Blaze of Glory (22 page)

He
had
to
touch
her,
this
woman,
so
much
more
amazing
than
he’d
even
realized.
He
slung
his
arm
around her
shoulder
and
wished
he
could
be
a
more
sensitive
kind
of
guy
who
could
offer
her
the
reassurance
she deserved
and
quite
probably
still
needed.
“And
here
you
are.
You
beat
it
and
are
still
kicking
ass.”

“By
luck,
yes,
I
did.”
Her
pep
faded
again
as
she
picked
at
the
hem
of
her
dress.
“They
gave
me
the
option of
keeping
my
ovaries,
but
I
figured
they
would
be
so
damaged
by
the
radiation,
what
would
it
matter?” He
tucked
her
closer,
his
chin
resting
on
her
head.
“Did
you
have
eggs
extracted
beforehand
in
case
you wanted
to
go
the
surrogate
route?”

She
snuggled
closer
rather
than
pull
away,
so
he
breathed
a
sigh
of
relief
that
apparently
he
was
treading through
this
terribly
sensitive
conversation
without
hurting
her.
Yet.
He
focused
all
his
attention
on
her
to
try and
be
sensitive,
something
that
wasn’t
second
nature
to
him.

“My
parents
really
wanted
me
to
freeze
some
unfertilized
eggs.
I’m
an
only
child
so
they
figured
that
would be
their
lone
chance
at
grandparenthood.”

Matt
couldn’t
help
but
notice
they’d
been
thinking
of
their
wishes,
not
her
needs.
“What
did
you
figure?”

“I
could
see
their
point
and
I
totally
support
the
notion…but
for
me?”
She
shook
her
head
against
his
chest.

“I
just
couldn’t
do
it.
I
was
at
some
kind
of
breaking
point,
I
think.
Too
much
to
absorb,
too
afraid
to
think
of the
future
when
today
already
seemed
in
question.”

He
hooked
a
knuckle
under
her
chin
and
tipped
her
face
up.
“And
yet
here
you
are.
Any
regrets?”

“I’m
thirtyeight
now.”

“Plenty
of
women
are
mothers
even
later
than
that.”

Her
eyes
held
his.
“Having
a
daddy
for
the
baby
is
nice,
too.”

“I
have
to
agree.”
His
hand
fell
away
as
the
past
settled
over
him
like
a
heavy
blanket,
tiring
to
carry
around, but
not
a
chance
he
would
ever
shrug
it
off.
“The
singleparent
route
is
tough
as
hell.”

“And
you
were
so
young.”
Felicia
cupped
his
face
in
her
soft
hands,
her
long
painted
nails
scratching
ever so
gently,
soothingly
up
into
his
hairline.

“Grace
Marie
and
I
grew
up
together
in
some
ways.
In
others,
I
fear
too
much
pressure
was
put
on
her
to grow
up
fast
because
she
felt
she
had
to
take
care
of
me.”
He
worked
to
pull
forth
the
happy
memories, because
if
he
let
the
others
creep
in
too
often
he
wanted
to
cry
for
his
kid
and
he
couldn’t
go
down
that emotional
sinkhole.

“Because
your
wife
left?”

“Because
I’m
bipolar.”

She
stilled
beside
him.
“Excuse
me?”

“I’m
what
others
would
call
a
manicdepressive.
I
thought
you
would
have
read
that
in
my
records
before heading
into
the
university
compound.”

“No.
I
mean,
yes,
I
read
your
records
and
there
was
mention
of
occasional
bouts
of
depression,
but
not
this.”

“Hmm.
Guess
I
need
to
thank
someone
higher
up
for
sanitizing
my
record.”
Could
Grace
Marie
have
had
a friend
in
the
FBI
or
CIA
who’d
adjusted
his
records?
Possible,
knowing
his
kid
was
so
determined
to
protect him.

Except
right
now
wasn’t
about
Gracie.
This
was
about
Felicia
and
what
they
planned
to
do
with
the attraction
between
them.
How
far
could
this
friendship
tangled
up
with
great
sex
go?
“You
hear
of
bipolar disease
more
in
women,
but
that’s
thought
to
be
because
it’s
not
as
often
diagnosed
in
men.
We’re
not
so great
about
going
for
help.”

“Macho
ego?”
she
said
perceptively,
her
hands
still
massaging
along
his
head
soothingly,
as
if
realizing
how stressful
talking
about
this
was
for
him.

