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The Baby Favor by Chance Carter (122)

Chapter 28

Ryan

I wasn’t able to stop myself from coming, regardless of how much I needed to distance myself from Chanel. I’d openly told her that I was falling for her, and that I didn’t want to. I owed her an explanation.

I’d promised myself I wouldn’t care again because it would only end in pain. I was right about that.

“Come in,” Chanel said, and backed away from the door.

I hesitated, glanced past her at the carpet, the phone on the desk, and the quiet skies outside the window. Shepherd hadn’t left yet, but when he did there’d be an organized frenzy outside, soldiers preparing for the departure. It wouldn’t be the same when I left.

Chanel examined me, her heart-shaped face upturned. “Ryan?”

I walked into her quarters and shut the door behind myself. The heat of being close to her got to me, and I struggled not to retreat again. “I owe you an explanation and an apology.”

“Of all the things you owe me those two are the last,” she said, evenly.

Her eyes were red and puffy – it hurt knowing I’d caused it. I didn’t want her to break down because of me. I cleared my throat. “I told you I was falling for you,” I said, “and that was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have led you on.”

“Led me on?”

“Yes,” I said, “led you on. Nothing could ever have happened between us and it was wrong of me to let you believe that it was a possibility.”

“Trust me, you were clear all along that it was the last thing you wanted.”

She was bitter and there wasn’t anything I could say to change it, but I had to try.

I walked past her to the window and rested my knuckles on the sill. The sky allowed for watery sunlight, and a grouping of fluffy white clouds drifted across the endless blue. What it had to be like, that sense of aimlessness.

“I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“Then don’t do it,” she said. “Don’t leave me.”

“Chanel –”

“No,” she said, and came up behind me. She didn’t touch me, though she was close enough that her breath feathered across the base of my neck. “No, don’t give me that bullshit about leaving again. You know that you’re meant to be here. You care about the people on this base, otherwise why would you have wanted to have it redecorated?”

I bowed my head and stared at my white knuckles, willing my heart to stop beating a mile a fucking minute. Why did she do this to me? “I don’t have a choice. I have to leave.”

“But –”

“I have to leave,” I grunted, and spun around to face her again. God, she was close – I picked out the teardrop that clung to her eyelashes, and pictured smoothing fingers over her soft skin, tasting her lips and making the pain disappear.

“You don’t have to leave. This is a choice you’re making. I – even if you did leave… I could come with you?” She phrased it as a question and trembled, terrified of my judgment.

“No,” I said. “You don’t understand what it’s like to lose something you care about.” Flashes of pain and dust, grit, and screams. Blood. “I have to make tough decisions like this, and if I let you come with me it will only end in tears. What happens when I’m shipped out again, somewhere worse, somewhere more dangerous?”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You can’t follow me across the world. What happens when I’m deployed?”

“There are plenty of wives and girlfriends who stay behind,” she said, and squared her shoulders.

“I won’t let you have that life. I know what it’s like, moving from home to home, base to base. I know what it feels like to be uprooted. I’m a soldier. Do you know what that means?”

She opened her mouth, no doubt to lodge another complaint or rebuttal.

“It means I’m a tool.”

A frown, and she snapped her teeth together with a click.

“I do as I’m told and I go where I’m needed. Duty is a heavy burden to bear, but it’s one I will bear for this country to keep it safe.” To keep her safe too.

“You’re going to keep the country safe from Hawaii?” She raised an eyebrow, a hint of that sassiness showing again. I loved that about her.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I do understand,” she said, fiercely.

“No, you don’t. Don’t bother trying to convince me,” I replied, and waved a hand. “This was unbelievable. Being with you is a memory I’ll treasure. I have to leave, though, and there’s nothing that will change that. Orders are orders.”

“But –”

“Nothing will change,” I reiterated. I softened up despite my fear of caring and losing again. I let this woman into the personal space I’d walled off long ago, and it weakened me.

We stood inches apart, staring each other down.

“You’re so God damn stubborn,” she hissed, and anger flashed in her expression. “Why won’t you listen to me?”

“Because it’s an exercise in futility, ma’am,” I said.

“But I – we’re –”

“We had our fun,” I said, stiffly. If I had to hurt her to get her to back off… no, I didn’t want to hurt her. I couldn’t. “It’s over now, the fun is over. Duty calls. You got the contract, didn’t you?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line. Fierce and beautiful. I itched to kiss her again.

It was the strongest sensation, a tug behind my navel forcing me closer and closer, but I resisted it.

“Miss Scott?”

“Now, I’m Miss Scott?” she said. “So, that’s the way you’re going to play it? Put up a professional front like what we had was nothing but a few fucks on the base?”

