SWINGING HIS LEG in a high arc, Drae kicked the heavy punching bag with all his might. It felt good to work off the tension with a sweat-pouring workout.
It had been three days since Lacey moved into his house. Three days he and Victoria played pretend as they waited for some sort of word about Cam.
After one night apart, when he’d slept on the uncomfortable sofa in the woodshop, she agreed it would only upset Lacey more if she knew they were separated, so she let him back in the house. With conditions.
Separated. The word left a disgusting taste in his mouth. How could he be separated from the person he loved and needed most in this world?
Her conditions weren’t a surprise. He could sleep on the floor for all she cared. With Lace upstairs in Stephanie’s Mom Mom suite, it wasn’t like he could hole up in a guest room. Would be too noticeable. So he acceded to her demand and curled up on a pile of blankets as far away from their bed as he could.
When people were around, he was to mind his manners. She’d never know how close he came to laughing his ass off at that.
And he wasn’t to touch her. Not if he wanted to keep his fingers.
He gave in to whatever she wanted. Finding out Lacey was pregnant was a wake-up call that only got louder when he learned his mother-in-law was also in the family way. Victoria’s reaction shook something loose inside him.
He’d fucked up. Of course, he had. He was a St. John, for Christ’s sake. Every single goddamn instinct he had about women was wrong. You’d think he’d have taken that small fact into account before now.
Drae made good use of his wife’s cold avoidance by using that time to research everything he could about PPD. The pamphlet she left on the kitchen table was quite informative. In his estimation, Victoria had a solid ten out of fifteen symptoms. Jesus. Why hadn’t he known about this shit earlier?
Punching away as perspiration poured off his body, he thought about what not knowing had cost. For both of them. She’d been suffering in confused silence, and he’d been trying to fix something he didn’t understand. The end result was chaos and a series of disastrous decisions leading them to their current state of impasse.
Until he saw the anguish on Victoria’s face when Lacey’s pregnancy was announced, he truly believed she’d been serious about not wanting another baby.
For a guy who was supposed to have his shit together, he’d made quite an epic mess of things.
“You kill that thing yet?”
Alex.
Took him long enough, Drae thought.
“Damn thing has nine lives.”
“Maybe you should borrow a few.”
After executing a series of martial arts moves, he stepped back from the bag and looked his friend over while removing his hand wraps.
“Any news?”
Alex sneered. “No news is good news, right? How’s Lacey?”
“Eh. You know her. That girl is tough as nails. Overheard her explaining to Victoria that staying strong is all she knows. Said Cam needed to count on her not to fall apart so he could focus on keeping safe and not how she was doing.”
“Smart girl.”
He grunted his agreement. “Surrounded by smart women.”
“Oh, thank god,” Alex muttered. “I’m taking that as an opening and jumping in. Don’t feel like standing around waiting for you to mention your wife. Got one of my own to worry about.”
“Aw, please don’t.”
“Suck my balls, St. John, and then tell me why Tori sounds like a sighing machine and your mother-in-law thinks you’re cheating.”
“You know you’re overstepping, right?”
“As if. I’m serious, man. Tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help.”
Drae sat heavily on a weight bench and put his face in his hands. “Can you fix stupid, Major? ‘Cause I screwed the pooch this time.”
“Hey,” Alex murmured, “it’s gonna be okay. You two are never gonna win a communication trophy, that’s for damn sure. But there’s real love there, Drae. And that sort of love is hard to kill.”
He looked at his old commanding officer and felt a glimmer of hope.
“Ya think?”
Alex snorted out a gruff chuckle. “I know. When Meghan and I broke up, I thought my life was over. But we figured it out, didn’t we?”
Drae nodded. His mind started ticking.
“Took all of our friends, all of Family Justice, to bring us together, but fuck man. Look at us now. And Drae,” Alex said solemnly with a hand on his shoulder, “what we learned from that horrible estrangement was how much we loved each other.”
“She threw me out,” he admitted when Alex moved his hand.
“What did you do? And don’t make that innocent face and act like St. John shit doesn’t stink.”
With a grimace, he said, “In this case, it’s what she thinks I did.”
Alex wasn’t one to mince words. “Did you cheat on your wife?”
He cold-eye stared at him. “Absolutely not.”
