Storm (Special Forces: Operation Alpha): A Linear Tactical Series Novel Read online

  “Good. I was afraid I was about to be escorted out.”

  “Nah. You’d be surprised the crazy stuff that happens around here. At my age, I just roll with it. I wanted to let you know that the kumquats your little one was talking to me about last week are here. I set a box aside for her.”

  “That was very kind of you. Thank you. Eva will be thrilled.” The thought of fruit that looked sort of like a tiny orange but could be eaten whole had captured both Eva and Sam’s attention when they’d been studying fruits as part of their homeschool science curriculum. Eva had asked Mr. Salazar if he had any “kum-squats” last week while she’d been in here with Marilyn. He’d promised he’d order some especially for her.

  “I’ll go get them for you.”

  Marilyn continued her shopping, careful not to smell any more fruits, despite Mr. Salazar’s permission.

  “Here you go.”

  She took the box. “Mr. Salazar, thank you so much. This will mean the world to Eva. She’s been learning about them in school.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize that was part of the school curriculum.”

  She shrugged. “Actually, I’m home-schooling my kids.” She didn’t want to get into why. How they’d had to move so many times to try to keep away from Jared.

  The older man didn’t press for explanations. “Teaching them about nutrition and to try new foods means you’re a great teacher, in my opinion. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Thank you.”

  She looked down at her phone when it buzzed in her pocket. Bree.

  Your kids need a dog. They’re having so much fun.

  Marilyn let out a sigh. I know.

  Now that they were settled, it was time to start seriously thinking about Noah’s offer to give the kids one of Corfu’s pups.

  She should call him. See if there was a time when they could come out to his ranch, test out the waters a little more. The kids would love that.

  Who was she kidding? She would like it, too.

  It had been four months since Jared was arrested. And she had left him, gone on the run with the kids months before that.

  Technically, she was still married, even if it had only been on paper for a long time. She was legally separated thanks to the lawyer New Journeys had set up for her, and the divorce would be expedited due to the circumstance and the restraining order she had against Jared.

  But still, she shouldn’t be thinking about another man. And she wasn’t, not really.

  But… she kind of was.

  Noah was such an odd combination. Silent, no nonsense. Not at all charming or playful like his brother Tanner. But he’d been so kind and patient with both her and the kids. He’d brought the dogs to see them twice this week just because he’d known they’d love it.

  He never pushed into her personal space, never did anything that made her uncomfortable. He was aware of his size and how it made her innately nervous, and he was careful never to put her in a situation where she had to flinch away.

  He was so much more mindful than most people. It was nice to be able to let her guard down just a little bit knowing he was aware of the atmosphere around him. Aware of her atmosphere.

  So aware, she’d even gone to Bree to see if the other woman had told him about Jared’s abuse. Not that he had to be some sort of Einstein to figure it out on his own given the fact that she lived and worked at a shelter and jumped at her own shadow most of the time. But Bree promised she hadn’t said a word.

  Noah was just in tune with what was happening around him. Maybe it was a Special Forces soldier thing. And he was respectful about her need for distance.

  So respectful she would’ve thought he wasn’t interested in her at all except she caught him looking at her more than once, and not with concern or pity.

  He looked at her the way a man looked at a woman he was interested in. An entirely different kind of awareness.

  She never thought she’d see that look in a man’s eyes. Especially not someone like Noah, who looked like he’d been ripped off the cover of Man’s Man Magazine.

  She wasn’t sure if she was excited by it or wanted to run as fast as she could in the opposite direction. Or some crazy combination of both.

  It did weird things to her stomach. Definitely did weird things to her emotions.

  But most of all, in the holes inside her that sometimes threatened to overwhelm her, it gave her hope.

  Taking one last inhale of the citrusy smell of the fruits, she left the produce section and headed down the bread aisle.

  She didn’t think anything was going to happen between her and Noah. She had way too much baggage that needed to be unpacked in her life first. But it gave her hope that maybe, possibly, one day she’d be able to look at a man—a man like Noah—with more than half-terror.

  She looked down at her list. Bread, Poptarts—a special treat since they had cotton candy flavored, which was the grossest thing Marilyn had ever heard. Wheat crackers, peanut butter. A light flickered above her and a box fell to the ground down the aisle with a loud bang—

  Going somewhere?

  Air lodged in her throat as Jared’s voice roared in her ears. The bread she’d grabbed fell to the floor from her numb fingers. No. No. He wasn’t here. Jared was in jail. She was safe. Jared wasn’t here. She was—

  Always so predictable and stupid.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder No! She slammed her hands over her ears trying to block out Jared’s thundering voice, his touch on her shoulder. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t here.

  You’ll always be mine.

  The smell of citrus floated away, replaced by the overpowering scent of his cologne. She retched, folding her arms around her head, hoping maybe she could protect herself.

  The hand on her shoulder squeezed and she whimpered, sinking to the cold floor. She had to get away. A voice from faraway said something, but she couldn’t hear it. Could only hear Jared.

  So predictable. Stupid.

  Her vision narrowed to pinpricks, her breath sawing in and out of her chest. She wrapped her arms around her head and rocked.

  Not again.

