A Prank Too Far

Chapter 15: Old War Wounds

Tawny bolted upright in her bed, chest heaving under the tank top she was wearing, a cold sweat slick on her skin and a wild look in her eyes in the dimly lit bedroom. She winced at the golden chink of light filtering in through the curtains and pulled on the first pair of sunglasses her hand landed on. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and let her feet touch the cold floor, hoping to ground herself in some small sense. Her hand shook so she buried her face in them to keep them occupied. Tangling her fingers through her thick wild hair when even that didn’t work.

Her shoulder ached.

“Hey, you alright?”

She jumped, startled, and looked up at Lorcain, telling herself she didn’t have a guilty expression on her face. He was standing in the doorway to her bedroom. Sleep mussed in his shorts and tee shirt, frowning at her.

“I’m fine. Go back to bed.” She insisted.

“I heard you yell.”

“There was a spider.”

“You’re not afraid of spiders.”

Tawny looked at him hard through the lenses of her glasses. “Never too late to learn.” She closed the discussion. “Where’s your father?” She pulled on her dressing gown, letting the cool silk slide over her shoulders.

“Downstairs cookin’ breakfast.”

Tawny nodded and squeezed her son’s shoulder gently before propelling him out the door. “Go and order me something from the head chef, I’ll be down in a minute.” He looked at her a long moment and she arched one red brow. “Go.”

“Going.” Lorcain knew that tone and he knew better than to disagree. He should have still, technically, been in the bad books for laying one on her boss and she hadn’t even sniped at him…something was most definitely up. He spun on a bare heel and then slipped down the narrow staircase to the pub downstairs that Michael ran during the day, maybe dad knew something.

Tawny scrubbed a hand over her face and let the shiver steal over her with icy cold fingers. She rubbed her arms and knew she wouldn’t be feeling warm any time today. The flashes of the nightmare, the sounds of screams and the lurid splatter of blood caused her to jerk without thought or intention to do so. She scowled and huddled in closer to herself, standing alone in the cool pale light of the hallway and wondering why she still couldn’t bring herself to talk about it.

Michael knew. He had to. He had known that after Bosnia…she’d been different. After Bosnia she’d retired and vowed never to fight again. After Bosnia she had done everything in her power to discourage Lorcain’s idolisation of the armed forces. Thank God he had enough of herself and his father in him to question every order that was thrown his way or else he would have probably enlisted on his last birthday. Tawny shivered anew at that thought. No, her children would never go through what she had. That was why she had done it.

So they wouldn’t have to.

“Mammon?”

Tawny turned and looked down, smiling at her daughter without forcing it. Madeline, her little beauty. “Bebe.” She answered and stooped to pick her daughter up for a much needed early morning cuddle. She held Maddy tightly and Maddy pressed a wet kiss to her mother’s cheek, then held up Bear (who actually appeared to be some kind of rabbit) for the same kiss treatment. Tawny obliged, knowing it wouldn’t be worth her morning not to and then headed down the stairs.

She knew she was far from alright. She had many scars, both inside and out, and healing was never going to be an overnight thing for her. She was improving though. Mere months ago she would have awakened the entire street with her screams after a nightmare like that. Now, not even her husband noticed them.

For which she was grateful.

The kitchen was, as usual, chaos. Michael stood by the hotplate cooking up a storm of all manner of things and Tawny slid into one of the booths closest to the counter and the kitchen doors to wait to be served her breakfast. Michael was, in all likelihood, still up from the night before. The pub was a thriving business that started late and finished early. Which suited Tawny fine, she had needed her solitude last night.
She loved her husband. She loved Michael so much it hurt sometimes, but last night she had needed to be alone.

“Coffee.”

The steaming mug was held under her nose and Tawny had the choice of either drinking it or wearing it. She chose to imbibe.

“Maddy, go and find Lorcain and make sure he’s not burning the eggs.” Michael lifted their daughter from Tawny’s arms and then slid his huge lithe body into the newly available space. He pressed a searing kiss to Tawny’s throat. She tilted her head back and hummed. Coffee sliding warm down her throat and his lips nibbling hot at her neck. There were worse ways to wait for breakfast she was sure.

“Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Our son should learn to keep his mouth shut.” Tawny’s cup clunked to the table and she looked at Michael seriously. “It’s fine.”

“So you admit there is an ‘it’?”

Tawny’s eyes narrowed. The man was impossible sometimes.

“Cain’s just worried about you. So am I.” He let her lean back in the booth, giving her the space she needed, but his hands found her feet, pulling them onto his lap and rubbing soothing circles onto the smooth skin in a way he knew she loved. She had been known to do many, many things for a foot rub in the past. “I think we need to talk about what happened in Bosnia.” He finally said and every single one of Tawny’s muscles went rigid.

“What’s brought this on?” She demanded sharply.

“Did you hear me in bed last night?”

“You didn’t come to bed last night.” Tawny frowned, this was a trick question. What was he playing at?

“We shut down here early. I was in bed by two, back up at seven. You didn’t even twitch when I came into the room…then you started thrashing around and screaming. Do you remember waking up hysterical?”

Tawny turned away and bit her lip. No, she didn’t remember any of that. “Did…?”

“Lorcain heard. Maddy had her Pooh Bear music box on and she sleeps like the dead anyway.” Michael scrubbed a hand through his long raven hair and huffed out a breath. “I’m not asking for gory details, I’m not wanting you to break your heart on this all over again, but I do want you to lean on me if you need to.” He ducked his head until she lifted hers and met her eyes. “Okay?”

Tawny looked at him and knew she could never tell him the horrific truth. She smiled, gently, and lied smoothly to his face.

“Alright.”


$inister $cribe


House did his best to clear up the damage in the hallway, but there was only so much a man with a cane can do without aid of a glue gun. He managed to clear the shattered mirror away, put the picture back on the wall and remove her shoe from the plasterwork. He winced at the hole and moved the umbrella stand to cover it as best he could. He was negotiating with the hallway table, trying to convince it to stand on three legs, when the drawer gave out and clattered to the floor. He cursed, his guilt at taking her so hard (well, there was more than a little pride mixed in with that too) and trashing her hallway was waning fast and he didn’t need the added aggravation of her waking up to a wrecked hallway.

He had left her asleep on the bed and planned to be back there as soon as possible…just as soon as he’d cleared up the scattered mail that had spewed from the drawer upon impact with the floor. He jammed the drawer back into its housing and stuffed bills, junk mail and a postcard from Cuba back into the drawer with barely a second glance but then his fingers grasped on something thicker and he stilled.

Maybe the latest Victoria’s Secret catalogue. Her lingerie collection was extensive but perhaps he could now have some input into what she ordered. He should get input after all now that he had told her…

House started to hurriedly demand of himself that he not start freaking out about what he had half said to her the night before about needing her. All thought abruptly stalled though upon spotting the winged caduceus symbol next to the postal mark on the plastic wrapped package. The top had been half ripped open, like she had started to open it and then thought better of it. House hesitated, something icy and feeling a lot like fear sliding down his spine. It was from a specialised clinic from somewhere in the city, he didn’t recognise the name.

Why would she have this sent to her house?

House swallowed hard. If she were intending to talk business with the clinic then she would have contacted them through the hospital and she hadn’t done that. Which meant it was personal. House stared at the package. It was the size of a fashion magazine but he could feel differing shapes inside over that. Like an information pack on a medical condition. The kind of information pack you got when you had just been informed of a life changing medical condition.

House stared at it. What the hell was wrong with her?

TBC...ooooh