He’d wanted closure and she’d given it to him: in a vivid, high-definition emotional experience he couldn’t stop thinking about. It had been his choice to end it this time. His turn to walk away.
Worst mistake of his life.
This was his wakeup call, he realized. Was he really going to let her go because of fear and pride?
Fuck no, he wasn’t. But what if it was already too late to fix it?
The thought filled him with panic. He walked faster, focused now on getting to his barracks so he could start trying to fix the mess he’d made.
Chapter Fourteen
M9A1 Beretta extended before her, feet apart in a solid Weaver stance, Honor stared down the front sight at the end of the barrel and squeezed the trigger. With her elbows slightly bent and her hands wrapped around the weapon, the smooth recoil of the handgun felt good, as did the satisfying pop, pop, pop through her noise-canceling headphones as she emptied the fourth magazine into the target at the far end of the range.
When it was empty she lowered, then safetied, her weapon before ejecting the empty magazine. With a critical eye she studied the bullet holes on the new paper target. Nice grouping at center mass, but a few stragglers that annoyed her. Gah. Just like in her personal life, she was currently off her game with her shooting skills too.
Firming her lips, she reached her right hand back, palm up, and wiggled her fingers impatiently. “Gimme another.”
“I think you got him. Pretty sure he’s dead at this point,” Devon said in a dry tone from behind her.
Honor made an impatient sound and wiggled her fingers harder. “And he’s about to die again. Just cleaner this time.”
A husky, feminine chuckle reached her as Devon handed her a full mag. “Working out a little bit of frustration today, are you?”
“Oh yeah.” She slammed the mag in, slid off the safety and pulled back the slide. With her right index finger along the side of the barrel and both thumbs married on the left, she locked her hands around the weapon and tried again. This time the grouping was even tighter.
Satisfied with her performance this time, she lowered the weapon and took the empty mag out, then set it on the counter and removed her ear and eye protection. She turned to Dev. “You want a turn?”
“Nah, I’m good.” Dev was leaning against the wall of the cubicle in the public gun range just outside of Tacoma, Washington, arms folded over the front of her Seahawks T-shirt and her legs crossed at the ankle. The former Army helo pilot raised her brows in turn and cocked her head, making her chin-length brown bob swish against her cheeks. “Feel any better?”
“A little, yeah.” She and her guys were headed to the base range tomorrow to re-qualify and it was a point of pride to do at least as well or better than her soldiers. It also earned her a grudging respect from a few men who continued to be less than enthusiastic about having a female superior. So, win-win. “Where to now?”
“Watching you assassinate all those paper targets made me hungry. I’ll take you to lunch.”
Honor gave her a dirty look. “You just wanna grill me about Liam.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Dev grabbed her by the arm and started towing her to the door.
Since she had the rest of the day off and had nothing better to do, Honor allowed Dev to steer her outside and toward her car. “You sure move fast for someone who’s still rehabbing from knee surgery,” she said on a laugh.
“I’m pretty much done with all that now and I’ve got quads of steel to prove it,” she answered, still pulling.
“You out job hunting yet then? I know by now you’re dying to get back in the cockpit.” Giving up flying Black Hawks must be hard for her, but Honor bet prospective employers didn’t see many female applicants with a service record like Devon’s. No doubt they were falling all over themselves trying to nab her.
“Already got two offers lined up, both private domestic contracts. Just waiting to see what Cam’s next orders are before making my decision. The money’s insane compared to what I made while I was in the service. I even negotiated terms on what aircraft I will and won’t fly. Nothing smaller than a 407,” she added smugly. “Both owners have been fighting over me the past few months while I’ve been recovering. They’ve been wining and dining me and one even offered to fly me to a spa down in California in his private bird while I think over the job offer.”
“And you didn’t go?” Man, Honor would be all over that.
“Not yet, but I will. Right before the wedding.” She shot Honor a grin.
“You are so awesome.”
“Ha! Thanks. I almost feel like I’m being romanced.”
Honor grinned back. “Bet Cam hates that, another man moving in on you, even if it is only about work.”
“He doesn’t love it,” Dev admitted, stopping at their cars, which were parked side by side. “A little competition’s good for him though. Keeps him on his toes, so he doesn’t get all complacent just because his ring’s on my finger.” She waggled her brows, and Honor knew she was totally teasing. Dev and Cam were completely devoted to each other.
They drove separately to a favorite comfort food place of Honor’s, located ten minutes away from base and slid into opposite sides of a booth at the back of the restaurant. After they both ordered an iced tea, Honor propped her elbows on the table, rested her chin in her hands and said, “All right, hit me.”
Not even pretending to misunderstand, Dev leaned forward, her expression avid. “So what happened between you guys over there?”
Like she didn’t already have a good idea. “What did Cam tell you, exactly?”
Her friend made a frustrated sound. “The man is like a vault about stuff like that, which I’ll admit is partly why I love him. All he said was he thought you guys had some unresolved issues to deal with.”
“Well that’s one way to put it, yeah,” she muttered, squeezing her lemon wedge into her drink and dropping it into the glass. She stirred her straw through the ice as she thought about how to explain it. She’d been back at JBLM for over a month now. The only ones from Bagram she had any contact with now were Erin by phone and Ace via e-mail. “The short and sweet version? He wanted closure. I gave it to him.”
Dev’s gray eyes widened. “By closure you mean…”
She nodded. “Uh huh.”
Dev lifted her eyebrows. “And then what?”
“And then he left.”
“Oh.” Dev sat back, a disappointed look on her face. “And you guys haven’t had any contact since?”
“Apart from a couple e-mails that told me absolutely nothing except he was sorry and thinking of me for whatever reason, no.” Since the second one just over a week ago there’d been radio silence from him. Maybe because she hadn’t responded to either of his e-mails. She was too angry to bother.
“What did he say?”
Honor sighed. “That he was ‘so fucking sorry for the way he acted’ and was thinking of me and wanted to talk when he got the chance. Whenever that might be. But he hasn’t called and it’s been over two weeks now since the last e-mail.” Just radio silence.
“And what did you say to him?”
“Nothing. I didn’t answer either time because I’ve got nothing to say to him. He can’t use me like that, stop by for a roll in the sack two nights before I go home, then take off. And he thinks sending me a couple of e-mails, one on the day he knew I was traveling and couldn’t respond, would make it all better? That’s pathetic.”
Devon narrowed her eyes. “What a freaking douche. I’m so disappointed. I thought Liam was better than that.”
“Nope. I’m done with the whole toxic relationship thing.”
Dev was quiet a moment. “He did reach out though. He wouldn’t have apologized if he didn’t mean it. And the two week delay since his last contact could mean all kinds of things. You know how it is with their OPTEMPO over there. Maybe he’s been stationed somewhere else or on a training mission someplace without access to internet.”