Set her free
Mack
Who would have thought that he’d end up working in the rehab facility as part of his own rehab! Once he was diagnosed with PTSD, a new chapter of support opened up, including his options for staying in the Army and work through his physical limitations.
The counsellor had the crazy idea that it was important to Mack’s “sense of self” to feel needed. One session showing a newbie the ropes around the gym turned into helping out before each of his own sessions.
Nothing structured or planned, but it gave him something to look forward to. He even started documenting how to vary each approach based on the physical limitations of each soldier. Most of them were younger and in a worse head space than he was, full of self pity and anger. He recognized the signs and even though he didn’t know how to help himself, it seemed easier to get inside their head to listen.
Now he was going through the process of getting the Army to recognize all his prior learning and start converting it into formal fitness training certification. The staff seemed to accept his dual role as stubborn patient who was not patient, and uncompromising fitness trainer who suffered no excuses. In fact, being a patient and volunteer only made his bullshit excuses fall on deaf ears and would probably result in an extra set or two of reps added to his session.
A couple of months away from his unit and base and the world seemed a different place, full of opportunity and hope. He was still pushing his own boundaries, had mastered the wheelchair and living independently. There were days he thought that he could even stand, in a brace and insisted on punishing sessions to keep as much of his leg muscles as possible.
Healing was a full-time job which would have been easier if Xanthe was working with him, but harder if she hadn’t been in his life.
Anyone could yell encouragement, demand his best and motivate him to push through another set. No one could make him laugh, like Xanthe. If he could pick the three things he loved the most, it was her eyes, her legs and her ability to make him laugh at himself and life. She was the only one who could stop him before he hit the darkness, not that they ever talked about it. They didn’t have to, she knew.
He wanted her as his OT, but there was no convincing anyone that she could be anything other than his partner. Some partner, half the time she was at work and even though he spent most nights at her place, he was still reliant on her for transport and there was no official living together status box ticked on any of their forms.
Mack needed her desperately and hated in equal measure his dependency. If only he was still the man he used to be, he’d know in his heart whether the love he had was for Xanthe the woman who could light up his world by walking into a room, or whether he loved the fact that she was there.
Xanthe
There was never going to be a good time to tell him, but there was also no avoiding it.
The last time they tried to call her up north to back-fill behind her replacement, she declined and got Mack’s counsellor to support her request. Not only did she have a full caseload in Brisbane, but Mack’s diagnosis of PTSD was still new and he needed her support. His parents had taken his injury as reason to extend their posting to France and his sister had her own family in Germany. She was all he had, other than the Reapers and half the time no one knew where they were.
After giving him a heads up that she was almost finished for the day, she returned to her office at the far end of the complex.
The results of her latest protocol had been so impressive that the powers that be wanted her to go back to Townsville and implement the early intervention aspects. She didn’t care about handing over her work to others, but this time they were quite insistent that she was needed for one month to document all the processes and fill in while her replacement was recovering from a motorbike accident.
“Ready?” she looked at the text. In truth, she could spend another two hours on paperwork, finalizing all the reports to hand over to the staff who would be sharing her cases for the month. Possibly a day or two in the office avoiding her boyfriend.
“10,” she replied, knowing he’d be waiting outside in the ten minutes it would take her to close down, get her car and pick him up out the front. It had taken every string the Army could pull, but she got a second hand SUV converted to carry a wheelchair within a couple of weeks of arriving in Brisbane. What it meant was that without her, Mack’s independence away from the facility would vanish.
“It will be good for him, he’s got to learn how to drive again sometime,” Dr Hunter batted back the last card she had to play. “Don’t underestimate how much his reliance on you fuels his depression.”
“He’s not ready.”
“Xanthe Davies, you would be the first to call out a patient’s family for enabling dependence. Don’t fall into the trap.”
“I’m not,” she was and she knew it.
Mack had never lost his charm and without the chair, women were still drawn to him. She watched the lip licking and hair twirling as they tried to get his attention. It took all her own composure not to go around the back of his chair to push it as a sign of her dominance over him, and them.
It was petty, pathetic and everything Dr Hunter was warning her about.
“Okay, even if I am, a little, isn’t it drastic to come back up there for a month. I mean, what if he really does need me.”
“What if he doesn’t. Don’t you want to know the difference between want and need?”