  She couldn’t survive it again.

  She knew crying wouldn’t save her, but she couldn’t stop the whimpers that came out of her mouth. She curled smaller and smaller into a ball, just wanting to disappear before the pain started.

  Going somewhere?

  “Please,” she whispered. “No. Please.”

  Jared just laughed.

  The darkness continued to close in around her. Like always, there was nothing she could do to save herself.

  4

  Noah was familiar enough with a PTSD-induced panic attack to recognize one when he saw it.

  If it had been anyone else but Marilyn huddled on the floor of the grocery aisle, he probably would’ve kept his distance and let someone else handle it. There were a lot more people in this town better equipped to handle a panic attack than he was. People good with words, good with comfort.

  But he knew there was no way he was going to be able to leave her vulnerable like that. The woman already brought out his protective instincts after just a couple of conversations.

  Marilyn curling herself into a ball, making herself the smallest target possible, wasn’t something he could walk away from.

  But he also had to accept the fact that she may not want him anywhere near her, may not want any man anywhere near her. Old Mr. Salazar, a fixture at this store as long as Noah could remember, was kneeling in front of Marilyn, trying to calm her down. It wasn’t working. She was just getting more hysterical—trapped in a hell no one else could see.

  There were a couple of other ladies wringing their hands, talking back and forth with each other, wondering if they should call 9-1-1. Noah ignored them and crouched next to Mr. Salazar.

  The older man looked relieved to see Noah. “She’s having hysterics. I’m not sure what to do. She was fine just a few minutes ago. I talked to her myself.”

&nbs
p; “I’ve seen some stuff like this from my days in the Army. I know her a little bit, do you mind if I try to talk to her?”

  Marilyn’s heartbreaking keens were painful to hear.

  A teenager with a phone recording Marilyn’s plight made the mistake of stepping closer. Noah narrowed his eyes at him. “Kid, if you want use of that phone and your fingers when this is over, I suggest you turn that off and delete the footage right now.”

  The kid turned pale. Good, he should.

  But then the old lady brigade took over, dragging the kid away by his ear. It was one of the things Noah loved about this town—people looked out for each other.

  “You talk to her, Noah. Maybe she’ll respond to you.” Mr. Salazar obviously wanted to get the sobbing woman off his floor. The kid who’d been recording was gone, but the crowd around them was getting bigger.

  “I don’t think we should touch her. Okay?”

  PTSD flashbacks were tricky. He’d seen soldiers attack their friends in the midst of them. Not that Marilyn attacking him posed any real danger.

  Mr. Salazar nodded and stood, taking a step back. That was good. Subconsciously, it probably helped Marilyn to know she wasn’t surrounded.

  Noah bent closer to her, careful not to touch her. He kept his voice soft, even. “Marilyn, it’s Noah. You’re safe. Nobody is going to hurt you.”

  If anything, her cries grew louder.

  He didn’t change the volume or cadence of his voice. “Marilyn, you’re okay. The kids are safe, but they need you.”

  She calmed just the slightest bit. The kids were key. Of course, they were. The only thing more important to her mind than protecting herself was protecting Eva and Sam.

  “That’s right. Eva and Sam need you. They’re waiting for you at home. They’re safe. You’re safe.”

  She quieted more so he repeated that same information, using Eva and Sam’s name as much as possible. Finally, after what seemed like an unbearable amount of time, she lifted her head from under her arm slightly.

  The demons he saw in her eyes were vicious and cruel and didn’t want to let her go. But she was fighting them.

  That’s right, gorgeous. I can’t fight them for you, but I’ll stand next to you as you fight them.

  “Noah?”

  “You’re safe. The kids are safe. You had some sort of panic attack.”

  She glanced around, taking in all the people, and he was afraid it was going to throw her right back into her panic.

  “Hey, stay with me. It’s going to be okay.”

  “I-I…” Her eyes blinked out at all the people.

  “Want me to get you out of here?”

  “Please.” Her voice was small.

  “I’ll have to touch you. Is that okay?”

  She nodded.

  He slid his arms under her back and knees, not difficult to do the way she was curled up. It didn’t take any effort to lift her. He regularly lifted bags of feed that weighed nearly as much as she did.

  “Mr. Salazar, can we use the break room?” Getting her away from all the gawking eyes was priority.

  “Sure, sure.” Mr. Salazar immediately shooed everyone away as Noah kept Marilyn clutched high to his chest and strode toward the back break room.

  Once inside, he sat her on the vinyl couch that had been here since he and Tanner had worked as baggers nearly twenty years ago. As soon as he put her down, he stepped back, wanting to crowd her as little as possible. She remained curled up in a ball, but at least she wasn’t making those heartbreaking little sobs.

  She needed some time to pull herself together. That was understandable. He could give her that.

  But he wished like hell he could give her more.

  He could almost see her piece herself back together, mentally fortify herself inch by inch. She had to fight for every scrap of strength, but she did it. It obviously wasn’t the first time she’d done it.

  “The kids are really okay?”

  Her hoarse whisper sent a crack through his heart, the one he hadn’t been sure still worked properly. Momma hen. First thought always to make sure her chickies were okay.

