Page 106 of Keeping a Warrior

Behind Devon the door jangled, and a rowdy group of airmen rushed inside, jabbering about buying some chips and cigarettes. The woman leapt out of the way as they swarmed the counter, her eyes wide in her suddenly ashen face.

Devon froze. The woman’s defensive posture was only too familiar, the way she raised her hands as if to ward off an attack...

Oh, God.

Without a word the woman fled, her panicked footsteps echoing down the sidewalk in her haste to escape. Rushing out the door after her, Devon could only watch helplessly as she disappeared around the corner, her call for the woman to wait dying on her lips.

With a moan of anguish, she slumped down on a nearby bench and buried her face in her hands. What’d happened to the girl was all too evident—but was it at the hands of these particular young men, or ones just like them? Had she reported it and been retaliated against, or was she living in constant fear and reminder, maybe having to work with her assailant every day or live in the same barracks as him?

If only Devon could’ve talked to her, could’ve been a listening ear or a comforting shoulder. Maybe she could have helped...

“You okay, ma’am?”

Devon glanced up into an earnest face and a pair of blue eyes shining with concern.

Such a polite young man, she thought. Had he, or someone like him, taken that girl’s trust, her sense of camaraderie, and twisted it into something that’d violated not only her body, but her sense of self-worth? Had her command used the “good soldier” defense to dismiss her allegations?

“You don’t get to come in here and ruin some good men’s careers...”

“Ma’am?”

The young airman was still waiting for an answer, and with an ache in her soul, Devon nodded. “I’m fine.”

She stood up, aware of her sweaty T-shirt clinging to her and waiting for his eyes to drop to her chest. To her surprise, his gaze stayed firmly fixed on her face, and with another bright smile, he took a step back. “Just checking, ma’am. Have a lovely day.”

Unable to speak, Devon simply turned and headed in the opposite direction, back toward the barracks and Rhys.

As she ran, her heart started to pound from more than exertion. Sudden possibilities started swirling through her mind. Ideas, dreams...

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

Yes, the women of Afghanistan needed her.

But maybe her own sisters-in-arms needed her more.

Chapter Twenty

The other guys had had the same thought, about seeing Shane, and the duty van was full of boisterous high-spirited men on the verge of going home.

Rhys sprawled out in his seat and listened to the cacophony of voices.

“Guess what? Darla’s pregnant!” Smudge announced to immediate razzing.

“You haven’t been home for months, dude! How’d that happen?”

“I heard those Coronado mailmen really get around.”

They all hooted at the thundercloud that descended over Smudge’s face. “I got her pregnant right before we left,” he ground out. “And she just now told me about it. You fuckers.”

“Sure, sure. That’s the story and you’re sticking to it.”

“Cool story, bro.”

Smudge just sat there as the guys continued to bust his balls. At last, not getting any further rise out of him, they offered their sincere congratulations with punches to his arm and crude jokes.

Rhys laughed along with everyone else, his arm slung along the bench seat behind Devon’s shoulders. After she’d returned from her run, she’d been quiet, pensive. As much as he wanted to talk about what’d happened that morning and what it meant for them going forward, he hadn’t pushed.

They’d have all the time in the world to talk on the plane.