Page 9 of Jacques

He found the filters, inserted one into the coffee maker and reached for the can of ground coffee. When he lifted it, he found an embroidered Army Ranger tab behind it. Just seeing the tab brought back a rush of memories from his time on active duty, when he’d proudly trained and fought with the 75th Ranger Regiment, often alongside Navy SEALs and Delta Force operatives.

He held it up. “Is this yours?” he asked, turning to face her with the tab in his hand.

Danny glanced up, a forkful of potato salad halfway to her mouth. She stared at the Ranger tab for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah.” Her gaze and her fork lowered to her plate.

His brow twisted. “Did someone give it to you? I might’ve run into him on active duty.”

She shook her head and met his gaze. “No one gave it to me.” Her chin lifted. “I earned it.”

His eyes widened. “Well, damn, woman, how is it the first time I’m hearing this?” He grinned. “That explains a lot.”

“What does it explain?” she challenged.

“How you face-planted Bobby Ray, and how you don’t take shit from men trying to run rough-shod over you. Your hand-to-hand combat kills. I’m impressed. Not many women make it through Ranger training.”

“Not many are given the chance.”

Jacques stared down at the Ranger tab, stunned and yet not completely shocked. “I should’ve known you had some kind of training in order to defend yourself against a hulking man like Bobby Ray. Did you deploy?”

She shook her head. “No. I got out shortly after they pinned on my tab. I learned even more self-defense skills after leaving the Army.”

He glanced up and met Danny’s gaze. “Most folks who make it through Ranger school go on to deploy. What happened?”

“I was slotted to attend the Defense Language Institute Foreign Language Center. I was slated to extend my commitment in order to go.” She shrugged. “I chose not to reup. I got out and moved back to my home of record, Louisiana.”

Jacques read so much more into her flat tone and noncommittal shrug. Though he wanted to grill her for information, he forced himself to turn away, scoop coffee grounds into the filter and pour water into the machine. Once the coffee was brewing, he took his plate to the sofa and sat beside her. Not too close, but not too far. “Look,” he said, his gaze capturing and holding hers, “I might be wrong, and I have no right to pry, but I get the feeling that whatever made you decide to leave your Army career is what’s behind your panic attacks.”

She held his gaze for a long moment and then turned to stare toward the corner of the room. “I had no choice.” Danny set her barely touched plate of food on the coffee table, her face pale, the shadows beneath her eyes deepening. She clutched her hands together. “It was my career or my brother’s. I couldn’t let anything wreck my brother’s career.”

“Why would you have to choose?” Jacques set his plate beside hers and turned, his knees almost touching hers. “Did you get into some kind of trouble?”

“No,” she said. “I was clean. I did all the right things. I was excited about my future, having just made it through Ranger school.”

“What happened?” Jacques couldn’t help himself. He wanted to understand. To help.

“I’ve never told anyone. It’s too...” She rocked herself, her movements bordering on frenetic.

Jacques reached out. “Give me your hand. I won’t hurt you or ask for more. Just let me hold your hand for a moment. I promise to give it back.”

She frowned at his extended hand. Then she laid her palm in his, the rocking motion slowing to a stop.

“You don’t have to tell me anything. Just know that I would never hurt you. I just want to help. You’re safe with me.”

“Safe?” Danny snorted softly, her eyes welling with unshed tears. “I haven’t felt safe for a long time.” She stared down at their clasped hands.

“Did someone hurt you or threaten you?”

She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering, “Both.”

Though anger rose in Jacques’ chest, he gently squeezed her hand and forced his voice to soften. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” she said. “You didn’t do it.”

“No, but it had to have been a man who did. It grieves me that one man could make you feel unsafe around all men.” He didn’t say anything for a long moment.

Her fingers curled around his. “I wouldn’t have told anyone, but I knew we were having a drug test prior to shipping out. If I didn’t report to sick call, and they tested me, I was afraid they’d accuse me of taking drugs.” She snorted. “I didn’t know until after the fact that date rape drugs aren’t screened in military drug tests. They sent me to the local hospital where they ran a rape kit. No semen.”

“He wore protection,” Jacques said. “Premeditated.”