The first several weeks when Gunner was hiding and healing, she’d noticed him doodling and drawing on any scrap of paper he was near. He hadn’t noticed—it was something he hadn’t done since his mother had died. Before that, his mother used to tease him that any available space would be filled with his drawings.
When she’d died, he’d opened one of her suitcases and found a large stack of his drawings, from some of his earliest doodles to some of the most recent. He’d lost that suitcase after moving to Powell’s. He had little doubt that Powell took one look at it, dismissed it as sentimental rubbish and burned it.
Thankfully, you couldn’t burn memories as easily.
Josie had let him give her a tattoo, the first one he’d ever done. He’d been nervous, hadn’t wanted to mar her beautiful skin. Hadn’t wanted to make a mistake. But the bold, funny, raunchy woman told him that mistakes were what made life interesting.
“We can fix anything, James,” she’d added.
He’d used the gun, not the sticks. It took him months before he was comfortable with that method, and it still wasn’t exactly his bag. He’d let the buzz of the needle mesmerize him. She’d insisted that he use it freehand, tattoo the first thing that came to his mind.
He’d drawn a butterfly.
“I love it, James,” she’d told him.
“I don’t think you want to get involved with me.”
“Then stop thinking,” she’d said, right before she’d kissed him.
They’d made love for the first time that night. Lying on her mattress stuffed with cypress leaves and smelling like lavender and other scents that would forever remind him of Josie, he’d told her that he loved her.
Didn’t know how he was capable of that still, but he hadn’t wanted to question it.
Those were some of the good memories. The escape he’d made from the life with Landon into Josie’s arms was one he’d never chosen, but he’d been happy with it. Would he have stayed that way?
He’d never gotten the chance to know.
“Maybe your past will just let you go,” she’d said. And, for a year, it had. And then it had sunk its claws back into his life with a vicious vengeance that rocked his life to this day.
Don’t go there, he warned himself, but too much whiskey brought up too many memories, and he was in the right mood to torture himself.
Josie had been raised by two men who were both SEALs. She knew how to fight, how to use weapons. She hadn’t fought, hadn’t seen it coming. She’d never been given a chance.
He wanted to run out the door, follow a trail to her killer before it got cold. But all he could do was kneel in slow motion beside her body and gather Josie in his arms. He didn’t know how long he’d sat there holding her when he realized Andy was shaking him. Moving him aside so Mike could check the body.
“Look at me. You have to leave. James, do you understand? You have to get the hell out of here now,” Andy was saying to him. Somehow, even in his state of mourning, he heard that. Pushed himself shakily to his feet.
“I’ll go.”
Andy propelled him onto the back porch. Started stripping him, and it was then Gunner realized his clothes were stained with Josie’s blood. His body shook and he got sick over the side of the porch. Andy held him so he didn’t fall over.
He wanted to ask why Andy was helping him. Wanted the man to punch him out. To stab him, shoot him, accuse him outright. But the being nice was the biggest and most effective dagger that sank directly into his heart.
He was paralyzed with shame and fear. And he couldn’t admit to Andy where he’d been, although the man was far from stupid. He and Mike had to suspect something.
He let Andy strip him, take his clothes and burn them out in the swamp, where the remains would be quickly swallowed by the bayou. Mike brought out a packed bag, new clothes, while Gunner washed with the pump in the back so he didn’t drag any more blood through the house.
“I’m going to call the police in a couple of hours. We’re going to say this was a home invasion and that you’re away, visiting a friend. I have a Navy buddy who’ll provide the cover story for you,” Mike said. “You have to leave. James, do you understand?”
“I’ll go.”
“James.” He was forced to look into Mike’s eyes. “We’re not kicking you out. We’re protecting you.”
“Why?”
“Josie would never forgive us if we didn’t.”
He hadn’t seen Mike or Andy since he’d left that night. They hadn’t lied about helping him. They’d set him up to have shelter, to get new identification and paperwork, to create an entirely new life that led him into the Navy and then the SEALs and finally into a shop back in New Orleans where he tattooed people and helped mercenaries like himself in an attempt to pay back the penance he owed.
He’d learned lessons. Done what he could to erase a past he’d stepped back into.
But Avery was safe, and he’d never regret that.
It was almost midnight by the time they’d sat down to eat. Andy had cooked while Avery, Mike and Jem utilized different computers, Jem and Mike searching for any trace of Gunner, while Avery answered e-mails from Dare and Grace so they wouldn’t worry.
She was starving and the food was delicious. Reminded her of how Gunner would cook for her.
“You should both stay here for now. Safer for all of us,” Mike told them as he gave her and Jem seconds.
He was right and Jem, who knew it too, said, “I’ve got to move my truck.”
Andy pushed his hand into his pocket and pulled out keys, tossed them at Jem. “I already put it into our garage and brought your bags in.”
Jem grunted. “Could still take you out, squid.”
Andy snorted and Mike looked over at her.
“Thank you,” she said. She’d been quiet after they’d talked some more about what Gunner was dealing with. She was trying to absorb everything, and it proved overwhelming. “I should call the hospital about Billie Jean—let her know we’re okay if she comes through. When she comes through,” she corrected.
“I’ll make sure she knows you’re okay,” Mike said. “I already checked with my contact from the hospital. She made it through surgery. Still critical, but they’re hopeful. She’s opened her eyes and she’s spoken to the police briefly.”
“What about his other ex-wives?” she asked, assuming that Mike and Andy knew about that too.
“I’ve got guys on both of them. One’s in Europe—hard to find. The other’s in Colorado. She’s staying with friends, being careful.”
“Good.” She finished the rice and beans and sausage, ate more fresh bread and finished her beer. Now that her stomach was full and she knew that Billie was okay, it was time to turn her mind back to Gunner and the rescue effort. “How do we bring a man back who doesn’t want to come back?”
“I’ve always found waterboarding to be pretty effective,” Jem said, then stopped when they all just stared at him. “Not what we were going for?”
Mike and Andy looked at each other and shrugged. “We were about to try it on you,” Andy told Jem.
“Not the worst idea I’ve heard,” Mike agreed, and Jem nodded sagely, as though he agreed with the fact that they’d been planning on torturing him.
She took a long drink of beer, then asked, “You think that’s really going to work on him?”
“I think it’s the only thing he’ll understand at this point,” Jem said.