Taken by the Major: Chapter 27
I turned off the truck and slammed the steering wheel. “Fuck!”
I had driven home on autopilot. I didn’t have any place else to go, and Kenzie had shut me down.
Who the hell did she think she was to say that what I was doing was charitable? I did it because I liked her and I wanted her to like me. I did it because I could.
It wasn’t my fault that Ruby had no patience. I said I would get her a phone, but she had to wait a hot minute while I dealt with Allan. That kid got on my nerves some days.
I slammed out of the truck and stormed into the house, slamming that door behind me too.
“Allan!” I bellowed.
That soldier needed a come to Jesus moment. I was going to lay out exactly what my expectations of him in my house were and get his ass into therapy. He wasn’t going to be another statistic, not on my watch.
I banged into the dining room and grabbed Calvin’s baseball from next to my laptop. Right, this was the dining room, not an office. I had to get some work done on this house. There was no reason I didn’t have a proper office. I shook my head, clearing the unwanted intrusive thought. Right now, I didn’t even have time to focus on what was going on with Kenzie, and she was important.
I was concerned that Allan was entering a crisis. I wasn’t prepared for what that entailed. I don’t think anyone could ever be prepared for a friend hitting a tailspin and going into a mental crisis. But damn it, I was going to do my best. It’s the very least I owed him. That’s where all of my attention needed to be, not distracted with a house restoration or a relationship with a woman who couldn’t admit that I was her boyfriend.
“Allan!”
I shoved my way into the kitchen and froze.
“Officer on deck!” Allan shouted and then jumped to attention. His salute wobbled ever so slightly as he locked down all of his muscles.
“Fuck.”
He had shaved his beard. His jawline was dotted with spots of blood where he had nicked himself. And the shaggy hair on his head was gone. He now had a shaved head. But it was poorly done with some spots shaved down to the skin, while other patches of hair stuck up about a quarter of an inch.
He had on the clothes he wore most days, cargo work pants and a flannel over a T-shirt. He hadn’t dug out his uniform. I wasn’t sure if he had even brought that with him.
“Allan, you…” I was about to tell him he didn’t need to salute or stand at attention. He could stand down. But then I saw the firearm on the table right next to his thigh. “Fuck.”
I reached out to put my hand on the gun and slide it over to me. Allan clamped his hand over mine. For a skinny guy who had lost so much physical strength during his recovery, he was a strong sonofabitch.
“I can’t let you do that, Sir.”
I grimaced and released my hold on the gun. He relaxed his hand over mine, and I pulled away from him.
“I’m going to need your side arm, Soldier,” I said. I lowered my voice and returned to the barking cadence I used when we were out on a mission. “Hand it over.”
“Sir? I need my weapon, Sir.” Everything he said was like he was at full attention.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I couldn’t remember whether I was supposed to engage where the soldier was during an episode like this, or was I supposed to try to ease him back into reality?
“Allan?” I asked, lowering my volume, calming my tone.
Nothing. Okay, if he didn’t respond to the civilian me, he got Major Bowers.
“Soldier, you were given an order. Hand over your side arm.”
He stood there, staring into space, not focused on anything, arm still sharply angled at attention. “Sir, if I do that, Sir, I cannot complete my mission.”
“Your mission, Soldier, explain,” I barked.
I needed that gun, and I needed it now. His pills were upstairs. If I could knock him out, then what? Who did I take him to? Who did I call? He needed a specialist, not some local rural doctor who would put him on a psychiatric hold for seventy-two hours before sending him out into the world.
At least I had come home to this and not something worse. With the state of Allan’s mind, it could have been so much worse. At least this gave me time, time to think, time to act. But I needed that fucking gun.
“To eliminate the competition, Sir.”
“Competition?”
“Competition for the lady, Sir. Permission to speak freely, Sir?”
“Granted,” I barked. What the hell was he talking about? What lady?
“I can take care of Mac for you, Sir. I know I can. You just need to give me a chance.”
My gut clenched and twisted.
“And the lady?” I hesitated to ask, knowing he meant Kenzie. “You have plans for her?”
“No, Sir. She is your lady, Sir. I just want to help you secure her and eliminate that man who bothers her.”
Well, fuck. This was definitely bad. Very bad. It had occurred to me that Allan might be a threat to Ruby when she had been here. It’s why I rushed to get her home where she would be safe. But that thought had been more about her being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It hadn’t occurred to me that Allan would intentionally go after a person.
I held out my hand. “Side arm for inspection.”
He moved with sharp, precise action. I was on edge, ready to dive for the floor or across the table if he decided to open fire. He put the weapon in my hand. It was a familiar weight. As I chambered the round, the doorbell rang. I removed the clip and began to disassemble the weapon, ignoring the bell as it rang again. When it rang again, I decided to get rid of whoever it was since they weren’t getting the hint, I didn’t want to see them. I didn’t want to see anyone. But if Allan was a danger, then they needed to leave.
“At ease,” I commanded as I slid the gun into the waistband at my back. I would have to figure out where the gun had come from later.
Allan glided into formal at-ease posture.
The doorbell rang again, several times in quick succession.
“Coming!” I barked out. Now was not a good time. I would sign for whatever package and get back to Allan.
“What?” I demanded as I yanked open the door.
Kenzie stood there looking up at me. Her luminous eyes were rimmed with the telltale pink of crying.
“Fuck,” I said under my breath.
“Yeah, well I guess I don’t want to be here either,” she snapped.
I guess that wasn’t as far under my breath as I had hoped.
“I was thinking, and we should talk,” she started.
“Yeah, we should. Now is not a good time.” I couldn’t tell if Allan was moving in the kitchen or not.
“I wasted gas to come over here, Tate. You could at least listen to me.”
I tilted my head and turned. I thought I heard something in the kitchen. “Shush.”
When I turned back to her, her eyes blazed and her lips were pressed. “Did you just shush me?”
“Kenzie, you should go.”
Fuck. Her lower lip started to quiver, and tears pooled in those beautiful eyes of hers. I hadn’t meant to hurt her, but Allan needed help, and I was the only one around capable of doing so.
I reached out for her. She flinched.
Allan’s car careened around from the back side of the house. His wheels spun out on the gravel of the drive before he bounced off Kenzie’s car. He over-corrected and went off the other side of the pavement before centering back on the drive and speeding away.
“Fuck! You need to get Ruby, go home, and lock the door.”
I pulled the door closed behind me as I bolted for my truck. I left Kenzie standing there. I didn’t have time to explain. I may have had his gun, but he had been in the kitchen, and it was full of knives. I hadn’t secured them. Fuck, I should have secured them the second I returned from taking Ruby home. I had forgotten. Allan had been asleep, and at that point he had no longer been a threat.
The truck tore down the driveway. Kenzie still stood there on the porch.
I should have told her more.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Where the hell did Mac live? Would Allan go to the Burger Jeff first? That would be a lot of bad news if he got there before me in the mood he was in. Without a better idea of where to go, I headed there first.