Ginny stared out the window of Brogan’s old truck as they rumbled over the gravel and sand driveway, stopping at a small beach house. Neither spoke as they sat in the cab, the sound of the surf crashing upon the sand in the distance, the only noise.

Finally, Brogan reached over and placed his hand on hers and said, “Wanna take a walk?”

Nodding in reply, she opened her door and hopped out, meeting him at the front. He held her gaze and said, “I’d really like to open the door for you when we’re out together…that’s how my Mama and Grandmama taught me. But, I get you’re kinda…uh…raw right now. But maybe in the future…”

Silently, she nodded again, touched by the vulnerability she saw in his eyes.

They crossed the dunes in silence, Brogan’s fingers twitching to comfort her. Battling with himself, he finally reached over and grabbed her hand as they began walking along the stretch of beach. Nervous, he let out a long breath as she moved her fingers so they were linked with his. Right…it felt right. Recognizing she needed time to process the morning’s events, his lips curved slightly at the corners just knowing she chose to be with him.

After a few minutes, he moved to sit down on the sand, gently pulling her down next to him. They watched the seagulls flying about, occasionally diving into the surf before rising out with a fish in their beaks.

“I was naïve,” she began, her words breaking the quiet.

He turned to look at her but she kept her eyes on the bay, so he followed suit and faced the water again.

Licking her lips, Ginny said, “My dad was Army. My grandfather was Army. Both career…stayed in thirty years before retiring. My brother joined the Navy after college and became a pilot. My mom was a true, red-white-and-blue Army wife. Packed us up every move, handled life when Dad was deployed, and when Dad said, ‘Jump’, she asked ‘How high?’”

She looked down at their linked fingers and realized it had been a long time since she sat with a man like this. Somehow, that small gesture touched her heart. Sighing, she continued, “I never considered any other career than the military. I planned on college, but when I was in high school, my brother was killed in a plane crash.” She felt the involuntary squeeze of his fingers, but plunged ahead, “I joined the Army as soon as I graduated from high school and made it to the Military Police. I think I just wanted to do something that made me feel close to my family and make my dad proud.”

“And was he?”

Nodding, she said, “Yeah. He never saw any reason for me to go to college and when I graduated from basic training and from my MOS school, it was the proudest I’ve ever seen him be of me.”

The surf continued its undulations, washing up on the shore and then back out to sea, as they sat, each to their own thoughts.

“I liked the Army…I like the job I did. It felt important and I was good at it. I was deployed to Afghanistan…to Kandahar. I was mostly on patrol or on gate duty, searching incoming vehicles for bombs.” Seeing him in her peripheral vision as he nodded, she added, “I guess you spent some time there too.”

Another nod was her answer and she continued. “I thought I understood people. The military is mostly men, especially over there. But I was treated with respect. Got along great with the others in my squad and platoon. There were only a few of us women in the MP, but we worked just as hard as the men. We worked hard, played hard, and had each others’ backs.”

Turning toward him, her voice imploring, she said, “That was the most important thing over there—having each others’ backs. That could be the difference between making it out alive or coming home in a body bag.”

At the pleading look in her eyes, he nodded his agreement. “You’re right. Having the backs of your squad could make all the difference.” He watched as her lips pinched and, with a quick, jerking nod, she faced the bay again. “I take it, someone broke that trust?”

Blowing out a long breath, she nodded. “Yeah…a lot of someones.”

Brogan gave her time to gather her thoughts, not wanting to rush her story, but could feel his anger building. A slow ember began in his stomach and spread outward, wanting to pound anyone who had ever hurt her. The thought that it was fellow soldiers, made his vision blur. Careful to keep his breathing steady, he sat quietly.

“It seemed some of our platoon thought it was funny to rig up cameras in the women’s shower—”

Ginny felt the immediate tension radiating from Brogan’s body next to hers. She halted, uncertain if she should continue.

“Go on,” his low voice growled, then he added, “Please.”

Clearing her throat, she said, “It went on for a few weeks. Not just the shower I used, but several of the women’s showers.” With her eyes closed tightly, she relived the memory of when she first found out and her pulse raced. Willing it to slow, she said, “Come to find out, the cameras had actually been placed there by a woman who agreed to do it for the men. The pictures and videos began to circulate and it took a little while for us to find out. By then, there was a dedicated website where the photographs ended up.”

