"What did you guys do in the Marine Corps."
"We were part of MARSOC. It's a Special Forces command within the Marine Corps. We were trained to do a variety of things. We are like the equivalent of the Navy SEALs. Our mission this last tour was to patrol local villages, help to protect against the Taliban, try to negotiate with the Taliban and help further train their local police and military forces."
Paul's voice is low and melodic. I'm sitting on the edge of my seat, finally getting information that I had been hoping that one day Nix would tell me.
"One of the most dangerous aspects of our job was the threat of a 'green on blue' attack."
"What's that?"
"It's basically Afghani forces attacking NATO forces. It's usually people we are working closely with. Say, for example, we may be embedded in a local village for months. We work with the local police to help train them to protect the village. Unfortunately, many of them are secretly part of the Taliban. A 'green on blue' is when one of them attacks us."
That's horrible and beyond frightening. "How do you ever trust anyone?"
"You don't. You learn to look at everyone as if at any moment they can pull a gun on you. At any rate, that happened to us. One night on patrol, several of the Afghani police that we had been working with turned on us and opened fire. A vicious gun battle ensued and three of us got pinned down. Me, Nix and our buddy, Gary."
Paul picks up his beer and takes a swallow before he continues. I feel like I am on pins and needles, watching a scary movie and waiting for the monster to jump out and scare the living daylights out of me.
"We had to call in helicopter support to help us out, but the Taliban outnumbered us and were moving toward our position. We had no choice but to try to make our way to higher ground so we could be easily accessible when the helos came in. Unfortunately, all three of us had been hit. I had been shot in my right thigh and I'm pretty sure that the bullet had hit the bone because I couldn't put any weight on my leg. Gary, though, had taken one right in the stomach and was bleeding really bad. And Nix...he took one --"
I finished for him, " --to the chest."
Paul nods. "That's right. Luckily, the bullet he took was pretty high in his chest, going just below his shoulder. Quick in and out so he was still pretty mobile. At any rate, we had a quick discussion and it was decided that Nix would carry Gary out first while I laid cover fire. That worked nicely. Even though Nix had a bullet hole in him, he was able to carry Gary to safer ground where a helo landed right away. While they were tending to Gary, Nix came back to get me."
My heart is pounding. I'm fearful for Nix's life, even though I know he makes it out. "What happened next?"
"Nix came back, hauled my ass up over his shoulder and ran us out of there while I shot my 9mm pistol at them...hanging practically upside down on his back. I think I was giving sort of a Braveheart scream the entire time."
"But..." I know there is a punch line coming.
"But...one of the Afghani's threw a grenade at us. It didn't hit us directly but it was close enough that the blast caused Nix to stumble. We both went crashing to the ground. Nix was back on his feet, now dragging me by my arm, when the second grenade hit. I remember it landing right about five feet from my legs when it blew."
"I'm so sorry, Paul."
"Hey," he says softly and grabs my hand. "Don't. This is a hero's tale, nothing more. The grenade took my legs but it threw Nix into the air. He hit the ground so hard his brain was pretty scrambled, and of course, he had that bullet hole in his chest. None of that stopped him though. He crawled back to me and started dragging me to safety. Of course, I weighed a lot less by that time."
I gape in horror at Paul.
"Geez. You and Nix need to lighten up a bit. Both of you are too tightly wound."
I try to smile but I'm failing miserably. I clear my throat. "Sorry. What happened next?"
"Nix got me to safety. The helo flew us out and we went to a field surgical hospital. Then we were separated. Nix was able to get medically stabilized a lot quicker than I was but we both ultimately ended up at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center."
I'm silent for a moment. Nix flipped out when I found the medal. Nix came here to apologize to Paul. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he's feeling like he did something wrong in the rescue. But after what Paul has just told me, I can't see how.
"What happened to Gary?" I ask.
Before Paul can answer, Nix provides me the information in a voice that barely registers above a whisper. "He died on the helicopter."
