Page 59 of Tripped By Love
“Wanting it and deserving it are very different things,” he said quietly, and as if he couldn’t stop himself, his hand came up to push aside the hair that had escaped my bun, being careful not to touch my face or my neck. The tendril was the only thing that got to feel his embrace, and I was almost jealous of my own hair. Stupid. But the lack of touch stabbed me almost as much as his words did. My heart twisted for him because he thought he had to deny himself this. Love of any kind. I wanted him to have it, even if it wasn’t with me. Even if I didn’t get to keep him.
“What happened?” I demanded, wanting to know what had left such a huge scar on him. Had left him feeling like there could never be a way back to redemption.
“I don’t want to tell you,” he said. It was hushed and pained, but it hurt me in a different way—as if he couldn’t trust me.
“Why?”
“Because you won’t see me the same way,” he said gently. “And I’m selfish enough to want to keep the stars in your eyes. I want you to look at me like you do right now. As if I’m the hero of the story. The knight who shows up on his steed whether the princess needs him or not. Even if it’s just to pick up a sword and swing at her side.”
I shook my head, and my hair gave up its war with gravity, tumbling down about me. I had so much of it that it rarely stayed up in a solitary bun. It was why I usually had two round cinnamon rolls sitting atop my head. Today, I’d been lazy, simply looping it into place with bobby pins that wouldn’t stay and had slowly been springing free all day. Our workout had been the final trial. Marco wrapped a single coil around a finger, slowly drawing it closer to my cheek but restraining himself from the final twist that would have his skin touching mine.
“But the princess doesn’t fall in love with the knight because he shows up, Marco,” I said with all the confidence I could muster. “She falls in love because when the war is over, he takes off all the armor and bares himself to her. Because they share their dreams and their goals and their hopes and their fears. She might admire him on the battlefield, but she loves him when he’s entwined himself into every part of her.”
His finger fell to my face, crashing into my lips, running a thumb over the bottom one and tugging at the top as if they were fascinating pieces of art instead of pieces of a body that everyone had. They were mundane, really, but he seemed enthralled by mine.
“Do you know what a code red is?” he asked, voice raspy and barely audible it was so low.
I nodded. “Yes. Doesn’t everyone? I mean, if you’ve seenA Few Good Men, at least.”
He grimaced, eyes flicking from my lips to meet my gaze.
“That movie and my life have quite a few similarities.”
“Someone died because of a code red you did?” I asked, trying to hold back my shock, because I didn’t want him to think he’d been right?that I’d think less of him after he’d told me the truth. I wouldn’t. I knew that with every fiber in me.
“No. She didn’t die,” he said. “And I didn’t give the code red.”
I was surprised by the female pronoun but equally confused by his denial. “If you didn’t give the code red, why does it haunt you?” I couldn’t help the thought that ran across my mind. “You didn’t order it, did you?”
He shook his head, growing grimmer, but it only continued to confuse me.
“I refused to follow my captain’s order. He wanted me…” He swallowed hard. “He wanted me to steal all of her clothes. To sneak into her barracks while she was showering. Take everything there and everything from her locker. Towels. Everything. He wanted her naked and humiliated.”
Anger spiked through me—not at Marco but at the captain. The arrogance and pain he was willing to cause another human being.
“Why would he do that?” I asked.
“Retaliation. She was a corpsman like me, but with more seniority. We’d been out on a training op, and the captain collapsed in the field. She’d been the first one at his side as he came to. He was already embarrassed as shit because you don’t show that kind of weakness in the military, ever, especially as a Marine. He’d said he had a heat stroke. She said he had a heart issue. At a minimum, it would have put him behind a desk, and at worst, he could have lost his commission. Either way, he was humiliated and angry. Pissed that she’d gone against what he’d said was wrong with him.”
“What happened when you refused?” I asked.
“He was even more furious. Had me clean the latrines like I was back at boot camp and had me confined to quarters. He threatened to write me up for disobeying a direct order, but we both knew he couldn’t without lying about the order he’d given.”
He paused as if looking through me at some video on replay. Images that caused him pain.
“I’m still confused. Why on earth would this make me think less of you?” I asked.
“Because I saw them leave and didn’t stop them.”
I held my breath and then waited for him to continue as fear started to crawl through me. “There were some Marines in the unit?young and impressionable?who had idolized the captain. They were also arrogant and chauvinistic and hated that a female corpsman was there at all, let alone putting their captain at risk.” He paused, shaking his head. “I convinced myself they were just going out for drinks. That it had nothing to do with Petty Officer Warren and the code red I’d refused.”
He stopped talking completely, shutting down until I thought he’d disappeared altogether in the past.
“What happened?” I prompted, afraid to know and desperate to hear the rest so I could somehow soothe him. Grant him solace and reprieve.
“They attacked her…left her naked and battered…assaulted…at the foot of the flagpole.”
“Holy shit!” My eyes widened, and I reached out to grab the hand he’d moved back away from my face. I curved my fingers around it and forced the palm to my cheek. “Marco, that is not on you.”