“When do I start?”
“Monday. Have you still got your old car?”
“No, I got rid of it to buy this one.”
“Your choice whether you drive or fly. We can put you up on base for the month, there’s some share accommodation. I know once you get up here the girls will look after you and make sure you can get into town.”
“I haven’t told him, not even that there was a possibility of me coming up.”
“Xanthe!” he admonished. “Oh, well, it’s your life and if you think springing this on him is the way to go, I can’t argue. Don’t expect him to take it well, but remind him that he can either fight you over it or accept and enjoy the last weekend before you leave.”
“I’m not going to get any time off to come back and see him, am I?”
“Not at all, Xanthe, these boys need all of us. Mack’s got a team looking after him. These boys need you.”
Mack
He was getting better at transferring to the car and getting the chair sorted on his own. Perhaps he could restart the process of getting his own car, but that would mean checking out what models could be reconfigured to hand controls.
Instead of the fastest, sportiest chick-magnet, he’d be looking at a sensible car with a permanent disability sticker.
No, he couldn’t do it, not yet.
“Hey babe,” he started but Xanthe’s hello kiss was not her normal greeting. “Wanna talk about it?”
“You’ve never taken me out for dinner,” so distracted, only sharp braking stopped her from turning into another car.
“Are you really gonna kill us because I’ve never taken you out?”
“Sorry, it’s just you promised to take me out on our first date, and we never have. We met, hung out, almost slept together, now we might as well be living together and we’ve never had a first date.”
Where the hell had this come from?
“Is this about dating,” the pit in his gut told him it was more serious.
It was only a fifteen-minute drive to her townhouse, but it felt like forever in silence. Xanthe lost in whatever screwed up thoughts made her bring up the long forgotten promise of a first date.
Mack, trying to think about all the things that could be her real problem. Stuck in a life with a cripple? Her career now linked to whatever rehab facility would take him? No social life and no kids? Hell, he could write the list himself and it had nothing to do with a first date.
“Salmon and chips?” she asked, opening the door for him. He hated the simple logic of her having the car keys and getting to the door before he even organized the chair to give him back his legs, so to speak. There was no opportunity for him to do the normal things like take in the groceries, or get to the clothes drier before she had done them all. Less than ten minutes, and yet another thing to make him feel less like a man and more like a child.
“How about you sit down, pour us both a glass of wine and dinner is on me,” he turned on the oven and checked the fridge. “I can even make a mean salad instead of the chips if you want.”
“Fine,” the tapping of her fingernails on the wine glass told him differently.
Half an hour later and he wheeled in two plates on the TV dinner tray that had been a lifesaver. Balanced over his legs, he could carry most things easily between rooms. Remove the tray, and he could ferry Xanthe where ever she wanted to go.
“So, where do you want to go on this first date?” He might as well jump into the deep end.
“I was being silly. I’ve had something on my mind all day, I don’t know how to tell you so I pulled a bitch act and started focusing on all the things we haven’t done that most couples do.”
“Like walking hand in hand.”
“Been there, done that on the beach, remember?”
“Make up sex?”
“I think we’ve done that once or twice,” she laughed. “Although it might get harder long distance.”
Silently, she topped up their drinks, looking for a reaction.
Instead, his military training kicked in, slowing his breathing and patiently waiting for more information.
“The new protocol I told you about, well they want me to go back on base and implement it as an early intervention program with a batch of guys that have just come back from Kandahar. Dr Hunter thinks that it can help speed their recovery and in any case, Steiner who replaced me decided to get knocked off his motorbike and will be off work for a month.”
“When do you leave?” there was no point in fighting. The Army needed her, other soldiers needed her. What was his wanting Xanthe compared with others’ needs.
“I start Monday. There’s a transport that can pick me up from work and still get me there before midday. We’ll still have Sunday night, and I’ll leave my car at work.”
“For how long,” he could suck it up for a day or two.
He knew when she cleared the empty plates from the table, it was going to be longer.
“A month.”
“Fuck,” she picked up his glass before it was going to end up on the floor. “How long have you known?”
“I found out today.”
“Really, you sent off the protocol today and they called you right back with the posting arrangements?”
“You know that I was here on a handshake arrangement. If they want me back on base, I have to go. I was able to get out of it before but this time, they are insisting.”
