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I suppose that’s the only reason I kissed her like I did. I’ll never experience it again, and knowing what I almost allowed to happen, I deserve to have that memory torture me for a very long time.
Finally, in my truck, I fly from the compound and across the city toward the beach. I’m still in yesterday’s disguise of athletic shorts and running shoes, so I plan to do a long, soft-sand run to add to my punishment.
The sky is a patchwork of clouds ranging from heavy gray to almost black, a continuation of our unpredictable weather. Fine. It suits my mood. I strip off my hat and shirt, stow my phone, and set off for the sand.
Three miles, a lot of sweat, and plenty of self-lecture later, I return to my truck. The sight at the rear has me nearly spinning right back around to go for another run. “How the hell did you find me?”
Jackson winks and offers me a bottle of water. I accept without thanks and take a few big gulps while he snickers. “A gift from Birdie. Yesterday, she explained to me all about her homemade app she put on your phone to record and upload. Funny thing, that software. It shows the user’s location. I had her put the app on my phone to record any important observations I made on my trek to the snack bar. It was nice to have when you weren’t answering your phone.”
“So, you’ve found me. Tag, you’re it?”
Jackson laughs, lowers my tailgate, and takes a seat on it. “How’s Birdie?”
“She’s fine. She’s sequestered inside the compound until the police find the guy that drugged her.”
I know the man well enough to know that he’s holding back what he really wants to say when he asks, “Any word on that?”
“Not that I’ve heard. I’m not exactly in the police loop.”
“That’s a crock of shit. It’s not like Birdie won’t tell you every word they say.”
When I remain quiet, he prods. “Unless…”
I stare out over the angry ocean instead of at my friend, not wanting to admit to anything. No matter. The bastard could always read my mind.
“You jackass. You did something stupid, didn’t you?”
Jackson hops off the truck to pace a few feet away. When he’s built up a good head of steam, he whirls on me. “I don’t believe you, man. I always thought all this bullshit with your dad was stupid, but I hoped you’d let it go when you found the right woman. Well, I was wrong because here you are, being an absolute moron.”
I dismiss his claim with a shrug. “Say what you want, Clothespin. I don’t care. I know myself better than you do. I won’t make a second victim out of Birdie.”
He throws his arms up. “Mother fucker.”
Jackson’s seriously worked up and pissed off, two things I’ve never seen before coming from the man. He storms the few feet separating us and gouges his finger into my chest. “Let me tell you something, dickhead. The only reason I’m still in the Navy, and you’re not, is that you flattened that asshole lieutenant before I could get to him. So, don’t make yourself out to be some martyr.”
I make no attempt to move his finger but say, “I know what I am.”
Jackson’s dark laugh is ominous as he backs up a step. “You know what? You’re right. You refuse to take up with Birdie because you’re afraid you’d hurt her. Well, congratulations, asshole. You’ve already fucking done it.”
Now, I’m the one advancing. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Mainly, that you’re an idiot. I learned two things about Birdie Crenshaw during our time together in that park. Number one, she’s the smartest person either of us knows, and two, she’s over the moon for you. It seems you’ve been paying her a lot of attention lately. You didn’t give her any shit about hunting but volunteered to help. That sort of thing leaves an impression on a woman.
“Something happened that caused you to develop feelings for her. You couldn’t help getting close and showing her support at that point. Then, I’m guessing, just guessing, you planned to walk away, sacrificing your own heart to save her from yourself. You wanted to look at your face in the mirror and feel vindicated by paying some bullshit debt to the universe.”
“Shut the fuck up, Bennett.”
“Why? Because I’m right? Well, listen up, asshole. I ain’t done yet. You made Birdie want you just so you get to walk away, the bigger man than your father. Guess what that means?” he yells. “You’ve hurt the woman, even if she doesn’t know it yet. So, again, I say congratulations. You got your wish. You know what else? You’ve turned out just like him.”
Jackson turns for his truck, and I chase after him, grabbing his arm and getting in his face. “I am nothing like that sorry excuse for a man!”
Jackson yanks free from my grip and looks out over the ocean and shore, anywhere but at me. “There are plenty more ways to break a woman than your fists. You just chose another way.”
Without another word, my best friend climbs behind the wheel of his truck and drives away.
I’m left choking on his words. I wish I were the kind of bastard he described. I wish I could turn it off and take Birdie for my own. But Jackson doesn’t know the anger that burns through my veins. He doesn’t know that I constantly fight to reign in my rage every time I step into the sparring ring at work. I fear I’d kill my opponent after a well-placed punch if I didn’t.
Putting my hands on Birdie, even just once, might bruise her, but it would destroy me. I don’t want to see fear in her eyes, and I don’t want to see the devil in mine.