I turn around to see Nix leaning against the entryway to the kitchen. He looks sad. Beaten down. "And had I chosen to take Paul out of there first, he'd still have his legs. Gary would still be dead, because he wasn't going to make it out of there anyway...not with that stomach wound. Had I just taken Paul first, he'd have his legs."
And there was the source of Nix's guilt. He has been second guessing his decision making all of this time. Having the power of hindsight and calm conditions, he'd reasoned out that he made a poor choice.
I wanted to smack him.
But before I can say a word, Paul walks around the counter to stand in front of Nix. "Get your head out of your ass, man. You're not the only one that made that decision. We decided that together."
"What the hell did you know? You were suffering from blood loss --"
" --as were you, you jackass. It was the right call. If we had any chance of saving Gary, we had to get him to the medics first. They ultimately couldn't save him but it was still the right decision."
Nix is silent, digesting this. Paul doesn't let up though. He grasps Nix by the back of his head and makes him look at him. "Hear me when I say...I'd make the same decision all over again, even knowing what I know now. And if you'd be honest with yourself, you'd say the same."
Nix's gaze lowers, and he seems to be processing what Paul is saying. I want to wrap my arms around him so badly, but it's not the time or place. This is Paul's job right now.
"Nix," Paul says softly but with command. "You need to let it go, man. You did the right thing and you saved my life. You hear me. You didn't cause me to lose my legs...you caused me to live. You. Saved. My. Life. I will forever be indebted to you."
I'm watching Paul and Nix through the hazy film of tears that are pouring down my face. I'm witnessing something beautiful here...something that I'll never see again in this lifetime.
I watch Nix closely. I see pain, and fear, and then hope that maybe he has the story wrong. That maybe his life might have more purpose than he once thought. I can see he wants to trust what Paul is saying, but he's afraid to take that chance. He's wallowed in so much guilt and misery for so long, I think the idea that he could actually be a true hero is too much of a foreign concept to him.
Paul finally says, one more time. "Thank you, Nix for saving me. You are the most amazing person I know and I'm honored to call you my best friend."
And then I see it. I see the moment where Nix finally releases the pain. His body stands a little straighter. The glaze of guilt recedes from his eyes and I actually see a small smile grace his beautiful lips.
He doesn't say anything but nothing needs to be said as Paul pulls him into a tight hug.
***
The rest of the night was so nice. Paul's fiancee, Marie, came home with some pizzas. She and I actually ate in the kitchen, getting to know one another. Nix and Paul spent the time in the living room, talking in hushed tones while they ate. When we finished, I gave Paul and Marie hard hugs. I wasn't sure if I'd ever see them again but I hoped so.
At the hotel, we walk to our rooms. Nix has been noticeably quiet and introspective on the ride here. I'm not sure what he expects. Hell, I don't know what I expect, but I still want some time to just hold him and to thank him for sharing that part of himself with me. And for finally giving himself permission to be free from guilt.
We get to my room and I stick my key card in. Nix asks, "Can I
come in? I want to show you something."
"Sure," I say with a smile. I have no clue if he intends to show me pictures of his trip out West or if he wants to seduce me. I'll go with the second option if I have a choice but for now, I'm just thankful he wants to continue to talk.
After the door shuts behind us, I turn to look at Nix. "How do you feel after your talk with Paul?"
"Liberated. Relieved." He's silent for a second. "Peaceful."
I smile at him. "I'm so glad. Thank you for sharing that with me. I'm really humbled to know someone like you."
A shaky breath flutters out and Nix looks almost shy. "So...like I said...I want to show you something if that's okay with you."
"Sure." I'm more than curious.
Nix doesn't hesitate and pulls his t-shirt over his head. It happens every time that I see his amazing torso...all thoughts sort of melt away and all I can think of is, Oh my, he's a god.
He throws the shirt down and just stares at me. I don't know what he wants me to do. Does he want me to make a move? Because if so, then I'm ready throw myself into his arms.
My gaze rakes over his body, down then up. I glance at his eyes once, and I see amusement there.