“What do you mean, before!” he yelled.
The more she swallowed and bit her lip, the harder he knew the decision had been. “This is the third time they’ve wanted me back.”
“Why didn’t you go before.”
He tried not to see her shaking, he wanted the truth and damn it, she owed it to him. “I asked you why did you stay here the other two times.”
“You needed me here.”
If only she had said she wanted to be with him, that she loved him too much to leave, but no it was about him needing her.
No, she had only stayed out of pity for her cripple boyfriend, the thoughts swirled and his anger and darkness threatened to spiral out of control, again.
“Take me back home,” he’d never caught a wheelchair taxi before and hoped she wouldn’t force him to start now.
“No,” she grabbed his phone out of reach.
“That’s not fair, actually it’s a real bitch thing to do. I need my phone.”
“No, you need to listen. I didn’t go last time because you had just started counselling and I wanted to be there with you, support you.”
“Bullshit, Xanth. You said it, you stayed because you thought I needed you. Well I don’t.”
“Great to hear.”
“What?”
“I’m going for a month, you don’t need me but it will give you a chance to see if you miss me, want me. For more than being your carer. Damn it, how do you think I feel? Every time I meet up with you for lunch some strange woman is at your table flirting with you.”
“I’m not interested in other women, I told you that.” He expected her to at least trust him a little by now. Even before this bloody accident he had given her his heart, promised there had been no others since they met. Despite his entire life of feeling unworthy of being loved, he’d put it all on the line for her and yet she couldn’t damn well see it. Or trust him.
“It doesn’t stop them from being interested in you. I end up feeling more like your carer instead of your lover. Most of the time they don’t even stop flirting until I bloody well climb into your lap.”
He’d never thought of it like that. “You know I don’t need a carer. I want a lover, more precisely I want you.”
“But those women …” she started before he cut her off.
“I’m not interested, I don’t encourage them. I promise you Xanth, I haven’t looked at another woman since I met you.”
“I want you to look at me because you want me, not because you need me.”
“You don’t have to leave me. I thought you liked me staying here, I thought the next step was talking about making things more permanent.”
“I didn’t want to go, I’ve tried everything to stay but this time I don’t have a choice. Quite frankly, it’s an amazing opportunity. Have you any idea what it’s like to only be a year qualified and important people are looking at my ideas and thinking they could make a difference?”
“I’m proud of you, really I am,” damn the chair, he could go to her, but she had to want to accept his arms. “Xanthe, I’m sorry. It wasn’t what I expected and when you said you only stayed because I needed you, well it triggered.”
“I don’t mind you needing me, but I’m terrified that once you don’t, you’ll go back to The Mack with a monkey to show.”
“I told you, you’re the last woman to see my monkey, in that way.”
Minutes of silence hang over them as he saw everything, the pain and fear and unwarranted jealousy in her eyes. His own softened, and without words they both gave way to the love and fear of what her leaving would mean, for both of them.
“Xanth, please. I’m so fucking sorry. You have to know how much you mean to me and it’s not just because of my legs. If I could have them back just for one day it would be to prove that I want you because I want you – not because I need you.”
He didn’t know what else to say. Trapped in the stupid chair, he had to wait for her to come to him. “Xanth, please.”
“Mack?” he could see she wanted to believe.
“I’ve never felt like this about another woman before, not ever. Please Xanth.”
“I stayed because I didn’t want to leave. But I couldn’t tell them that, not then and not know. Mack, I’ve run out of excuses but it’s a great opportunity.”
“Don’t say ‘no’, then. Not to them and not to me.”
“Mack, oh Mack,” she finally allowed to be pulled to his lap while his trusty kisses did their job.
They’d had make up sex before, two strong personalities were bound to clash.
This was different, they crossed a line towards commitment and that was something that couldn’t be ignored.
Returning her kisses as strong as he’d ever known, his hands up her skirt and her panties quickly removed.
“Bend over,” he pushed her towards the solid wooden table. He’d wanted to do this since they bought the dining suite. Wheeling under, he spread her legs either side of the chair, lifting her skirt and pulling her forward. Kissing up her inner thighs, he tested her readiness with his fingers.
“Xanth, it’s about time you learnt the difference between need and want. I ‘need’ to do this to satisfy you but I ‘want’ to do this because I need you to be satisfied.”
