Page 61 of The Bombshell and the Bodyguard
Now that I thought about it, I of all people should have known better than to buy into the entertainment media’s portrayal of “Jade” as a callous heartbreaker flitting from one guy to the next and coldly mining the intimate details of her relationships for songwriting fuel.
“I’m sorry.” Grabbing the towels, I draped them over one arm and followed her.
“You’re right. I remember how it was when I was playing football—the horrible stuff that was said on Twitter and the way the paparazzi press framed things to make something out of nothing. And then of course with my commander’s court-martial and the shadow that cast on all of us publicly. I guess no one really knows what’s going on in someone’s life except the people who were there.”
She stopped and turned to face me. “Exactly.”
“Please accept my apology. That was totally out of line.”
The anger drained from her eyes. It was replaced with something that looked like concern.
“That must have been so hard, that whole scandal and trial. And you’ve never said a thing about it—to the press or even to Hap.”
A shot of white-hot pain pierced my heart. It was followed by the same dull ache that haunted me whenever I thought of the incident and its ugly aftermath.
My commanding officer had once been a personal hero of mine. A veteran of five combat zone deployments, he’d been a role model to all the younger SEALs.
But my fellow SEAL team members and I had seen our commander change over time. He’d become a rogue operator, making unwise decisions and leading the men under his charge into unnecessarily risky situations, sometimes violating orders and U.S. military rules and practices.
But that wasn’t the worst of it by far. During our last mission, the commander had committed heinous acts of unnecessary violence against innocent civilians in the village where we were stationed.
We’d all seen him fire a sniper rifle into a shopping area filled with women and children, beat an elderly man who could barely walk, and then there was what he’d done to the teenaged girl—thefourteen-year-oldteenaged girl.
He’d ordered us all to keep our mouths shut about it. Though I was sure it had devastated them all as much as it had me, I and every member of the team had broken the group’s code of silence and testified against our chief in a military trial.
It had been a no-win situation with no good choices—but there had been only one choice that would allow me to live with myself.
I looked away from Jessica and continued walking, trying to tamp down the flood of shame and anger those memories always triggered.
“I try not to think about it. It’s in the past now anyway.”
She refused to drop it, persisting with her soft eyes and sympathetic tone. “I hated the way you all got dragged through the mud. And then your commander lied about you. I knew you couldn’t have had anything to do with it, but you never defended yourself publicly—even when your commander accused you of being a traitor to him and your country.”
“Yeah well, the Trident badge is supposed to be a symbol of honor and uncompromising integrity,” I said. “We took an oath to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves, to serve with honor on and off the battlefield. Just becausehebroke it, that didn’t mean I was going to. It was the toughest decision of my life to testify against him. It still bothers me sometimes.”
She nodded. “Isthatwhy you’re so obsessed with being seen as ‘loyal?’ And with staying out of the spotlight?”
“I’m not ‘obsessed.’ I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I opened the door to the house and went straight to the kitchen, getting a glass of water I didn’t really want.
Jessica picked up her discarded sundress from the floor and followed me into the kitchen. “Wilder, you have nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to prove to anyone. You’re a hero—for what you did as a SEAL and for what you did when youleftthe military. And now… you’ve provided jobs for your former team members, you keep people safe.”
Softly she added, “You’re keepingmesafe.”
As close as I’d felt to Jessica a few minutes earlier, now I found myself shutting down, withdrawing.
Instead of making me feel better, her words made me feel worse. I’d broken every rule of personal protection with her, stomped on every guideline. Perhaps worst of all, I’d violated Hap’s trust in me.
In spite of what I’d just said to her, Ididhave athing about loyalty. While in general it was a positive quality, even good things could be taken to an unhealthy extreme.
And now that I thought about it, Iwasobsessive about my privacy. I’d never liked fame, even the small amount I’d had back when I played college football on a championship team.
Infamywas a thousand times worse. I’d seen enough courthouse photos and unflattering headlines about myself and my disgraced SEAL brothers to last a lifetime.
These days I sought to be as invisible as possible, flying under the radar, treasuring my anonymity and using my past negative experiences with the tabloid press to help me advise celebrity clients on protecting and preserving their own privacy.
Even if Hapdidn’tmurder me when we got back home—and that was a definite possibility—it wasn’t like Jessica and I could make a life together.
Cos-playingBlue Lagoona thousand miles from civilization was one thing—real life was another.
