“Come on,” he said. “You must be exhausted. And freezing.”
Devine led her off the roof and down to the second floor, where he and Palmer got her into bed.
At the doorway Devine said to Palmer, “Do you know what triggered this?”
Palmer looked unsure. “I heard her call out, so I went to see if she needed anything. I don’t think she was awake. I mean, she was lying in bed, but she was moving around sort of jerkily and saying stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?” Devine said quickly.
“I don’t know. I mean, it seemed like she was having a nightmare, but where it seems so real you’re punching and kicking in bed? You know what I’m talking about?”
He glanced at the now-sleeping Alex. “Yeah, I know.” He looked back at Palmer. “Anything you can remember her saying? It’s important.”
An agitated Palmer thought for a few moments. “I remember her saying something like, ‘Why are you doing this to me? I thought we were friends.’”
In his anxiety Devine gripped Palmer’s shoulders. “She said that, you’re sure?
“Yes. Why?” she exclaimed, looking both confused and uncomfortable.
Devine didn’t answer her. He just turned and stared over at Alex.
Chapter 54
Devine awoke with a start and looked around at the somewhat familiar surroundings. He was in Jenny’s old room, where he had fallen asleep — he checked his watch — a mere four hours ago.
He yawned and slowly stood, pressing down his rumpled clothes. He hadn’t bothered to disrobe because he had been too tired and the room was too cold.
He washed his face in the bathroom down the hall, tried and failed to smooth down his hair, and slowly opened the door to Alex’s bedroom after knocking quietly and not getting an answer. She looked to still be asleep. He leaned in close enough to make sure he could see the steady rise and fall of her chest.
He glanced over at a chaise against one wall, where Annie Palmer lay fast asleep under a heavy blanket. She had insisted on staying in Alex’s room, and Devine had decided to sleep on the premises, just in case something else happened.
He quietly closed the door and headed down to the kitchen. He didn’t see Dak. He made himself coffee and drank it while staring out at the ocean through a rear-facing window. The tide was coming in and breakers were exploding against the rocky shore.
“You’re up early.”
He turned to see Alex standing there, barefoot and in the same white nightgown. Her hair was sleep tousled, and her eyes and face were puffy.
“Just woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.” He held up the coffee. “Want a cup?”
She shook her head and walked over to stand next to him. She gazed out the window, her features troubled; her eyes seemed to be searching for... something out there.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For not letting me do...”
“I don’t think you would have, regardless of whether I was there or not.”
Alex looked up at him. “Why? Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re stronger than you think. Because you reached a tipping point, but didn’t go over the edge.”
“Why do you believe that was?”
“Because you have a lot more you want to accomplish in life.”
The look she gave him was soul-breaking, even for the hardened seen-all-the-bad-in-life former soldier.
“I’m really, really... screwed up, Travis.” Tears slid down her cheeks. “And I don’t know if I can ever get back to... where I started.”
He put down his cup, turned to her, and gently took ahold of her shoulders. “For the record, and I’m not just saying this, we are all screwed up, Alex. All of us, including me. It’s only a matter of degrees. What happened to you was horrifying and traumatizing and unfair as hell. None of it had anything to do with you and everything to do with the person who did it. So with that said, I’ll answer your question: Can you ever get back to where you started? The answer is no.”
She shivered and started to say something, but he put a finger to her lips.
“You will be
“You sound like you speak from experience,” she said in a hollow voice.
“The Army’s fundamental concept is based on breaking down every soldier to nothing, absolutely nothing. And then rebuilding that soldier in the version of the human fighting machine they want and need to do the job. I’m not saying it’s perfect or right or anything. I’m just saying that’s the deal. Only I
“I don’t feel very tough right now.”