Glad I can accommodate.
I do a once over again, staring a little more leisurely this time at his chest.
And then my breath catches. I see what he wants to show me. His tattoo has been finished.
I can't see any of what the writing says, but the scroll has now taken off from his left ribs and flows up over the top of his left pectoral muscle. It drapes over the top and comes to rest right over the area where his heart is nestled deep in his chest. I can see that the end of the scroll has been closed. It's complete.
"You finished your tattoo?" I'm in awe that he found enough inspirational messages that had meaning to him that he could fill it in so quickly. I'm itching to walk closer and see what revelations he inked on his ribs and chest to complete the artwork.
"I did. Would you like to examine it."
Oh, boy, did I.
I walk toward him on shaking legs. My fingertips are tingling with just the thought of touching his skin. I know I don't need to touch his body to read the tattoo, but I'm going to.
Walking up to the side where the tattoo starts, I note that Nix is watching me intently. I circle around to his back. I trail my fingers along his skin, appreciating the way his muscles twitch at my touch. I finally get to the spot where the tattoo had previously ended and I touch the words, "I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear. Martin Luther King, Jr. 1929-1968". That was the last entry I remembered seeing.
I peer at the next word. It simply says, "Emily". And the next word..."Emily".
And the next..."Emily".
I let my fingers brush the words.
I'm stunned. My name must be on his body dozens upon dozens of times within the scroll. I follow it across his ribs, making my way in front of him again. I slide my fingers over the tattoo...Emily, Emily, Emily...on and on, up over his chest and then coming down to rest over his heart. The last two words say, "My Emily".
I drag my eyes up to Nix who is staring at me intensely. He's holding his breath, waiting for my reaction. And he gets it.
I immediately start sobbing.
"Oh, Emily...don't cry," he tries to sooth.
His arms come around me and he pulls me into his chest. My cheek rests on top of my name.
Nix kisses the top of my head. "Do you like it?"
I nod my head and sob harder.
Finally, he picks me up, grabs a box of tissues from the dresser and carries me to the bed. Sitting on the edge, he cradles me in his lap and lets me cry. When I'm finally worn out, I lay there quietly, taking in the beauty that is this man.
My Nix.
Just as I'm his Emily.
Nix places a butterfly of a kiss on the top of my head. "Thank you for coming here with me, Em. I'm not sure I would have had the courage to talk to Paul had you not come."
I lean back so I can see his face and I bring my hand up to stroke his cheek. "I'm glad you asked me."
Nix covers my hand with his own and closes his eyes, relishing the touch. When he opens them, they are burning. "I want to make love to you, Emily. Will you let me?"
Oh, my. Words I have wanted to hear and yet I don't want to read meaning into them.
I nod my head slowly, holding my tongue.
Nix swoops in and masters my lips with his. My mouth opens readily for him and his tongue settles in for a leisurely exploration. I sink into the feeling, never wanting to let it go.
Nix suddenly pulls back. "Did you notice I said I wanted to 'make love'?"
He's smiling at me and this time, it's different than anything I've ever seen on his face before. It's completely at ease...filled with peace.
"I did notice."
"I just wanted to make sure you heard that. Because...it's different now with us."
"How so?" I whisper.
"Well, first, don't go thinking my style is going to change. I'm still more likely than not going to drive into you so hard you'll be screaming the walls down."
Just the thought makes my toes curl.
"The difference is now...I love you more than the air I breathe and I feel so very empty without you in my life. So no matter how down and dirty we get...no matter how hard or fast we go...it will always be making love, baby."
I sit up fast and flip my leg over Nix's. I straddle him and grab his face between my hands. I behold his lovely green eyes as they look at me with unfettered love and desire. "Oh, Nix. I love you so very much. More than I ever imagined possible."
He gives me a brief kiss then pulls back. "I have never felt so lost as I have these past two weeks. I can't believe I never even recognized the depth of feeling I had for you...until I lost it. I'm so sorry I did that to you, Emily. I promise I will hold your heart with the greatest of care if you'll trust it to me."