“I
can’t
speak
for
other
men,
but
for
me,
pretty
much.
They
only
caught
it
in
me
because
so
much
money rode
on
the
projects
I
was
working
on
at
the
time,
my
bosses
freaked
when
my
productivity
decreased.”
He couldn’t
keep
the
bitterness
out
of
his
voice.
“Couldn’t
let
their
cash
cow
stumble.”

“I
never
would
have
guessed.”
Her
hands
fell
to
his
shoulders
now,
more
massaging,
reassuring,
helping
in
a support
he’d
never
had
before.

“I
take
my
meds.
Check
in
with
my
shrink
on
a
regular
basis.
But
the
thing
is,
there’s
no
cure.”
He
needed for
her
to
understand
fully.
“I’ve
done
my
damnedest
to
keep
it
under
control
and
function.
I
had
to,
for
my daughter,
since
I
was
solely
responsible
for
her.
Luckily,
that
dawned
on
me
during
one
of
my
saner moments
when
I
realized
this
demon
would
chew
my
ass
all
my
life.” Her
hands
stopped
moving
and
she
grasped
his
shoulders
with
firm
determination.
“You’re
a
strong
man
to have
handled
this
amazingly
well
and
brought
up
such
an
awesomely
successful
daughter.” A
blush
burned
his
neck.
Sheesh.
He
didn’t
deserve
praise
for
doing
his
job.
“Gracie
was
a
lowmaintenance kid,
pretty
much
an
unbreakable
model,
ya
know?
I
was
lucky.”

“Did
she
graduate
early
like
you?”
Felicia
seemed
to
take
the
hint
and
shifted
the
conversation.

“A
little
early.
She’s
smart,
topofherclass
bright
and
graduated
at
sixteen,
but
not
freakland
like
me,
thank God.
She
did
manage
to
finish
up
her
Ph.D.
in
psychology
early.
She’s
high
productivity,
but
in
a
good, normal
way.”

“So
you
taught
her
lots?”
Felicia
prodded
like
a
pit
bull,
determined
to
give
him
credit
for
a
strength
Gracie naturally
possessed.
She
would
have
flourished
anywhere.

“She
hung
around
my
computer
and
labs,
but
we
agreed
on
one
hour
of
fun
dadanddaughter
time
each day.”
He
thought
back
to
those
happier
times
and
that
heavy
emotional
blanket
lost
about
ten
pounds.
“We alternated
picking
the
activity.”

“I
hope
there
are
pictures
of
the
teaparty
days.”

“Tea
party?”
He
snorted.
“Not
for
my
Gracie.
More
like
basketball,
carnivals,
museums,
movies, skateboarding
and
oh,
there
was
the
trampoline
she
wanted
so
much.”

“You
bought
it
for
her?”

“Of
course.”
He
had
money
to
burn,
so
he
could
buy
his
kid
anything
she
wanted.
Although
he
tried
not
to spoil
her,
it
was
tough
to
hold
back.
During
a
manic
time,
the
spending
could
spiral
out
of
control…wait.
He wasn’t
going
there
today.
“I
would
do
anything
for
that
kid
to
make
up
for
the
strange
life
she
got
stuck
with all
because
I
couldn’t
keep
my
pants
zipped
around
a
pushy
lab
assistant.” Felicia
stiffened
beside
him.
“Like
me,
you
mean?”

“No,
damn
it.”
He
held
her
tight,
wanting
his
point
to
be
strong
and
clear—and
believed.
Sometimes
that was
the
toughest
part
of
all.
People
doubted
him
because
of
the
disease.
He
couldn’t
handle
it
if
Felicia
was that
type.
“I’m
not
a
horny
eighteenyearold
who
can’t
see
beyond
the
breasts
anymore.”

“Thanks.”
She
glanced
down
at
her
perfectly
pert
A
cups.
“I
think.” His
hands
moved
to
the
stretchy
sleeves
of
her
dress
and
started
to
inch
them
aside.
“If
you
don’t
mind,
I would
like
to
see
those
perfect
breasts
of
yours
again,
while
thinking
about
all
the
rest
of
the
perfect
parts
of you,
inside
and
out.”

“God,
you
must
have
been
the
most
popular
stud
in
high
school—oh,
wait,
you
were
only
twelve.
Ew.

Scratch
that
thought.”

“Thanks
for
the
kudos.”

She
brushed
her
fingers
over
his
chest,
shaking
her
head.
“You
really
are
a
freaking
genius
in
places
other than
the
bedroom.
When
did
you
finish
your
studies?”

“I
completed
my
first
Ph.D.
when
I
was
seventeen.”