Looking at their linked fingers, she slid hers back into her lap, wiping her sweaty palms on her jean shorts. “At first, it was hard to get anyone to take our complaint seriously. Our sergeant blew us off…of course, we later found out he was just as guilty as anyone else. We kept going up the chain, trying to get someone to listen to us. I took the lead in ferreting out the guilty ones, but by that time I had alienated almost everyone on my squad. The whole dining facility would silence as I walked in. My bunk was wrecked more times than I can remember. The picture of my brother was stolen.” With that admission, her voice hitched as she battled tears, but she plunged forward, afraid that if she stopped the story, she might never be brave enough to face him again.

“I was called in and reprimanded for stirring up trouble. I was told that men will just be men and that this was normal behavior. That they were just blowing off steam and needed the diversion. I was told I was making a mountain out of a molehill. I was threatened…even received a note threatening me with sexual assault if I did not quit making a stink.” Snorting, she shook her head. “My body, and the bodies of many women, were plastered all over the Internet, and I was making a stink.”

“Oh, fuck, Ginny,” Brogan breathed, no longer willing to sit by, not speaking. He wrapped his arm across her shoulders and pulled her into his side, kissing the top of her head. “Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“It got so bad that some of the other women begged me to drop it. Let it go. They just wanted to forget, said my attempt to get retribution was making it hard for them. So, in the end, I had few friends.”

Sighing, she continued, “It finally took one of the other women, an officer, to be exact, who had connections way up, to get the lid blown off the situation. It hit the news back in the States and suddenly it couldn’t be shoved under the carpet anymore. A bunch of fellow soldiers were now facing charges. Some were arrested, some were dishonorably discharged, some received reprimands, and some escaped censure. All in all, it was a fucking mess and I seemed to be at the center. I was sent home to a base in the states to finish out my last months of service, for my own protection, but everyone knew. I went from wanting a career in the Army to only serving one tour and then getting the hell out.”

“Where did you go?”

Another snort escaped as she confessed, “I made the huge mistake of going home.”

Now that she was leaning against his chest, he could not see her face. Needing to peer into her eyes, he pulled back slightly as he craned his head to see her expression. She looked up, her dark eyes full of sadness, sending a sharp stab of pain to his heart. “Why was that a mistake?”

“Because I was a failure.”

“Failure? Ginny, honey, you’re not a failure. You’re a goddamn hero,” he growled, his voice rough with emotion.

Ginny stared at him for a moment, realizing that Brogan calling her honey only slid warmth through her, unlike when James said it. With James, it was a throwaway, meant to placate, but with Brogan’s gravelly words that sent shivers of pleasure down her spine, she felt the endearment and wished they were talking about anything other than what they were.

“From my father’s perspective, I was a complete and total failure. He met me at the door and said I had one week to find a new job and move on. In no uncertain terms, he labeled me a disgrace to the military and to our family.” Swallowing hard, she added, “He even said that if God had been merciful, my brother would be living and I would be the one with the honorable death in combat.”

“Oh, fuckin’ hell, no!” Brogan exploded, his body vibrating with anger.

Ginny watched in fascination as this large man vibrated in rage for her. He jostled her as he jumped up and stalked a few feet away, his hands on his hips with his legs planted apart, staring at the bay. She stayed silent for a few minutes, waiting to see what he would do. Swallowing audibly, she sat staring at his broad back, the muscles in his body taut.

Brogan stared out, not seeing the beauty of the beach, his eyes only filled with the ugliness of her words. Family was everything—at least to a MacFarlane. Dropping his chin to his chest, he felt the sting near his heart once more.

Whirling around, with surprising agility for such a large man, Ginny watched in fascination as Brogan’s blue eyes pinned her to the spot. “No fuckin way, Ginny, did your family turn against you. No fuckin’ way.” His voice was so shattered as to how family could turn their backs on a daughter, his anguish evident.