She had never tasted sweeter or moaned louder. Alternating between pulling his hair and grabbing the table as he brought her to the edge, only to go back to kissing her inner thighs before starting again.
“Please, do it now,” she cried out and even though he was ready to give her what she wanted, this needed to be a gift. His hands crept under her shirt and twisted her naked nipples while his tongue finished the job. Gently releasing her when her shudders subsided, before pulling her back to his lap.
“I want you, Xanth, but I need you to be happy.”
“It’s only a month.”
“I guess we’d better have that first date before you go.”
Xanthe
She must have checked her phone a thousand times. Unfortunately, it didn’t make the time go faster, or help her decide what to wear any easier.
The navy blue dress lay on the floor where she threw it in favour of the nude dress she had worn the night they met. It had got his attention once, perhaps it would again?
The curling wand had done wonders with her dark hair and the new charcoal eye-shadow made her eyes an even darker green. No, she picked up the navy dress and hung it next to the nude dress. Standing in her off white bra and panties, she discarded everything to start again.
At the bottom of an unpacked box was an old, red leather skirt. Draping it across her hips in front of the mirror, it was shorter than she normally wore. Completely different from the classic folds of their other first date. She smiled, at least tonight she was pretty sure it would end up sleeping together, with very little sleeping. Ignoring the price tags, she ripped them from a brand new black thong and brassiere. Intended for a different night, she was starting to pull together something special for tonight. Yes, the brassiere and skirt could work together, but matched with a long black jacket and she’d almost be respectable. The jacket barely covered the skirt and could pass as a dress. Seamed black stockings fixed to a garter belt and under black, thigh high boots and she was ready for whatever games Mack wanted to play!
“Ready for 1st date?” his text meant she didn’t have time to change her mind, again. She’d already assured him the one concession she would make for his mobility was not to insist he get out and knock on the door. A text would do.
He was in the backseat and greeted her with his specialty kiss.
“You look amazing,” he handed her a small box. “I thought about flowers but figured I didn’t want you to leave and put them in water.”
“Thank you,” memories of another box flooded back. As the taxi pulled away, she undid the black ribbon. Fumbling to open the box, she dared not even think.
“Here, let me,” he turned it over and released the flap.
She lost her breath, a yellow gold chain threaded through nine hearts, four with diamonds.
“I wanted to give you a monkey to remember me by,” he started. “I figured four of diamonds and nine of hearts would be easier to explain.”
“I love it, thank you,” she turned so he could place it around her neck. “So what other surprises have you got in store for me on this first date?”
“You’ll see.”
“Dinner was amazing!” as the waiter took away the dessert plates. Turkish meze for entre, lamb tangine for main and almond cake with orange drizzle cut through the bitterness of the strong coffee.
“I asked around and most of the café’s on the boardwalk are easy to access and if you say wheelchair friendly in the booking, well you get the best seat in the house.”
They had watched the sun go down behind the Brisbane river. Hours spent talking and laughing like any other couple on a first date, except they also had the history.
“Feel like going for a walk?” he asked after the waitress returned his credit card.
“If you think you can handle it,” she laughed with him. Some days he could joke about his legs, other times it was too difficult. Tonight, anything seemed possible.
She’d become used to holding his hand while he controlled his chair. It didn’t even feel strange anymore until she had to let him go to make room for other people on the path. The one thing she couldn’t get used to was people’s reactions to them as a couple. Anything from pity to avoidance, she only hoped he didn’t see them or at least let the looks brush over him.
“How about we see if we can get a room for the night,” he rolled up the driveway of one of the city’s finest hotels.
“I doubt they would have anything suitable,” she tried but too late as the concierge opened the doors to the large marble foyer.
“Lieutenant Mackenzie. It is a pleasure to host you and your partner tonight. Your bags are already in your room, but can I invite you to the piano bar for a complementary bottle of champagne?”
Completely speechless, Xanthe looked to the receptionist and back to Mack. She had no idea this was an overnight kind of date, at least in the city. With his wheelchair this needed planning. Serious planning.
Mack almost lost control of the chair on the steep ramp but regained control before she could react in her high heeled boots. A path to an empty table had already been cleared and as they were about to be seated, the piano player stopped to gain the attention of the room.
