Darren needed professional help, but nothing and no one seemed able to make him seek it. The rest of the evening passed in the same vein—tension and anxiety overlaid with a fake brightness. It was exhausting, and Harper was glad when the kids’ bedtime offered her an escape. She crawled into the fairy tent, which was actually quilts and covers thrown over furniture to form a lean-to of sorts, to read Sophie her story.
The four adults climbed the stairs together, Bennett ducking into Libby’s room and Harper taking Sophie’s. Darren and Allison disappeared into the master bedroom and closed the door.
After getting ready for bed, Harper stared at the movable shadows on the ceiling. Her mind bounced between worries like a pinball machine. Her bland, boring life had become anything but.
A noise outside her door had her bolting to her feet, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She cracked the door half-expecting another foray into the night by Darren. But the hallway was empty. Her heart slowed as her senses strained outward.
The eerie noise came again and this time she recognized the moan as Bennett’s. She flew across the hall and opened his bedroom door. A night-light on the wall illuminated him tangled in a sheet with pink hearts. He tried to escape their cotton prison as his arms reached from something he could see only in his dream. Or maybe he was trying to keep something at bay.
He was bare chested, but she could see pajama pants riding low on his hips at the edge of the sheet. She eased onto the edge of the bed and poked his bare shoulder. When her gentle touch failed to rouse him, she shook his shoulder.
“Wake up, Bennett.” She kept her voice at a whisper knowing how sound traveled through the thin walls. Dropping her face closer to his, she shook him harder. “Wake up.”
His surge to sitting surprised her. He grabbed her upper arms, his grip biting. She squirmed. “Bennett. Let me go.”
His hands loosened, but he didn’t release her. “Harper?” His voice was rough with sleep and emotion.
“You were having a bad dream. Was it the same one?”
“Did I wake everyone up?”
“No one. I wasn’t even asleep yet.” She stroked his sides, smooth skin over muscle.
She tried not to notice how good he felt, but with the danger passed she became intimately aware of their position. She had managed to get herself in bed with him once again. This time she was only wearing an oversized T-shirt and panties. Maybe her subconscious was telling her something.
He ran his hands up and down her arms, the rasp unbearably arousing and soothing at the same time. Her hands moved, too, dancing up his back and bringing her chest closer to his. He was warm and solid.
“Maybe I should stay with you,” she said softly. “Otherwise, you won’t go back to sleep, will you?”
His slight laugh was raspy. “I’m used to bad dreams, but I won’t object.”
He drew her down on the bed with him. It was a twin bed and they lay on their sides, facing each other. She buried her face in the hollow of his throat and pretended her motivations were purely altruistic. One hand was trapped between them, but the other roved selfishly over his body making notes of what made his breath hitch and what made him shiver.
His hand was on a similar mission, snaking under her shirt to measure the length of her spine with his fingertips until they reached the band of her panties. Her back arched, an invitation to move his hand lower still. He accepted, palming her buttock.
She wanted him even though it was too soon and too complicated and too crowded in the house. He wanted her, too. She could feel him against her, his hips restless and searching.
The soft opening and closing of a door froze them like two teenagers caught by a spotlight. Footsteps sounded down the hall and creaked on the stairs.
Bennett rose, pulled on a T-shirt, and slipped out. She lay in the bed for a few minutes, her ears straining for a clue as to what was happening, but only silence reverberated.
She eased out of bed and glided down the stairs. The kids were motionless in their tent. She moved to the front room and peeked out of the windows. Her breath caught. Bennett and Darren were in the yard grappling.
Before she could decide what to do, they broke apart, their chests heaving. Words passed between them. She toggled the latch and raised the window a few inches.
“—unacceptable.” Bennett’s voice was low but commanding. “You need help.”
“Go to hell. You’re not my commanding officer. Never were.” Darren stalked up to the porch and Harper shrank down behind the window, pressing herself against the wall, but the doorknob didn’t turn.
“No, I am—was, anyway—your friend, unless I’m mistaken.” Bennett’s voice was close now, and she peeked over the edge. He stood toe-to-toe with Darren on the porch, only a few feet from her hiding spot. “I should have checked on you as soon as you got home. I’m sorry for that, but I’m here now.”
“I appreciate that, but there’s nothing you can do.”
“I can listen. You don’t think I had issues after I got home?”
“Nightmares?”
“Of course.”
“How often?” It was almost like Darren was in competition to see which one of them was the most screwed up.
“Often enough.” Bennett stepped back and leaned against the wall. The hovering testosterone cloud dissipated. “I got a dog. Believe it or not, he helps. So do people that care.”
“Allison doesn’t get it.”
“Have you tried talking to her?”
“No way am I going to lay my fucked-up thoughts on her.”
“A shrink?”
At Darren’s muttered curse, Bennet said, “Okay. Then, find someone to talk to who’ll understand. Like me.”
The ticking of a clock inside marked the silence. When Darren spoke, she had to strain closer to the opening to hear him. “I can’t turn my brain off at night. I lay there in the dark and think about things I did and the horrible things I saw. I relive them every night. Like it’s happening over and over again like Groundhog Day.”
“Same thing I went through.”
“How’d you get past it?”
“Booze. Denial. Compartmentalization. Then, one night I was out in the middle of the Dismal Swamp by myself and just … stayed. For two weeks I lived off the land. I saw no one, talked to no one; no one missed me.” His voice dropped. “I almost didn’t come back.”
“But you did. Why?”
“Along with peace, I located a selfish will to live. That’s when I got motivated to start the survival school. The school gave me purpose. Maybe that’s what you’re missing.”
“I have purpose. My job is important.”
“What are you going to do if they send you back over?”
Darren plopped in one of the rocking chairs and dropped his head into his hands, his voice cracking. “I-I … don’t know.”
“For your sanity, get out and find a different purpose. Concentrate on Allison and the kids.”
“The service is all I know. It’s all I ever wanted. How can I leave it behind?”
“Look at yourself. It’s killing you, man, as surely as a sniper’s bullet.”
A rhythmic squeak sounded from the slight motion of the rocking chair. “Don’t you think about Noah? Doesn’t he haunt you?”
Harper’s fingernails pressed into the soft wood of the sash at the mention of Noah, and her heart spurred like a horse given its head. Bennett’s face was cast in shades of gray, his expression camouflaged.
“Of course he does, but not in a bad way. I miss him like hell.” Bennett sounded as solemn and serious as she’d ever heard him, which was saying something.
“How can you … and her…” Darren gestured toward the house.
“Trust me, I didn’t plan it. You think Noah would have my balls?”
“Does she know what happened?”
Her head swam as the question birthed a million more. She dropped to her knees and closed her eyes.
“Not the details. And I’m not planning on telling her, either.” Bennett’s voice came from a mile away, almost indistinct. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here. How about we go inside?”
“You always did have a way with words, Griz.”