Felicia
was
as
good
at
stroking
his
ego
as
she
was
his
penis,
which
she
seemed
to
be
very
occupied
with
at the
moment.

“I
seem
to
recall
you
have
more
than
one.”
She
rolled
her
thumb
over
the
head,
smoothing
the
drop
of
fluid easing
free.

“Three,”
he
said,
surprised
he
could
still
talk
with
her
hand
on
him
and
his
hands
now
cupping
her
breasts.

“It
helps
me
blend
the
pieces
of
my
studies,
although
I
didn’t
get
the
second
two
until
I
was
in
my
thirties.”

“Why
the
wait?”
Base
to
tip,
she
stroked
again
and
again.

“I
was
busy
with
other
things
in
my
twenties.”

“Solving
world
peace?
Fixing
the
ozone
layer?”
She
stroked
faster.

“Bringing
up
my
daughter.”
He
grazed
his
fingers
over
Felicia’s
breast,
teasingly.
“And
I
have
to
confess
I do
not
want
to
talk
about
my
kid
anymore
right
now.”

She
paused
her
stimulating
hand
job
long
enough
to
press
a
tender
kiss
to
his
mouth.
“But
that’s
so
sweet about
your
daughter.”

His
hands
dropped
back
to
her
waist.
“Well,
it’s
the
truth,
and
the
way
things
should
be.
I
wish
I
could
have been
this
level
for
her
all
the
time,
but
it
was
a
while
before
we
realized
exactly
what
meds
I
needed.
Some of
the
meds
now
also
work
better
for
me.”

He
gently
squeezed
her
waist
and
started
his
trek
toward
her
breasts
again.
“Do
you
really
want
to
keep talking
about
this
now?
Because
if
you
don’t
start
moving
your
hand
again
I
think
I
may
just
die
here.” She
glided
her
fingers
up.
“Consider
the
conversation
over.” Matt
reclined
her
back
against
the
cot,
covering
her
with
his
overheated
body,
more
than
ready
for
more
of Felicia.

If
only
he
could
turn
off
those
darker,
heavier
thoughts
in
the
back
of
his
mind
reminding
him
it
had
been
all he
could
do
to
hold
himself
together
to
bring
up
a
child.

How
could
he
ever
guarantee
Felicia
anything
beyond
this
moment?

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

GRACEMARIE
EXPERIENCEDa
temporary
understanding
of
Bobby’s
twitchy
boot.
Bobby—who
had been
dodging
her.

She
suspected
he
was
running
scared,
the
fearless
Bobby
“Postal”
Ruznick.
She
could
see
it
in
his
eyes
the few
times
their
paths
did
cross.
The
fact
that
the
feelings
between
them
unsettled
evenhim
knockedher further
off
balance.

The
two
of
them
were
a
royal
mess,
and
they
both
had
too
much
time
to
ruminate
about
it.

The
camp
was
in
a
holding
pattern,
waiting
for
the
okay
from
the
General
to
leave.
Their
part
of
the
exercise was
done,
right?
And
then
some.
So
what
did
he
have
in
the
works?

Instead,
they
were
hanging
around
their
tent
camp
playing
“bonding
games.”
Volleyball
today,
Air
Force versus
Army.

Damn.
Wasn’t
putting
your
life
on
the
line
with
each
other
a
bonding
experience?

At
any
rate,
the
guys
did
seem
to
enjoy
the
volleyball
game.
She
would
probably
join
in
soon,
because
she couldn’t
wait
to
see
the
look
on
Bobby’s
face
when
she
fed
him
a
face
ball
in
an
overthenet
spike.

A
shadow
cast
over
her
as
she
sat
under
the
banyan
tree.
She
didn’t
need
to
ask
who
it
was.
The
woman’s wild
curly
hair
made
a
helluva
shadow.

Grace
Marie
wanted
her
dad
to
have
a
normal
life
and
relationships.
However,
she
couldn’t
squelch
the protective
urge
to
make
sure
no
one
took
advantage
of
him.
What
did
this
woman
want?
Well,
Grace
Marie felt
no
guilt
over
calling
to
the
fore
all
her
psychological
training
to
probe
around
in
this
chick’s
mind
to determine
her
motives.

The
woman—Felicia
FrataratasoundslikeaStarbucksdrink
swung
around
beside
her,
MRE
pack
tucked under
her
arm.
At
least
she’d
changed
out
of
her
red
dress
and
darnneardangerous
heels.
Now,
Felicia wore
baggy
BDU
pants
and
a
skintight
Tshirt.
Tough
to
imagine
where
she
could
have
found
one
that small,
but
apparently
this
petite
woman
was
determined
to
show
off
her
assets.

