Rare and Precious Things (The Blackstone Affair 4)

I had to ask him. He knew how I operated, and it was by truth. The thing was, I’d always felt that about Ethan. He’d always been so blunt and truthful to me from day one. I loved that about him. He told me what was on his mind, sharing his desires, helping me to understand what he wanted and needed. But this awkward detached behavior really confused and hurt me.

“Oh, baby…no! Fuck no!” He shook his head vehemently. “Marrying you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Brynne. You think I am unhappy about you and the baby? Why?!”

He tightened his hand at my breast and loomed over me, his face very close, his dark blue eyes searching, flicking over me as if staring intently would reveal some mystery to him.

“You hurt my feelings. You left me there at the table and went off and started drinking. You never do that, Ethan. Why did you dance with Gwen and not with me?” The pitiful questions tumbled out of my mouth, humiliating me, but I couldn’t help it. Blame the hormones.

“Who?”

“Gwen, the skinny blonde.”

He didn’t look any less confused.

“Dillon’s date,” I said with emphasis, wondering if he was still drunk.

“Ahh… Yeah, her,” he grunted dismissively, “she pulled me out there, and I was too smashed, and too distracted to say no.”

“This does not make any of what you did tonight okay with me.” He needed to hear my unfiltered thoughts and know this sort of behavior would never fly.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said earnestly, before dropping his mouth to mine. He kissed me softly; very gentle and very loving, settling into his pattern of our after-sex make-out session. Long drawn out sweeps of tongue and lips, with no other purpose other than showing me he did indeed love me. I did feel considerably better, I’ll admit, but I was still confused about what had transpired tonight at the reception.

When he finally pulled back and gave me his eyes again, I sensed something big was going to be revealed.

“I love you so much, Brynne, and I can’t make it in this life without you. I’ll never regret our baby, and I’ll never stop loving you, or our children. You’re my life, and you’re stuck with me. And you are the most beautiful woman in the world. In the fucking world! Do you understand me, Brynne?” He sounded harsh, but the look on his face was pleading.

“Y-yes.” I sucked in a sob, feeling over-emotional and relieved, but still needing some answers from him. “S-so what happened t-tonight? Something happened, right?”

He settled on his side and faced me with his hand on my hip, as if he had to have physical contact with my body in order to tell me whatever he needed to say. “Yeah, baby, something happened.” He pulled me against him and pressed his lips to my hair and breathed in deeply. “Remember the woman who wanted to meet you at dinner? Sarah?”

“Yes. She seemed very nice, and friendly. How do you know her, Ethan?” Sarah was a beautiful woman, and charming in conversation. I recalled her seemingly genuine interest in how Ethan and I had met. She’d asked about my due date, but it had all felt socially normal to me, nothing weird.

“She came to the wedding today to pay her respects I suppose, but she had to leave because it was too hard for her to see Neil and Elaina, and you and me, living our happy lives with people we love.” His hand at my hip began to rub in a slow motion. “Sarah Hastings was married to someone who served in the SF with Neil and me. He didn’t…m-make it out of Afghanistan.”

“Oh…that’s horrible. I imagine you and Neil were close to him…”

“Yeah. He was under my command—in my squad.”

Ethan appeared calm as he talked, but I felt that he was harboring some deeply held grief or guilt about this man’s death in the war. I could only imagine whatever the experience had been for him, was horrific.

“You cared about him,” I said gently, not wanting to ask questions that would hurt him further. It was better for me to make statements of fact, rather than ask for more than he felt comfortable sharing.

“Mike Hastings was the very best of soldiers. Strong, loyal—a fighter to the bitter end. The kind of soldier you want at your back when the shit goes FUBAR,” Ethan said, in a faraway voice, weighted with respect and honor for his fallen comrade.

“I—I’ve heard you call out his name once…when you had a bad flashback…” I swept my lips to his chest and kissed right over his heart. I laid my ear there so I could hear his courageous heart beating against me. My heart.

He brought his hand up to the back of my head and rubbed into my hair, keeping me against him, allowing the comfort. “Mike. Yeah. That…m-memory about Mike is—is the worst one.”

“You don’t have to talk about him, Ethan, if you don’t want to. Baby, please don’t put yourself through it again just for my benefit.”

“No, you should know. You’re my wife, and you should know why—why I’m this way.”

I closed my eyes and braced for the explanation, knowing it would be something truly dreadful. “I love you, Ethan,” I whispered.

“Mike was taken prisoner along with me. He suffered what I suffered for just twenty days instead of my twenty-two. Then they ex-executed him in front of me. They used him as a—a p-practice run f-for what they were planning to do to me.”

I felt him swallow but his voice didn’t change. He sounded eerily calm and I tensed as I imagined how Mike Hastings had met his death. I remembered very well what Ethan had told me once. The Taliban were going to behead him and show the world a video of them doing it.

“They used a big fuckin’ knife and forced me to watch. They told me if I closed my eyes or looked away, they would make Mike suffer longer, cutting off parts of him that wouldn’t kill him, but lengthen the agony and prolong the inevitable. This was amusement for our captors, in their senseless, fucked-up, pious war they are so fanatical about.”