“Then what’s with the Flagstaff trips and the sudden desire to drive the Lamborghini. Dude,” he bit out, “you can’t be so stupid that you don’t see how it looks.”
“I’ll tell you, but I swear to god, Alex, if you interfere, I’ll kick your ass.”
“Fair enough.”
“Better sit down. You’re gonna want some wood to grab onto when I tell you just how stupid I am.”
Picking up his water bottle, he squirted a long stream into his mouth, hit the spout with his hand to close it, and dropped it on the floor again.
Alex spoke first. “You should know that Tori told me about the postpartum issue, and she defended you, Drae. Seemed to me like she knew shit was fucked up and wanted to own some of the reason why.”
“Man,” he muttered angrily. “You don’t fucking know how much I wish we’d known about the depression from the beginning. So much would be different.”
“Well, you know now. I hope it makes a difference.”
“You and me both.” He sighed. “I think we lost our way before Daniel was even born. Neither one of us knew how to handle a difficult pregnancy. A doctor with half a clue woulda helped.”
“Oh, by the way,” Alex informed him dryly. “I’m taking notes. You and Cam, Calder too, for that matter, are my canaries in the coal mine. First note? A doctor who understands my wife’s unique holistic perspective. Continue.”
“And then afterward … well, shit. What the fuck does any guy really understand about what his wife’s body, mind, and emotions go through? I’m a clueless motherfucker. Always was, always will be. Cam was no help. Lacey waltzed through Dylan’s pregnancy and birth like a Disney princess.”
“Think the playing field got leveled, don’t you? Part of me wants to smack him when he gets back—for keeping quiet about the miscarriage.”
Drae agreed with a quick nod. “Everything went to shit for us big time before the wedding. We rarely slept in the same bed, and when we did, well … you can imagine. I tried everything, Alex. Swear to god. Got it into my head that, uh …” He hemmed and hawed as discomfort gnawed at his gut. “Oh shit, I can’t believe I’m gonna say this out loud, but if I don’t, you won’t understand.”
“Whatever you say stays here, okay?”
He took a deep breath and let the words fall from his mouth. “I blamed myself. For the sex. Felt like a pig for wanting her so badly. Alex, ugh,” he groaned. “Sometimes, she’d cry. Like while we were doing it.” He shuddered at the memories.
“So I tried cooling it and then she’d cry even more. It got so bad I started mapping out ways to avoid intimacy. All of this shit was like Chinese water torture. Drip by drip, we drifted further apart. I became obsessed with never putting her through anything like Daniel’s birth ever again. She suffered and changed, and I could see how upset she was.”
“And this is why you should have said something, Drae. I’m right in guessing you started making unilateral decisions hoping to reach a status quo, aren’t I?”
“Yeah. I love Daniel. I mean, holy shit, I’m a father, and my son is like the best thing, next to my wife, that’s ever happened to me. Having a dozen more rugrats would suit me just fine. But Victoria wasn’t cut out for making babies.”
“Oh, Jesus. Did some asshole doctor actually say that?”
“Not really but that’s how I felt. So …” He cleared his throat and winced. “So I decided no more kids. Not that way. If she wanted more, maybe we’d adopt. Or find a surrogate. I didn’t think it through. All I knew was I couldn’t put my wife through that again.”
“Did Tori know this is how you felt?”
He smirked. “We didn’t win the communication award, remember?”
“Oh, right, right.”
“Unfortunately, she interpreted any sort of protection as a slap in the face. Did she tell me this? No. And then, well, shit started coming to a head. She pushed all my buttons—you know how good she is at that. We start making up for lost time. It all seemed good and then I don’t even know what happened. The PPD played a part, I suppose. She was like an umbrella. Up. Down. Open. Close. I couldn’t keep up. That’s when I lost my fucking mind and decided to take matters into my own hands.”
“Carol?”
Stink eye was absolutely necessary so he threw some Alex’s way. “Fucking gossips.”
“Those fucking gossips are only worried about you both, Drae.”
“Well, the gossips were gathered round the trunk of the wrong tree. What y’all assumed was me being a dog is actually a guy named Stan Carol. Met him on a security assignment. He’s a doctor.”
“What kind of doctor? You mean like a therapist? Were you secretly seeing a marriage counselor?”
“He’s a urologist.”
“Oh my god, Drae!” Alex barked. “What have you done?”