I sigh and lean my forehead against his. I finally get it. I get how love can run so deep that it touches the very fiber of your being.
"Nix...you are the most amazing man I have ever known. I'm lost without you, too. My heart is yours for however long you want to keep it."
"How about forever?" he says, rubbing his nose along mine.
"You got a deal."
Nix leans his face toward mine and we enter into a kiss that defies logic. It's deeper than a canyon, higher than the stratosphere and hotter than lava. It speaks of the promise of love to come and a gratefulness for what we've found together.
We strip each other quickly, murmuring sweet words of love and sexy words filled with passion.
Just before Nix slides into me, I take another look at my name inked over his heart, and I know that we have both battled improbable odds to find our way into each other's lives. We are so different from one another, yet we are the same. He and I have worked hard to overcome all of the things that had previously held us back.
We have found love together, and it is beyond glorious.
EPILOGUE
Emily
6 Months Later...
I pull one pillowcase out of the hamper and hold it up to my nose. Inhaling deeply, I release a soft sigh. Nothing smells better than clean sheets out of the dryer. Working a fluffy, feather pillow into the casing, I smile over this new domesticity I've come to love.
I'm making up Nix's bed. We finally have finished fixing the water damage to his house and he's moved back home. I say "we" finished the remodels because I'm quite proud to have helped with more than just making up his bed with fresh linens. These past several months, I've spent most of my weekends here with Nix, helping him to hammer and paint. I've come to love this house and the times I've spent here with him.
But I love all my times spent with Nix, no matter where we are.
As I finish the second pillow, the phone rings. I reach over and pick it up.
"Hello...Nix Caldwell's personal maid."
Warm la
ughter greets me on the other end. It's Paul. "Hey, Em. My man got you in a French Maid outfit?"
I snort. "Hardly...he prefers me to do my cleaning naked."
I hear Paul suck in a large breath and it sounds like he's choking on the other end. After a fit of laughter mixed with coughs, he asks, "Speaking of the perv...is he around?"
"Yep. Hold on..."
Putting my hand over the receiver, I yell toward the open bedroom door. Nix is downstairs in the living room trying to hook up all of his electronics. I had left him down there a bit ago, cursing under his breath. "Nix! Paul's on the phone."
I hear a loud curse this time, and something bangs to the floor. Nix picks up the receiver downstairs and I hang up.
Nix and Paul sure have come a long way since that night many months ago when Nix confessed his non-existent sins to both of us. Released from pain and guilt, Nix easily fell back into the solid friendship with Paul that had developed before their injuries.
My heart nearly swells to bursting just thinking about the way Nix easily laughs with Paul. Or the way that they tease each other mercilessly. Heck...Paul even has Nix laughing at his prosthetic jokes. It's a friendship that will last beyond this lifetime.
Pulling out the fitted sheet, I snap it out and let it float over the enormous mattress. Nix bought a new king size bed when he moved back into his home. He said he had no doubt that we would use every square inch of it and my face flushes thinking of all the times we christened it. Climbing onto the bed to tuck the sheet into the far corner, I remember just last night he had me on my back with my head hanging off the side of the mattress. I could see his bathroom door from my practically upside-down view while he showered heaven on my body. I shudder from the memory.
Before I can start to move to the next corner, I can feel the mattress dip and Nix grabs hold of my waist from behind me. He pulls my hips back until they nestle against his very hard erection. Desire pools warm and deep in my belly and I rub up against him. The move is calculated to drive him crazy but he's in a mood to take his time. I know this because he does nothing more than purr in his throat before pushing me down to the mattress and slowly covers me with his body.
Rolling to his side, he brings me with him, the heat from his chest burning through the thin material of the shirt covering my back. His arm wraps snug around my waist and he squeezes me tight. I can still feel his hardness pressed against my butt, but he does nothing more than stick his nose in my hair and breathe in deeply. This will definitely be slow and soft, I can tell.