Page 148 of Severed Heart
“It’s an alphabet operation outside of our government that uses experienced vets, the best of each branch of the military, to carry out missions that also don’t exist. I’ve done a hell of a lot of marching, General.”
My eyes widen. “You have faced so many battles, Soldier?”
“One too many,” he exhales, keeping my eyes as he drops the loofah and grabs my shampoo.
“So, you weren’t in the Marines all this time?”
“Yes and no. According to the United States, I’ve been a Marine for eight consecutive years and counting. Truth? I served my first four years in the Marines, two years and change in the GRS, and the rest in the reserves. No one knows the extent of it but Tobias, who I thought might have told you.”
“You didn’t tell Dom and Sean?”
“Jesus, we have a lot to talk about.” He massages my scalp with his fingers as he answers. “Yes and no. I gave them enough to hold them because there were long periods that I couldn’t contact home. And when I did, I kept it to a bare minimum because I didn’t want my boss at the time—who was in the CIA—catching wind of the club.”
“Tyler,” I gawk. “You worked for the CIA?”
“No, I worked forme,” he says, gently ushering me under the shower head to rinse, “as a contractor, under theguisethat I was working for them. I was investigating the military, like I told you I would. I didn’t want our club on their radar, so while I was in, I didn’t come home and made very few calls. I’ve spent the last few years before this summer on a base in Greensboro. Now I’m here until I can secure an invitation to the secret service”—he resumes with my loofah—“or join Preston’s security detail, depending on which invite comes first.”
“You’ve been backmany timesto Triple Falls?”
“Many times,” he delivers like a blow. I bite my lip and nod, the anger just beneath his words muting any more questions as I drop my gaze.
“Hey,” he says, pulling my eyes back to his with his timbre alone.
“Let’s not start on a shitty note. I have so much to tell you, that is if you want to hear it,” he whispers, running the loofah gently over my back.
“I want to hear it all,” I say, catching his eyes trailing a little lower before he darts them to the side of the shower stall, all the while gently massaging the sponge along my body.
“I don’t know how to thank you, Soldier,” I whisper. “I don’t know how to thank you for doing this for me. For the lengths you have gone to, for . . .” My eyes fill. “I’m ... I can’t believe all you have done for me after—”
His eyes pierce me deep, cutting the words I can’t yet summon but am determined tofind. “I told you I don’t want anything in return, but if you really want to, then thank me by stealing your life back. Bytakingyour future in your hands andlivingit the way you’ve always wanted to,” he says, gently scrubbing my skin. “And winning this fucking war, General.”
I nod in determination despite my fatigue. “I will fight hard, I promise. For you, and for me, Soldier. I will fucking fightso hard.”
His lips lift slightly. “I knew you were still in there.”
“I will admit I’ve been an imbecile for some time with my health, Soldier, but cancer is a fucking asshole. It is merciless.”
“Do you feel any better today?”
“I am tired and aching in places I forgot existed,” I sigh. “To be honest, it feelsvery strangeright now to be sober.”
“When did you start day drinking?” he asks, gently scrubbing my stomach.
“Two years ago,” I admit. “It was a very bad time. Very bad. I was fed up with doctors and needles. With all of it, I had—” I shake my head. “I got tired of hoping.”
“Before you gave up?” he prods, and I bite my lips before I nod in a truthful reply.
“I was not ready to die but no longer wanted to fight. I no longer felt any reason to. I did not see or feel capable of whatever fight you saw in me when you came.”
He lifts my chin with his finger. “I’ve always seen it—you, Delphine.”
My eyes spill over. “I had not seen you in so long, Soldier, I forgot myself. I forgot the way you saw me, the way I was starting to see myself before you left. It’s my fault, I know, but it’s the truth.”
He stops his movements, anger radiating just beneath his skin, and in his return stare before he hands me the sponge. I take it as he turns his back, palming the tile in front of him so that I can comfortably clean myself intimately. Making quick work of it, I scour every inch of his insane build as I do. Once done, I drop the loofah and tentatively place my palms on his back, feeling him tense instantly before I press my forehead between his bulging blades.
“Soldier,” I rasp softly, running my hands from his shoulders, over the swollen curves of his biceps, and down to his muscular forearms. He emits a low curse when I slowly and appreciatively run my hands back up his arms, keeping them on his shoulders before I lean in, pressing a kiss to his skin before I speak. “Tyler, I—”
“Let’s get you out,” he clips before turning abruptly and staring down at me with barely concealed contempt as both of us ignore the very obvious cock salute in his boxers. “You ready?”