He didn’t want to admit how stupid he was—not that he had a choice.
“I went to Stan to have a vasectomy.”
Alex jumped up and surprised Drae by grabbing his throat and pulling him off the bench. Fury was rolling off him in thick waves.
“Are you insane?”
Releasing him, the Major started pacing back and forth. “St. John, a vasectomy is a fuck ton more than screwing the pooch. If I were your wife, I’d cut you off without another word.”
“And she more or less has.”
“She knows?”
“Yeah. I told her.”
A heavy silence settled over them. “Alex. There’s more.”
They’d been through a lot together, but he’d never seen his friend wear the expression he had now.
“Please tell me there’s some light in this tunnel.”
“Right before I made the decision, Victoria announced she didn’t think we should have another baby. Hearing her say the words gutted me. I know now that was the depression talking, but at the time, I really thought that was how she felt. So I made the appointment. By the way,” he interjected in his own story. “The reason for driving the Lamborghini was because Stan offered to buy it.”
“Still waiting on the light …”
“Alex. When the time came, I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t go through with it for my own selfish pig reasons. It killed me to hear her say no more kids, but I just couldn’t. Thinking about the D-Man brought it all home. The truth is I want a bunch more kids. And I want them with Victoria. So when she confronted me, I told her what I had planned to do. Pointed out that she said she didn’t want more kids. Gave her an opportunity to shoot it down. She threw me out instead.”
“Hold up,” Alex drawled in that insufferable way he has when he’s about to point out what an asshat Drae could be. “Are you saying you didn’t go through with the procedure, and she doesn’t know it?”
Was an answer really necessary? The tinge of amusement hanging off the edge of the question told Drae that his friend already knew the answer.
Laughing, Alex slapped him on the back. “Holy fuck, St. John. How is it possible that you have the ladies’ man reputation when the truth is you couldn’t find a trail out of your own ass with a map, two compasses, and a handheld GPS?”
“Hardy, har, har. Yeah. Real funny.” He scowled at his friend and said nothing.
“Well, you sorry fuck. Did you at least get rid of that pretentious pussy magnet masquerading as a sports car?”
Drae laughed. “Yeah. Cash. Got way over book value too. Gotta remember to thank Remy for getting the car showroom ready.”
“Dude,” the Major drawled. “My suggestion? Take that money and blow Tori’s flip-flops off with it. She must want something.”
He thought about it for a minute, until a scene worthy of his wife came to mind.
“Feel a family outing coming up. Pete’s. Have something in mind.”
Curious why Alex barked out a laugh that sounded angry, he only had to wait for the man to comment to understand the reaction.
“And you think you’ve got problems? My wife’s little brother set a match to her childhood memories, proved that sibling rivalry is alive and well in this century, and lobbed a grenade you aren’t going to fucking believe. You ready to shit right here on the floor?”
Drae snorted derisively. “Go for it, man. Especially if it deflects attention away from me.”
“This’ll do it. Appears old Pete decided it was time to retire.”
“No way.”
“Wait for it, man. It gets better. Sold the business.”
“Uh …”
“To Finn and Barry. The tattooed guy running the bar.”
“Aw, come on.” He chuckled. “Get serious.”
Alex just looked at him.
“Oh, my god. You ARE serious. That little putz Finn O’Brien owns our watering hole?”
“Yeah, he does, and your little putz attitude is a good part of the reason why. Didn’t win any new fans for Justice with him.”
“Whatever,” Drae muttered darkly. “And besides, he’ll come back with his tail between his legs. Count on it.”
Alex cocked his head and looked at him. “What do you know?”
“Me and my wife aren’t all there is to gossip about.” Drae smirked and rolled a shoulder. “We’re old news compared to a certain transportation director and her shockingly pithy dislike of young Finn.”
“We talking about Remington Bisset?”
“One and the same, big guy. It’s early days, but word around the compound is that those two snarl, hiss, and claw a little too much to be disinterested. You don’t know the lady, but take my word for it—she’s one hundred and ten percent Justice, one hundred percent of the time. Have to get the details from Cam, but I’m assuming the military did her dirty in the end, so for her, Justice is a life raft. If Finn wants the hard-ass ex-pilot, he’s gonna have to be Justice compliant.”
Justice compliant. God, that was funny.