“Ladies and gentlemen we are privileged here tonight to welcome Lieutenant Mackenzie from the Australian Army and his date. You might notice that Lieutenant Mackenzie has brought his own transport. Six months ago he was injured in a skirmish that claimed the life of one friend and injured five others. Before he went on that mission, he had planned to take Miss Davies on their first date. It has taken overcoming more challenges that we can probably imagine, but I would like you to stand and show your respect for this, their first date.”
As the piano started the familiar chords, the crowd stood and started, “Australians all let us rejoice, for we are young and free.”
By the end of the first verse, Xanthe was standing with them, by the chorus she couldn’t sing through the tears. She had never truly experienced the patriotism of her own country, yes the song was sung at events and sporting fixtures. At almost every Defence parade there was a rendition.
Not in a restaurant, and not for her boyfriend.
After the applause finished, Mack raised his hand and the pianist offered him the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it has been my deepest honor to serve and on behalf of all the service men and women of all forces, I thank you for the respect you have shown us tonight. I promised this lovely lady a first date that was worth waiting six months for, and I thank you for making that possible.”
Xanthe didn’t notice all of the guests who had recorded the whole thing. Even if she did, she would never have appreciated the significance. All she cared was that they showed her man the respect of a nation.
And that Mack had delivered on his promise of a real first date.
Mack
He never expected that when he had made his special requests for a hotel room that catered to his physical needs, that the staff would go to such lengths to acknowledge his service and the other service men and women who were out there putting their bodies and lives on the line.
A wonderful dinner followed by a romantic bottle of champagne accompanied by piano, his first date with Xanthe had been perfect from start through to the ride up to their suite.
Several phone calls with explicit instructions and yet it all came down to trust. Did they truly understand what he had asked for, and were they able to deliver? Mack had stressed that price wasn’t a consideration, but while they were downstairs a text had come through assuring him that the whole evening and stay was complementary.
At no time had he ever considered himself a hero.
Not when he knew what true heroes looked like, hell, he had worked beside them day and night for years. Still, it was nice to be considered one of them. If that’s what it took to give Xanthe the perfect first date.
“So, soldier, what have you got for me tonight?” a slightly buzzed Xanthe lay across his lap in the elevator up to their room.
“What do you want?”
“I have you, that’s all I’ve ever wanted,” she rested her head on his shoulder as the floor levels kept climbing. He had no reason to disbelieve her, it’s all he wanted as well.
Mack shouldn’t have felt so proud at opening the hotel door as he did. He couldn’t remember the last time Xanthe hadn’t opened a door for him. Instead, being able to wheel her inside, relaxed in his arms was the greatest start to a night that he could imagine. Until she saw the black straps attached to a large brass hook above the bed.
“What the?”
“Obviously because I’m in a wheel chair, I needed a hoist,” he did a quick spin around the room, noting that all his requests had been fulfilled. A city view, spacious room for him to move around freely with his wheelchair, the swing above the bed and a shower chair that could easily fit two. Food, wine were all additional extras that made the hotel think they were pandering to his desires when it was the swing that would give him everything.
“You don’t need a hoist at home.”
“I love that you want me to call it home, but you know damned well that it is your place and I’m an invited guest,” he nibbled her ear. “Something we should talk about, but after our first date.”
“So, what’s it doing above our bed?”
He started unbuttoning her jacket, “Do you remember what I said if you ever wore something with more than three buttons?”
“You said you’d bite them off.”
“Please, pretty please, take off the jacket, I’ve wanted to know all night what you’ve got underneath.”
Slowly, she stood and while holding his gaze, undid the remaining five buttons. He caught a glimpse of the top of her stockings before she straightened the red skirt.
“Drop it,” it wasn’t a question.
Her jacket fell to the floor. He wheeled over to the bed and with a grace he didn’t even expect, transitioned onto the bed and pulled himself to underneath the hoist. He tried not to show the strength needed to pull himself into the swing harness.
“Wanna play?” he teased, opening his arms for whatever she wanted to do.
Xanthe carefully removed each heel before climbing to a stand on the bed in front of him. “How does this work?”
Fully balanced on the swing, he could almost imagine they were standing in front of each other. Pulling her towards him, he could hold her in his arms and kiss her the way he used to. Fully, passionately and without feeling like a cripple. His hands in the small of her back, he found the zipper to her skirt and released it to the bed so she was standing in her black latex bra, thong and stockings.
