Page 48 of Under Control

“No.” Carrick shook his head, sitting strong and stoic in his place beside her. “We’d better not draw attention to ourselves.”

Danica tilted her head, considering his words. The lingering threat couldn’t be ignored. He was teaching her how to fight for a reason. She just hoped to God that she wouldn’t have to use the moves anytime soon.

A silence fell between them, but he didn’t say anything else. He just kept looking out over the water until, finally, she could remain quiet no longer and broke it.

“Tell me about you,” she said.

“What’s there to know?”

That same silence thickened between them, and more than ever she wondered what that cryptic message meant on his housewarming gift—"let the past be the past”. She’d grown desperate to know even the smallest morsel of information about him. Wouldn’t he tell her?

“Have you ever been in love?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s never going to happen again,” he snapped with a tone of finality.

Her mouth dropped open. She was unwilling to believe it.

“Why not?” she pressed, chewing on his words.

“Because I’m never going through that shit again, so forget it.” Carrick snarled with profound pain in his voice, pushing her away.

Before she could say anything, he got up and took three long steps toward the tent. The sand beneath her fingers seemed to shift and screech—screaming at her not to get up, not to follow him.

But she popped up out of her spot on the sand anyway.

“Wait, Carrick,” she breathed, all the hurt from the morning rushing back.

He paused, half-turned around and gazed over at her—guarded as hell. There was maybe ten feet between them, but it felt like an ocean.

She quickly explained, “I don’t understand why you won’t just talk to me about yourself. You are less trusting than I am.”

“This isn’t about trust, Dani.” His eyes flashed with fury and she knew the conflict between them had officially exploded.

“Then what?” The desperation in her caused her to grow irate. “Why can’t you just fucking tell me a goddamn thing about you? Don’t I deserve to know?”

He stood there, silent, watching her, as she laid it all on the line. Finally, he opened his mouth, and Danica found herself falling into his words.

“I’m an old vet, Dani. A washed up, broken sniper.” Carrick spoke in a low, warning tone tinged with anger and pain. “I’ve been to war and lived some fucked-up shit. I have no business putting that on you. You have your whole life ahead of you—withoutme. Stop asking.”

Then he turned around, moving back toward the tent.

“Withoutyou?” Danica felt breathless, searching.

He shrugged her off, ignoring her.

She fell forward, stumbling closer to him, unable to let it go. “What do you mean—"without you”?”

He said nothing, as if she didn’t exist. It drove her insane, and words she didn’t want to say broke out of her mouth.

“I heard what you said! You think I’m a charity case!” she cried out behind him.

He stopped, turned and crossed his arms. A furious look expanded over his face as he looked down on her.

“Enough with the bullshit,” he growled. “It’s time for you to listen and learn how to defend yourself, because you and I both know that one day I’ll be gone.”

The reality of him eventually leaving just broke her.

“Then why did you do that to me last night? Why did you touch me?” She waved her hands frantically, tears falling down her cheeks. “Was it because I’m a charity case?”

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