Standing, she brushed the sand from the seat of her shorts before walking toward him, only stopping when her toes were right at his. Not touching him, she lifted her head and looked in his eyes. “I left home the next day. My parents have not been in touch for the past five years. I moved in with some people I found on Craig’s List who needed a roommate and, with my Army college fund, I got my degree in Police Science. Finished it in three years even with working almost full time. I’ve been here for the past two years. Never looked back…not at the Army and not at my family.”

“What about the American Legion? Isn’t that a constant reminder?”

“I wondered about that,” she admitted, still holding his gaze. Shrugging, she said, “I met a lot of really great people in the Army. I got close to the other women who refused to give up the fight.” Seeing his confusion, she added, “Yeah, some of the women were scared and decided to drop the pursuit of justice. But, there was a small group of us that kept fighting until we won.”

“You should have been fighting the enemy,” Brogan said, his voice still laced with rage, “not your own platoon.”

She agreed, but knew no words were necessary, so she just continued to hold his eyes, refusing to look away. If he held censure there, she wanted to see it. But, all she saw was concern.

Brogan slowly lifted his hands and placed them gently on her shoulders, drawing her forward until her face planted into his chest and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight. His mind filled with his own memories of a good platoon, a good squad, but he also knew his share of assholes, some hiding behind rank. The idea of Ginny facing the abuse that had been heaped on her rocked him and he locked his knees to keep from falling to the ground, taking her with him. “God, you’re the bravest woman I know.”

Ginny kept her face buried as she felt the softness of his t-shirt against her cheek and the strength of his heartbeat pounding against her ear. Her arms curved around his waist, the breadth of him wide enough that her hands barely clasped. It had been a long time since she had been enveloped in a man’s embrace and she wanted to curl up with him, warm and cocooned from the outside world. His scent filled her nostrils as she breathed him in deeply.

Reality quickly crashed in upon her—there was one more story to tell. And this one might make the difference to the man holding her in his arms. Leaning her head back again, she said, “There’s something else. Something else that happened.”

Brogan peered into her eyes, the unknown depths staring back. He felt, as well as heard, her quickened breath as she moved out of his arms and stood a few feet away. Ice cold water flowed through his veins as he waited, unmoving, willing some of his strength to go her way.

Sucking in a deep breath, she plunged ahead before she lost her courage. “I was assaulted…not raped…but assaulted by a fellow service member. He came in when I was sleeping…pinned me to my bunk…and pressed his erection against me. He wore a mask, but I recognized him. His eyes were greenish-brown and he had a little scar through his eyebrow. So even though he thought he was hidden, I knew who he was. He squeezed my breasts as he rubbed himself on me and told me that if I ever told anyone, he’d kill me.”

“Jesus, Ginny,” Brogan ground out, his heart aching for her and yet uncertain how to help.

She turned, facing him, the sea breeze whipping her dark hair about her head, a storm beginning to form in the distant sky. “I need you to know before you speak too highly of me…I never told anyone about what he did. I was so tired of it all…ready to be discharged…so demoralized…I simply could not fight one more fight.”

His eyebrows lowered, as his jaw hardened to steel. “What makes you think I wouldn’t speak highly of you?”

Swallowing back a sob, she said, “Because I gave up. I knew who he was and I never said anything. I was a cop, even in the Army. I should have stopped him. Now, for all I know, he’s still out there, assaulting women, and I was a chicken-shit who did nothing.”

Brogan reached out once more and pulled her sobbing body into his, cradling the back of her head with his large hand, while his other arm banded around her back. Feeling her shake against him, he felt as though they were still not close enough. Bending, he scooped her into his arms, stalking through the wind over the dune, not stopping until he landed on the front porch of his weather-beaten house. Bending, he threw open the door, kicking it shut behind them with his shoe.

Already having made up his mind, he continued to stalk down the short hall, passing the one bathroom and entering his bedroom. His bed was unmade, but clean, and he lowered her onto the mattress, following right along with her. Pulling up the covers, he wrapped his entire body around hers, forming a cocoon that he hoped protected her from the memories of the past.

Holding her, pressed against his chest, making soothing noises, he felt her sobs subside and her breathing even out as sleep claimed her. Lying in his bed with her in his arms, the tightness in his chest finally eased.