In his mind, he had imagined this moment, practiced it over again and thought he knew what to do, but having her made it all the more real and important to get right. He spun her around until her back was against the bedroom wall and the swing supported him against her.
“Are you ready?” he kissed her until she removed his shirt and went for his pants. Using all his strength, he lifted until his pants met hers on the floor. Balancing on the edge of the swing, they clung together as he slid between her thighs. Not quite there, but with the help of the swing, he had his lady where he wanted her.
All he needed to do was make sure she was satisfied.
Xanthe
Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine sex could be so, absolutely intoxicating!
Coming up to the room she expected a romantic night cap and making love in a strange room. Not the swing and not standing on a bed urging him to find her.
“Wait,” she had an idea, hooking one leg over the swing with him. All of a sudden, life made sense and he found her home. Using her weight, Mack took control of every thrust with such passion she was scared either the swing or bed would collapse. The harder he pushed her against the wall, the more erotic the feeling. She wanted to open more, inhale more of him.
This wasn’t the normal making love of regular couples.
This was hot, ferocious, carnal and pleasure seeking sex of lovers.
Even if he never understood, she loved Mack and hoped that by the time she returned home to him that he would love her more than he needed her in return.
“Swing on me, baby,” he lowered the hoist until she could straddle him with her feet lightly touching the bed. A gentle rocking until the unexpected shudder started at her toes and invaded her body.
As she came, Mack swung her against the wall and gently bit her nipples while teasing her bud. She wanted to stop but wouldn’t let him go. Not until she cried out his name and he released all his passion within her.
“I don’t think the landlord will let me install one of those,” she finally collapsed on the bed. “Although I can see the benefits for getting you out of bed in the morning.”
“Baby, the reason I can’t get out of bed is because usually, you’re still in it.”
“Not my fault when you’ve worn me out the night before.”
“I aim to please,” he handed her another strawberry from the complementary fruit platter.
“You always do.”
Catching their breath never usually took this long and she turned on the television. Mack was almost asleep when she asked, “Are you okay about me going back for a month?”
“Not really, but we don’t have a choice.”
“I mean,” she wanted to keep it light but with his reputation, she needed to be sure. “This is our first date and all, but …”
“Xanthe,” he pulled her closer. “I’m the one who should be worried. You go on base and there’s a thousand guys all fitter and more fuckable than me. I don’t want you coming back here and looking at me like I’m some pity-fuck that you’re stuck with.”
She laughed, “I don’t cheat, never have and never will.”
“No, but you could send me one of those ‘Dear John’ texts or emails so there’s at least half an hour break between me and the next guy.”
“I’m not like that,” she should be offended, but she had her own concerns. “You’re the one who never kept it zipped.”
“Xanthe, I promise you. You are the first woman I’ve ever been faithful to and the only woman I’ve ever wanted to be faithful for.”
She tried to hold those thoughts as they slept.
Mack
Date night had been everything he planned and even more. A late check out after another ride on the swing and he left the room feeling like a real man.
The concierge greeted them like lost friends and privately assured him that the room could be fitted with the hoist at any time should they like to return.
If he could have skipped through the foyer, he would have. Instead, while they were waiting for their taxi next to a family, his world came crashing down. Xanthe had ducked back inside and missed the whole conversation.
“There’s our taxi,” he heard the woman say to her partner.
“No, it’s a wheelchair one, let the cripple get it.”
“Shh, you can’t call him that,” her words would have meant something if they weren’t delivered with a giggle.
“What do you think she sees in him? I mean, did you see the girl? She’s young and not ugly.”
“She’s probably waiting to take half his payout, I mean, she’s too young to throw her life away with a man like that …”
“Stop it, she’s coming back and might hear you.”
“Do you think he paid her by the hour?”
“I said, stop it, you’re making me laugh and she might hear us.”
Did strangers really think that Xanthe was a hooker or a girlfriend only hanging around him for a payout?
He remembered the conversation all weekend instead of enjoying their last days together.
When Xanthe dropped him at the rehab facility on the Monday morning, he wondered what on earth would possess her to come back.
He had nothing to offer a woman like Xanthe.
Nothing at all.