Page 47 of Hazard

She nodded, glancing one more time at the raiders, then followed him into the Mess Hall.

As they entered, his team, all seated at a table near the line, rose as one, then settled in behind him in line.

There was some pushing and shoving like they were in high school, and Hazard braced himself. Boomer started singing “Another One Bites the Dust,” under his breath.

GQ leaned over his shoulder and said, “I heard you’re sweet on a girl.”

“Ew,” Kodiak said. “Not that mushy stuff.”

“Yeah,” Preacher said, crinkling up his nose. “SEALs don’t do mushy things. We’re professionals.”

“What do you mean?” Skull said in a mock horrified voice, his hand to his heart. “Kissing and hugging stuff?”

Breakneck started making kissing noises.

“Stop it,” Hazard said, turning around and glaring at them.

“What was that you said?” Kodiak murmured with his hand to his ear. “I couldn’t hear you above the hypocrisy.”

“Aw, don’t bust his chops. It’s tough when the mighty fall,” GQ whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

“Et tu, Goldilocks?” Hazard asked, pinning GQ with a hard stare.

He shrugged with a grin. “If the glass slipper fits, there, Prince Charming.”

Leigh’s shoulders were shaking, and he nudged her. “Don’t encourage them,” he hissed. She turned to look at him and managed to keep a straight face as he raised his eyes to the heavens in a beseeching gesture. She mouthed Goldilocks. Prince Charming? with a smirk and dancing eyes, and he shook his head.

“Cut it out, you bunch of five-year-olds,” Iceman said, but that gleam in his boss’s pale blue eyes only heralded mischief. “Only Goldilocks knows when it’s…just right.”

The kicker to Iceman’s statement sent the guys into peals of laughter, including Leigh. Hazard just shook his head and said, “Et tu, Leelee?”

She sobered, then said out of the blue. “My full name is Leigh Ann. I didn’t want to be perceived as a blonde bimbo. It’s why I darkened my hair and dropped Ann when I graduated from college,” she whispered.

He set his hand against her back, understanding this was important information she felt she needed to share with him. “It doesn’t matter what I call you, babe, everything about you is special.”

She reached back and briefly squeezed his hand, sending a look over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling. “I don’t think you’re a blond bimbo, either.”

“Aw, does that mean you won’t be our pinup girl anymore?” Boomer said. At Hazard’s one-finger salute, Boomer clapped him on the back, and they all settled down.

But Leigh’s confession lingered along with whatever she was concealing from him. Didn’t she know that he would take on her pain…he would walk through hell for her? With this newfound love that was rolling through him, it was difficult not to take her aside and try and get her to talk, but after all his experience, he knew that wasn’t going to work. People had to open up in their own time, their own space.

He just hoped it wasn't a hard landing for her when she finally let go.

Lunch was quick and subdued. Leigh didn’t eat much, just pushed her food around on the plate. They didn’t have much time left before they had to get to the conference room. In his haste, Kodiak dropped his tray, and Leigh’s reaction was both explosive and immediate.

She turned to him with a soft cry, throwing herself into his arms, and he simply reacted, sliding his arms around her, his hand snagging in her soft, loose hair. The metal clang reverberated through the Mess Hall, drawing eyes and attention. He pressed her head against his shoulder, then wrapped her up in a strong, secure hug. She swallowed hard.

“Hey, you okay?”

She let him go abruptly, her mouth tightening. “Why do you keep asking me that?” she snapped. “It just startled me,” she whispered with an unsteady tone, so softly that he could barely hear her. Leigh was gathering her composure, her chest expanding. Then she looked up at him. “Don’t coddle me,” she added, real, immediate anger flashing. She stalked away.

He looked over at the team, as Hazard acknowledged the concern in their eyes with a quick nod. Skull grimaced, his expression stark. “Everyone handles trauma differently,” he said, the other guys murmuring their agreement.

As a combat veteran, he recognized the hypervigilance with the windows, and the anger, explaining the nightmares. It was that thousand-yard-stare. Shell shock was the term used in World War I and battle fatigue in World War II, but now it was called Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. Her sense of safety and trust had been shattered, leaving her feeling unbalanced, disconnected, and numb. Her nightmares and the fear she expressed when encountering the Marines were a reminder of what had happened to her and seemed to be triggering her reaction.

She would choose to stay mute. She was a frustrating woman. He was aware that pressuring her into talking would backfire. He was sensitive to how difficult it was to talk about her experience. The best he could do for her was stay engaged with her, and hopefully, she’d feel secure in talking to him. That’s where his calm, relaxed, and focused personality came into play and would be the best thing for Leigh. He ached to alleviate her pain, reduce her anxiety, and comfort her, but she had to come to him with an open mind for that to happen. Then he could react to what she was feeling and maybe help her.

When he and the team entered the conference room, Leigh was already at the front of the room. That stark look was back in her eyes and her face was so pale it was scary. Obviously, struggling, she looked so damned forlorn and lost. He started forward, unable to leave her just hanging there, but before he could even take a step, Nick sidled up to her and started babbling. She never took her eyes off him, and his gut clenched when he realized she was trembling. She bit her lip, then swallowed hard. Skull pushed him down into his seat. “Sit, brother. She’ll be okay. She’s a fighter.”

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