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She shot up onto one elbow and tried, but failed, to slow her racing thoughts. “Whoa. Wait a minute. A bad conduct discharge and two months in jail? How’d that come about?”
He let out a sigh, his attention on the roof unfocused and distant. “By that point, I was just over twenty-three years old. I was in Afghanistan, and even though my commander was one prickly son-of-a-motherfucker, I was moving up the ranks nicely.”
He paused again, his long fingers collecting a lock of her hair fanned across his chest. He wound that lock over his forefinger while she watched the slow and meditative action. “Some of the guys in my squadron decided to go out one night. We wanted to let loose, do something other than work, eat, sleep. We ended up at a bar in Kabul. Nothing glamorous, just some family-run place where no rules applied, including the fact they had minors serving drinks. I had early patrol the next morning, so stopped drinking after a couple of beers, but stayed for a bit to chat with the guys. After a few hours, most were either drunk or had returned to base. I was on my way out too when I heard my staff sergeant slur, ‘You gotta learn sometime, honey.’ I turn and he has this girl pinned against a wall to my right. She couldn’t have been much more than sixteen—”
She pressed a hand to his chest. “Oh. No.”
A cold sensation washed through her, but he nodded all the same. “His hand was pushed under her skirt. She looked downright terrified, while two people who I figured were her parents stood behind the counter, their stares frozen. Probably because they wanted to step in, but figured there’d be a blood-price to pay.”
She reached out and ran her thumb over his rough jawline, her heartbeat settling when his gaze joined hers. “And based on your actions with the Chadleys at the nursery, I’m going to take a wild guess here and say you didn’t let that one go?”
“No. I pulled him off the girl. Told him to come back to base with me and sober up,” he scoffed, and lifted his hand so he clasped her wrist. “Except the sergeant told me to go fuck myself and took a swing at me. Of course, in his drunken state he missed, but he turned for the girl again. By that point she’d started to scream, and she slapped him repeatedly, trying to fight him off. Even her parents found their voices. The scene got loud and ugly fast. He ripped the top buttons on her shirt, still struggling with her. I didn’t have time to think, much less weigh up consequences. So, I knocked him out, and me and a couple of the guys dragged him outta there.”
“I don’t understand.” She took his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckle. In so many ways at work, though never that extreme, she’d been that girl in the bar. Just like her incident with the two college boys earlier tonight, it was rare to have someone stand up and help. “What about any of that would land you in jail?”
“Just the part where the staff sergeant was a sour pissant who used his higher rank to craft some story bad enough to lump me with a court martial. All the rest followed after that.”
“But you had so many witnesses. Why didn’t anyone vouch for you?”
“Simple. The family refused to talk. I can understand why. They’d already been through so much, and this war-zone was their home. Soon enough, we’d be moving on, they wouldn’t. The other guys? They were either too drunk at the time to be a credible witness or too chicken-shit to speak up. By the time we got to court, the staff sergeant spun a story where the roles were reversed. I was the drunk and would-be rapist. He was the one trying to stop me and I assaulted him in the process. Our age and rank difference made it a credible enough tale. There were no guarantees I’d be found innocent, or that anything would happen to the staff sergeant. I guess the other guys figured they’d be stuck working with him, and he’d make their lives hell too if they spoke up. So, the rest is cut and dried. I did the time, then got booted back home.”
She shook her head and clasped at his hand, his warmth seeping into her palm and a heavy sadness gripping at her insides. For all the good he’d done, his life had been ruined. “It’s hard enough as it is for most returned service people to start over.”
“Yeah, and in my case, with five years scrubbed off my resume and a prison record, it was impossible.” He held her gaze, his cheeks slack, and his expression pleading for her not to judge him. Not that she would… “I tried LA, figuring it was a big city. Maybe it would be easier to disappear and find work. It wasn’t. I tried. I really did try. But the bills kept growing, and I was on the edge of being yet another homeless vet. So, I gave up. I figured, what the hell? I was already guilty. What difference would it make if I got my money from the wrong crowd?”