  “They’re fine. They aren’t with you.”

  She nodded after a moment. “They’re with Bree, playing with Star. What happened?”

  “You’re at the grocery store. It seemed like you had some sort of panic attack.”

  Her hazel eyes peeked out at him over her arms still wrapped around her knees. “Yeah.”

  “Do you know what caused it?”

  She scrubbed a hand down her face. “I’m not sure what happened exactly. But nobody hurt me, if that’s what you’re worried about. Or even scared me, I don’t think. A light flickered and a box fell on the floor, but nothing big. Sometimes I…” She rested her forehead back on her arms.

  “Sometimes the nightmares are triggered before you even know they’re on their way,” he finished for her. “It doesn’t have to be something scary for things to come crashing down.”

  “Yes.” She looked up at him again. “How do you know that?”

  “Let’s just say I have had my own share of PTSD nightmares.”

  She unwrapped her arms from her knees. “This isn’t PTSD. I’ve never been a soldier.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You may not ever have been in the military, but don’t doubt that you’ve been in battles. Just because your enemy was a single person doesn’t mean you’re not dealing with the same sort of stressors that soldiers do.”

  She studied him for a long minute, and he could tell she was weighing what he said. He hoped it made her feel stronger because he wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t the truth. If she thought these panic attacks were a sign of weakness, then she needed to readjust her thinking.

  It wasn’t a sign she was weak; it was a sign she was a survivor.

  “Thank you for helping me.” She sat up a little straighter. “I’ve been working with a therapist to figure out what my triggers are so I can combat them more effectively. There are a lot of things I can do to help myself, and I try to as much as possible.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t like it when people catch me unaware from behind. Even someone I know. I like to keep everyone in my line of vision whenever possible.”

  “Understandable. And can I say from a soldier’s perspective… smart.”

  “And certain sounds sometimes cause me to spiral. That might be what happened today.” She let out a sigh. “Everybody probably thinks I’m crazy.”

  “They’re worried about you. That’s different than thinking you’re crazy. People wanted to help but they weren’t exactly sure what to do.”

  “You did.”

  Noah shrugged. “I just knew to try to give you as much space as possible and to say things that might get through to your subconscious. Stuff about the kids. About you being safe. Your brain just needed to be reminded where you were.”

  She leaned a little toward him. “Thank you. Thank you for figuring out what to say, for getting me out of there so quickly. It’s been a long time since—”

  Both of their gazes flew to the door as someone rushed in and Noah stood, ready to put himself between Marilyn and any danger. But it was Bree.

  “Marilyn, oh my God, are you okay? Mr. Salazar called New Journeys and said you passed out. Do we need to call an ambulance?” Bree rushed over and hugged Marilyn.

  Heat flooded Marilyn’s pretty face as she sat up straighter on the couch. “No, I’m fine. Just had a panic attack for no apparent reason. Evidently we can add bread to the list of things Marilyn is afraid of.”

  He pressed his lips together to keep from stopping her from making jokes at her own expense.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t hurt yourself or anything, did you?” Bree asked.

  “No, I promise. I’m fine. Just embarrassed. Please tell me the kids don’t know about this. I don’t want them to worry.”

  “No. No, of course not. They are back at New Journeys playing and doing
a puzzle. Some of the other moms offered to look after them.”

  Marilyn stood. “I need to finish my shopping.”

  Bree reached out to rub both her arms. “I can finish the shopping. Why don’t you just go home and rest.”

  “I-I…” She glanced in Noah’s direction.

  Noah understood her hesitation. It wasn’t about physical strength or not being able to finish her shopping, it was about getting back out there and facing everyone. About refusing to let the demons win.

  “What if we finish shopping together?” he offered. “You had a couple of fruits in your cart I’d like to know more about. I’m always interested in trying new foods. Must be a leftover habit from my time in the Army.”

  Her eyes latched on to his. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “I think we both need to get out there and finish our shopping.”

  Bree looked back and forth between the two of them, obviously trying to figure out what she was missing. “Okay, then. I’ll go back and make sure the kids are doing alright. You take as long as you need to get your shopping done, Marilyn.”

  She stayed and chatted a few more minutes, mostly to make sure Marilyn really was okay. Once Bree was gone, Marilyn stood, staring at the break room door and taking deep breaths.

  The breaths weren’t helping. He didn’t know if she was going to be able to force herself to go back out there.

  “I once made out with Annabel Jarvis right on that couch.”

  She stopped mid-breath and turned to him. “What?”

  He grinned. It felt rusty and stilted, but he did it anyway. “Yep. I was working as a bagger in high school, she was a cashier back from college for the summer. We were closing together alone and…” He trailed off on purpose, wagging his eyebrows. “It’s the reason Mr. Salazar changed the rule about having a manager here for closing.”

  She cracked a smile, a little stiff, but close enough. “Annabel Jarvis, huh? What a cougar.”

  There you go, gorgeous. You got this.

  “Definitely. Be sure not to tell her husband and three kids.” He took a step closer. “Ready?”

  She nodded and they walked out. Noah stayed by her side as they got their carts from Mr. Salazar and she began her walk down the different aisles again.