Cash was out of the Jeep before it came to a complete stop. He still wore his dirty fatigues, his boots were caked with dirt and sand from their three-day stint in the desert, but he didn’t give a shit about his appearance at the moment. He all but sprinted up to the second floor, his pulse drumming in tune to his hurried footsteps.
Worry and rage mingled in his blood to form a cocktail of nerves. Jen had said she was okay, but if so much as a hair on her head had been harmed, Cash was going to rip Psycho McGee’s throat out, even if he had to break into the bastard’s jail cell to do it.
“Jen!” he called as he dove through the front door. “Sweetheart, you here?”
No answer.
His heart jammed in his throat. Had she left? She’d said on the message that she and Annabelle were heading back here, but granted, that had been hours ago.
What if she was gone?
What if she’d changed her mind about being with him?
Cold reality splashed him in the face as he realized he wouldn’t blame her at all for that. He hadn’t been there for her when she’d needed him. And wasn’t that the crux of her no-military thing? That she wanted a man who’d fucking be there?
When he entered the living room and found it empty, Cash’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. A quick peek into his bedroom revealed another empty room.
So that was it. She wasn’t here.
“Cash?”
He jumped in surprise, then spun around to find Jen by the bathroom doorway.
For one long moment, he was frozen in place. His gaze focused on her swollen left eye, already a ghastly shade of purple. Her lush mouth, pursed in a worried frown. Her long blonde hair falling over one shoulder.
“You’re here,” he blurted out.
She cast him a strange look. “Of course I am.”
Cash flew to her, his heart pounding incessantly as he yanked her into his arms and held her so tight he heard her gasp for air. But he couldn’t help himself. She felt so small and fragile in his arms. He breathed in the flowery aroma of her shampoo, the sweet feminine scent that was uniquely Jen, and his heart lurched in his chest.
He pulled back and gently stroked her cheek, right beneath her swollen eye. “Fuck,” he mumbled. “Oh, fuck, Jen. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Her voice trembled. “It looks worse than it feels.”
The sight of that black eye sent a bolt of pure fury up his spine. “I’m going to drown the bastard,” he hissed.
A faint smile played over her lips. “First of all, drowning is Carson’s thing. Second, Brendan was arrested, so I suggest we let the cops deal with him. And third—what are you doing home? I figured you’d be gone for longer.”
“I told you it was a minor op,” he reminded her. Self-recrimination poured into him, and he swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
Surprise flickered in her eyes. “Why are you sorry?”
The lump in his throat was so massive he could barely get a word out. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he croaked. “Christ, I should’ve been here, but I wasn’t and look what happened—that son of a bitch hurt you.”
“Cash—”
His entire body burned with shame. “Go ahead and do it.”
Now she looked wary. “What are you talking about?”
“Break up with me. I wouldn’t blame you if you changed your mind about being with me.” Misery hung on his every word. “You were right—you need a full-time partner. A man who’s going to be there for you and protect you and—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Jen gaped at Cash, wondering if he’d hit his head during that mission or something. Because he was talking like a crazy person. Kind of looked like a crazy person too, with that wild look in his blue eyes and the dark scruff covering his face. She’d been so happy to see him when she’d walked out of the bathroom and spotted him in the hall, but the more he babbled on about breaking up, the unhappier she became.
“No, I’m not kidding,” he mumbled. “I wasn’t here for you, and isn’t that what you were afraid of? That you’d be forced to handle everything alone? And you had to fucking handle being assaulted! Holy hell, I should have—”
“Jeez, cowboy, would you shut up already? Nobody’s breaking up with anybody.”
Cash faltered, and a flicker of confusion replaced the feral look in his eyes. “No?”
“No.” With a sigh, she reached up to cup his chin, the stubble there abrading her palms. “It’s not your fault that Brendan showed up. If anyone’s to blame for this, it’s me, for not being more cautious when I went back to my apartment.”
Cash still looked dubious. “You’re not angry that I wasn’t there to protect you?”
“I protected myself just fine,” she replied. “And you know what? As messed up as this sounds, I’m happy Brendan showed up this morning. Now the cops are involved and they can deal with him, and besides, the whole encounter was proof that I can take care of myself. The self-defense training my family shoved down my throat paid off, and I got out of the situation with nothing but a black eye when it could’ve been a lot worse.”