Screw
the
fact
this
woman
was
a
highly
trained
agent—Grace
Marie’s
trust
factor
inched
down.

For
shoes,
they’d
scrounged
her
up
some
gym
shoes—so
small
that
surely
no
guy
around
here
would actually
claim
them
as
his
own
for
fear
of
scaring
off
potential
dates.

The
IAEA
agent
asked,
“Mind
if
I
sit
with
you?”

“Not
at
all.”
She
definitely
wanted
to
get
to
know
this
woman
better.

Felicia
plopped
down
on
the
blanket
beside
her
and
tore
into
the
MRE,
spreading
the
contents
for
a
chiliandmacaroni
meal
out
in
front
of
her.
She
shook
her
water
bottle
with
a
powdered
lemonade
pack
and pretty
much
ignored
everything
but
the
crackers.
She
reached
up
to
unsnag
one
of
her
curls
from
a
tree branch.

Grace
Marie
dug
in
her
pocket
and
pulled
out
a
hair
scrunchie.
She
kept
a
couple
on
hand
to
ensure
she always
looked
her
most
sleek
in
uniform.

The
woman
smiled.
“Thanks.
All
my
hair
products
are
back
at
the
compound
and
this
mane
of
mine
is
fast going
out
of
control
in
this
humidity.”

“Glad
to
help,”
Grace
Marie
answered.

Felicia
nibbled
her
cracker
and
pointed
to
the
volleyball
match.
“These
men
are
so
confident.
I
feel
I’m backstroking
through
testosterone.”

She
watched
Bobby
in
his
shorts
and
sweatstained
Tshirt
dive
into
the
dirt
to
fish
up
a
ball
with
as
much determination
as
saving
a
life.
He
needed
a
shave
and
yet
that
only
made
him
sexier.
After
spending
more time
with
him,
she
now
knew
he
had
to
shave
twice
a
day
if
he
wanted
a
cleanfaced
look.
“They
are
a
sexy crowd.”

“Sexy?
I
was
thinking
overpowering.”
Felicia
gathered
up
her
mop
of
hair
and
secured
it
with
the
scrunchie into
an
abundant
ponytail.

Overpowering
made
for
an
odd
choice
of
word.
Never
once
had
Grace
Marie
felt
afraid
of
Bobby,
only
of her
feelings
for
him.
Her
eyes
still
glued
to
him,
she
answered
absently,
“They
spend
a
lot
of
time
on confidence
courses.”

“Confidence
courses?”
Felicia
stopped
her
drink
halfway
to
her
mouth.
“You’re
kidding.
Aren’t
you?” Grace
Marie
shook
her
head.
“’Fraid
not.
Think
about
the
things
they
need
to
accomplish
and
then
tell
me
if they
might
need
help
in
trusting
themselves,
their
training,
their
instincts
without
hesitation.”

“What
goes
into
one
of
these
confidence
courses?”
She
swiped
cracker
crumbs
from
her
lap.

“You
might
have
heard
it
called
an
obstacle
course
but
what
it
really
does
is
build
confidence.
By
running through
a
course
of
obstacles
that
require
balance,
strength
and
courage
they
gain
confidence
in
themselves and
each
other.
Say
you
have
a
fear
of
heights
and
you
climb
a
cargo
net
to
the
top
of
a
fiftyfoot
wall, swing
over
and
descend
back
down
the
other
side
on
a
rope
without
killing
yourself.
That
builds
confidence.

That’s
why
so
many
of
them
think
they
can
leap
tall
buildings
in
a
single
bound
and
all
that.”

“I’ve
had
some
experience
with
survival
training
in
my
job,
but
since
we
mostly
expected
me
to
be
a
lab geek,
I
had
to
go
through
a
crash
course
for
this
assignment.”

“Then
you’ve
certainly
got
some
sense
of
understanding
for
what
these
guys
are
put
through.
These
Special Ops
aviators
have
all
been
through
not
only
the
monthlong
regular
survivalandresistance
training,
but
also whatwe
call
the
Varsity
Course.They
call
it
‘Advanced
Beating
and
Bleeding.’
Either
way,
it’s
designed
to help
them
learn
how
to
resist
if
captured.
They
are
finely
honed
for
battle,
without
a
doubt.”

“Why
would
anyone
choose
to
go
through
so
much
physical
pain?
I’ve
been
through
training
and
served
my country
without
risking
my
sanity
or
physical
torture.”