“Keep your voice down.”

“Why? Are you that ashamed of what happened between us?” Chanel tapped her heel. “Oh, I know, I know, you stand to lose everything if they find out, right?”

My eyes widened.

“For fuck’s sake, don’t worry, I’m not going to out you to your superiors. I’m not a total creep.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I just think it’s ironic that you’re so dedicated to the military but you risked everything when you got together with me.”

I had, but I didn’t tell her why. It would only make the pain worse.

Chanel had changed my life. She’d helped me realize that I had the potential to be more than just that tool. Just when I thought maybe, just maybe, I could have more than this base and that profound sense of duty, the Commander offered me a swift kick to the ass and a wakeup call.

“It was a mistake,” I said.

Her eyelids fluttered and she lowered her gaze. “A mistake,” she whispered. “That’s all it was to you? A mistake? So, you lied when you said you felt something for me.”

“No, but I was irresponsible to say it when this was the only end it could reach,” I replied, evenly as I could manage. “I won’t let either of us fall because of what we did. I’ll leave and serve as I’m meant to. And you’ll – did you get the contract? You haven’t answered me, yet.”

She kept her head down, but her shoulders shook.

“Chanel,” I said, softly.

“I got the contract,” she said, at last, her voice quavered. “I got the damn contract, but my mother is closing the business because of it. There’s a petition in town to push out the base. An uproar.”

“They won’t succeed, and even if your mother closes the store, you can start your own one. You have the contract here, you can take the money you earn to start something of your own.”

She looked up then, but there wasn’t a hint of excitement in her. “Okay,” she said. “Whatever.”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To get away from your mother? That’s what it seemed like.”

“This was what I wanted,” she whispered, but it wasn’t really a confirmation, only an echo of my words. “This was what I wanted.”

“I have to go now.”

“When are you leaving?” she asked.

“Two weeks,” I replied.

Chanel straightened and blinked at me. “Two weeks?”

“And in those two weeks we’re not going to see much of each other. I’ll be busy here, prepping my predecessor. And I have to deal with Whitmore. Understand?”

She didn’t acknowledge what I said, but finally backed off. She walked to her desk, pulled the chair back and sat down, then drew the cellphone toward herself. She fiddled with it, opening up her messaging app.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt, Chanel.”

“Right,” she said. “That’s fine. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work here. I need to contact my suppliers and get started on the revamp for the base you’re abandoning.”

That stung, even though she had to know it wasn’t the truth. “I wish you all the best,” I said, formally.

“Same to you.” That came through gritted teeth.

I turned on my heel and marched from the room, leaving the door slightly open behind me. That had gone as terribly as expected, but at least I had a better handle on the situation. I had to leave my feelings for Chanel behind when I left. This was the first step to doing that.

I walked on confident that I’d made the right decision, but doubts crept in. I turned the corner and continued down the corridor, hesitated, started walking again, then stopped.

“Fuck.” Had I done the right thing? I was torn between duty and love, a first for me.

Footsteps approached from the far end of the gray passage and Petty Officer Jameson rounded the corner. “Good afternoon, Sir,” she said. “Are you well?”

“Jameson,” I said, and licked my lips. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Whitmore, right now?”

“No, Sir. Not according to the schedule,” she replied.

I’d written that schedule myself, and it was definitely her slot. “Then who’s with him?”

“I believe that Officer Wyatt is with him, Sir. That’s what I read on the timetable.”

“Officer Wyatt is off base collecting supplies, Jameson.” My heart sank into my stomach. How was this possible? Had Whitmore somehow managed to change the schedule? No, this had to be a clerical error.

Perhaps, the pressure had addled my mind and I’d made this rookie mistake. One that could cost me more than just rank. Whitmore was a damn maniac.

“Sir?”

“Walk with me, Jameson. We need to check Whitmore, now.” I led the path down the corridor, boots tapping on the tile. Jameson kept pace beside me, her jaw clenched.

She didn’t like this either, and I threw out my doubt. No way had I messed up that schedule. Someone changed it, and it had to be Whitmore’s involvement that led to that change.

We entered the passage leading up to his quarters. No guards outside. No guards inside. And no Whitmore.

“Christ,” I muttered. “Find him. Jameson. Full alert. Find him before he hurts someone else. And for God’s sake, try to keep panic to a minimum.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jameson said, and rushed out.

My intestines writhed like snakes, twisting, snapping at each other. Where was the first place Whitmore would go? My office? Perhaps, he’d seek me out for revenge. But then, he knew exactly where to go if he wanted to exact the worst revenge of all.

“Chanel,” I grunted, and sprinted for the hall.

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