“Don’t lie to me,” I insisted, tucking one leg under my body and turning to face him. The flickering light of the fire only served to illuminate the worry on his face, pulling at the corners of his eyes, knotting his brows, and thinning his lips.
Fucking hypocrite,I cursed to myself.
He sighed, staring out into the backyard where Sarge was chasing a tennis ball he’d just tossed out there for him. “I’m not sure. I mean legally there’s nothing they can do. They’ll have one hell of a lawsuit on their hands if they fire me.”
“Well, sure. But what about the parents? Are the rest of them like what’s his name?”
“Mr. Murphy,” he filled in the blank for me. “No,” he decided finally. “They aren’t. None of the other kids are abused, not that I can tell anyway. But I don’t think they’ll have a problem. And even if they do . . .”
He left that idea hanging out there, sounding unsure of what the rest of his words should be.
If I stayed here, I didn’t have a doubt in my mind I’d jeopardize his career. Legalities aside, I knew how these things went, especially here in Texas. The parents would make enough of a stink about a gay man working with teenage boys, and it wouldn’t be long before the school would reach some kind of agreement with Jude, ultimately forcing him to leave the job he loved so much.
I didn’t have it in me to do that to him.
But I knew I couldn’t walk away from him, especially not now, knowing what it felt like to love him and have him love me.
It all became too much to think about. Overwhelmed by thoughts of Simon and how I’d finally tell Jude about him, and the fallout of being caught in public by the one asshole parent he knew, I needed to go to bed.
For the first time in weeks, I looked forward to the nightmares waiting for me in my sleep.
Everywhere I looked it was pitch-black. The darkness surrounding me was so thick it felt like a blanket draped over my body. If it wasn’t for the weight of my gear on my back, the feel of my gun in my hand, I wouldn’t have known where I was.
War.
But there was no battle. There was no gunfire, no yelling or screaming. No carnage, no blood.
Panic rose in my chest, my heart thumping so wildly behind my ribs I was afraid it would pound right out of my body. Sweat dripped from under my helmet, blurring my vision.
Tentatively, I took a few steps forward, stopping only when my leg brushed against something soft. I knelt, reaching out blindly for whatever was under my foot.
Complete and utter confusion heightened my anxiety when my fingers touched something far too familiar and all too foreign to be at war.
Simon’s stuffed turtle, Shelby. As I brought it up to my face, to try and see it through the darkness, the lights flickered on. My eyes stung with the brightness of it all and I wondered when I would wake from this nightmare.
I wanted to call out for him, to find him, make sure he was safe, but my voice wouldn’t work. The only noise I was capable of was a strangled cry. As my world came into focus, I realized with a sting where I was.
Home.
Back in California.
The cries gave way to screams, and finally, Simon’s name tore from my lips. The faintest sound of a reply called back to me. It was distant, and as I moved through the house, I felt as if I was walking for miles and miles.
My legs were lead weights, barely moving with each step. “Simon,” I yelled, but my voice came out as nothing more than a whisper. Somewhere in the distance, I wondered where Delilah was. Why wasn’t she keeping him safe? Wasn’t that her job?
That’s your job, asshole. But then you left.
The stinging indictment rang out in my head louder than any noise I’d ever heard. Louder than any roadside bomb, exploding under my body, tearing my arm away.
Walking down the familiar hallway, I approached his room as his screams filled my ears. “I’m coming. Simon, I’m coming. I’ll save—”
Stopping dead in my tracks, I couldn’t walk any further. There was sand everywhere, pouring in from every corner of the house. “Simon,” I yelled. “Come to the door. Come to me. I’ll save you.”
“Daddy!” He was crying so hard I barely recognized his voice. “Daddy, I’m so scared.”
A strength I didn’t know I possessed overtook my body and forced me to walk forward through the thick sand. With each step forward, another sound came into focus. At first it was faint, off in the distance. But with each step, it became clearer and clearer.
Recognition dawned, stabbing me in the chest, a searing pain I felt in every inch of my existence. Before I heard another sound echoing behind me, I screamed, “Jude. No . . . !”
