okay, one? Completely offensive that just
because I’m a girl, you think I can cry on command.”

“Can’t you?”

“Yes. Comes standard issue with every pair of ovaries. Not the point.”

Matthew smirked.

“Two? I’m not leaving my pride behind. If I wanted to do that, I’d quit the military
myself. And I’m not about to give it up for a man.” Even the man she loved. “So, we’re
back to square one.”

Matthew shrugged. “Was worth a shot. So is there a plan B?”

Madison nodded. “Of course there’s a plan B. There’s always a plan B. Plan B is to
stick to my guns. Keep my chin up and hope eventually…” Suddenly, as if a dam broke
unexpectedly, her lip quivered and she pulled her legs up tightly against her chest.
Through a shuddery breath, she finished, “And hope eventually it stops hurting so
much.”

“Oh, baby. Come here.” Matthew sat up straight and pulled her across his lap, legs
draped over his thighs, her head on his shoulder. Long arms went around her, and for
a moment, while her tears soaked the cotton of his T-shirt, she could believe that
this was all she needed. Friendship. Platonic love and commitment.

As she sniffled, she said, “We should just move in together and spend the rest of
our lives with each other. Like Will and Grace, but without that awkward part where
they tried to have a baby together.”

Matthew smoothed a hand down her hair, briskly rubbing over her upper arm. “That’s
very thoughtful of you, sweetie, but I’ve got a man on the hook and I’m close to reeling
him in. That might make for very uncomfortable cuddle sessions.”

Damn. That didn’t work out either. Would none of the men in her life cooperate? “Guess
I’ll just have to toughen up. I’m in the military, after all.”

“Oh please. You don’t have to be tough to be in the military. They let me in, after
all.”

“No, they didn’t,” she said with a reluctant smile. “You’re a civilian nurse.”

“Hmm. I guess I have to say they have excellent taste then.”

She laughed, partly because it was funny and partly because he wanted her to. “You
always manage to make me feel better. Thanks, Will.”

“You’re welcome, Grace.”

A few quiet moments passed by.

“So, are you going to go out and buy a red curly wig now? Ouch! Stop doing that! I
can’t have bald patches on my legs. Tony is going to think I’m weird!”

Madison smiled into his shirt. Men. Such babies.

***

Once
more.

No.

It
won’t hurt anything.

Absolutely
not.

But
maybe
if
I
just…

Veronica sighed, hating the feeling of indecision pressing against her chest. Her
finger hovered over the mouse like a trigger, hesitant to pull back. The past ten
minutes had been a continuous argument with herself over whether she should use Skype
to call Dwayne.

On the one hand, she’d done it once before, and he seemed to appreciate the gesture.
He’d been nice, and he’d needed the support. Not to mention, she’d enjoyed herself
as well.

On the other hand, she had nothing to tell him. Nothing to share. No messages from
friends to pass on. No true excuse for making the call.

But she still wanted to. Like an addict, she’d become used to their chats, infrequent
though they were. And for some reason, she simply felt the overwhelming desire to
call him again. On purpose. Once more, like she had before.

It was so forward of her. One time could be excused as a silly lark. Or an accident.
But twice was intentional. And not at all her style. If she even had style…

Huh.

If she left her previous life behind because she didn’t care for how things were going,
and this was the opposite of what the former Veronica would have done… didn’t that
mean it was the perfect thing for the new Veronica to do?

She shook her head. That barely made sense even in her own mind. Time for action,
no more thinking.

Her nerves tingled with some strange, hypersensitive mixture of excitement and anticipation.
Or maybe they were responding to her sweating palms out of sheer terror. Just like
she’d felt the first time she dialed him. But he’d appreciated it, that much he’d
said. He wanted to hear from friends. It helped. He swore it did.

Before she could click, her cell phone rang. She jumped, falling sideways out of the
chair and landing on her shoulder with a jarring thump.

“Ow.” That hurt. Her pride as much as her body. She gave herself a moment to make
sure she wasn’t truly injured, then moved slowly to a kneeling position so she could
grab her phone from the top of the computer tower. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. I wanted to—are you okay?” Madison’s voice shifted instantly from casual
friend calling to intense nurse diagnosing.

“I’m fine. Just made a fool out of myself falling from my chair when the phone startled
me.” Not normally something she would share. But with Madison, she always felt so
safe being open and honest. With most things, anyway.

Madison hissed in a breath through her teeth. “Ouch. You okay? Everything moving the
way it should?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you. You were saying before?”

“Ah, sure. Just warning you that I wouldn’t be home like normal, so don’t worry. I’ve
got errands and things to run. Since I’m usually walking in and we cross paths at
breakfast, I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I appreciate the consideration. Thanks. Good luck with your errands.”

Veronica wasn’t fooled. As she hung up the phone and climbed back into the chair,
she said a quick prayer for Madison’s heart. Her poor roommate was nearly sick with
sadness, though she tried her best to hide it by being unbelievably busy. Never sitting
still for more than a minute, as if she was afraid the silence and loneliness would
cause her to break.

On one level, Veronica could relate to wanting to stay busy so thoughts wouldn’t overtake
you. On another, she’d never been in love before. That was a fate she had yet to run
into.

And oddly, that last thought seemed to bring her full circle, to the call she was
about to—or not about to—place.

He said he needed friends. Calling to say hello when you have a moment is simply a
kind gesture. He won’t think anything more of it. She would simply tell him she was
bored—or maybe desperate for a distraction from homework—and thought to say hello.
That sounded casual enough, didn’t it? And as long as her face didn’t flame red like
it normally did when she was lying through her teeth, then she could get away with
it.