Their Sin City Showgirl (The American Soldier Collection 7)
“You mean you were in combat with them when they died?”
“Yeah. We were all involved in some very heavy shit.”
She stared at him, and he felt like they were making some sort of a connection. But he was still on guard. J.J. was so unpredictable.
“Was it hard for you? For Calder, Brook, and Conway to adapt back to being civilians, after experiencing the things you experienced?” she asked.
He thought about her question. Perhaps she was reaching out for information and this could be a way for him to help her.
“Well, you probably heard about post-traumatic stress syndrome? We all suffered from it when we returned.”
“How did you gain control of it?”
“Well, we still suffer from it really. Our daily activities help us. We’ve trained our minds to not give so much power to the thoughts, the memories of the bad times.”
“How do you do that? I mean, doesn’t it feel like your mind has more control than you do?”
He took a deep breath and released a soft sigh. This was making progress.
“J.J., PTSS can be very serious if it isn’t treated. Or at minimum, not shared with people who care. As I mentioned earlier, we all suffered from it. We don’t sleep well at night. We always keep an eye on what’s going on around us, and having this place fully wired with surveillance helps us to ensure our minds that the enemy isn’t going to infiltrate the perimeter of our property and home.”
She looked around the room and then leaned back on the palms of her hands.
“Then you’re lucky that you have one another.”
“Hey, I’m here for you, and you’re not alone in this.”
She shot him a look.
“We were talking about you. Not me,” she snapped.
“Were we now?”
“Yeah, we were. I don’t have that PTSS, and I’m all alone in this world. I don’t have my military buddies, or the capabilities to wire anything to ensure my safety. I don’t even have a home anymore because the fucker blew it up.” She stood up and so did Lincoln.
“The person who you’re hiding from blew up your fucking home?” he asked.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was trying to calm herself down.
“Listen, Lincoln, I don’t know why you guys are doing this. I don’t know why Sandman recommended the four of you, and I don’t know what the outcome of all this will be. I’ve pretty much accepted my fate. I’m going to die. They are going to find me and erase everything that happened and no one is going to give a fuck. So please, don’t patronize me and tell me that you’re here for me, when you don’t even know me.”
“You don’t know us or our capabilities. If you just let us in on this, we can better understand the situation. You’re not alone anymore. If you just start showing us some trust, and some sort of commitment to this situation and let us in, then we can and will protect you fully, with our lives. You don’t ever have to be alone again, J.J. Show us that you trust us.”
She started to walk backward. He could see the tears in her eyes, the struggle in her gaze as she shook her head.
“I don’t know how to. I’m sorry,” she whispered and then headed out of the room.
He grabbed his sweatshirt and followed her, but not before glancing at the camera, knowing that someone from his team was watching and listening.
* * * *
Calder and Brook were in the surveillance room.
“I’d call that progress, but damn, is she fucking scared. I want to know who hurt her. I want to know who put that fear in her eyes and what happened that she’s suffering from PTSS. Lincoln is right. We can help her,” Brook stated.
The soft beeping sound indicated that someone was approaching the roadway leading up to the property by motor vehicle. A quick glance toward the cameras by the front gate and they spotted the small red sports car.
“Pauline. Damn, why can’t that woman leave us alone?”