Special Forces. Only problem with that is even being SF there should’ve been more in those files. That’s concerning. But more, Dylan found an assault charge filed against Belview that’d been buried. So we’re moving forward cautiously.”
I knew nothing about service records or files. I knew what they were of course, but even working at the VA I still didn’t know what should or shouldn’t be in them. But Trey would and my dad absolutely would. So I wasn’t concerning myself with that; what I was honing in on was the assault charge.
“Assault?”
“Wasn’t pretty. He nearly beat a man to death outside a bar in Tucson.”
I was stunned into silence. Not because Jake beat a man outside a bar, which freaked me the freak out. But I was shocked at Trey’s forthcomingness. Sure, he’d told me as gently as he could and he did it softly to cushion my response, but he’d still told me.
“Was he arrested?”
“No. Whole thing swept under the rug. No police report.”
How in the world was that possible?
“Then how’d Dylan find it?”
“He found a notation in Belview’s file. Just enough to ping Dylan’s interest. He dug around and found the police report—unsolved. Belview’s name not listed. But the dates match; Belview and his team were in Tucson on a training exercise. Description matches Belview. Witnesses’ statements all the same. The victim stumbled, knocked into Belview, tried to apologize. Even offered to buy Belview a beer. Belview got in the victim’s face, an argument ensued, and Belview dragged the victim outside.
“Question is, if someone in Belview’s chain of command knew there’d been an assault, why wasn’t disciplinary action taken, and why wasn’t he turned over to local authorities? Hospital records show the victim wasn’t just fucked up, he was fucked up. Left on the street barely breathing, laid up in a coma for weeks. Someone covered that shit up. Don’t give a fuck why. But knowing what we know—what we know he’s capable of, the training he has, and the fact he’s got zero self-control—we’re going forward cautiously and not taking any chances.”
More honesty I couldn’t believe he gave me.
There was a long stretch of silence, so long Trey called my name. I didn’t answer; I was too busy sifting through my feelings. I didn’t know what to make of this, any of it. I was creeped out that my ex-boyfriend, a guy I’d convinced myself I’d loved, the guy I’d given my virginity to, had it in him to beat a man almost to death outside of a bar in Tucson.
Tucson, Arizona. I didn’t understand why that mattered to me, but it did. Jake hadn’t been overseas when this occurred, he hadn’t been fighting for his country, protecting his unit, protecting innocent civilian lives in whatever foreign country he’d been sent to. Jake had been on U.S. soil, in a bar, in Tucson, Arizona, and he’d lost control; using his fists, he’d almost killed someone.
“Baby?” Trey called again and I lifted my gaze from the counter to his concerned stare.
Something struck me—he hadn’t moved. He’d stayed in his seat. And I searched back over the last week to one other time I’d gotten irritated with him and he’d stayed feet away from me then, too. As a matter of fact, he’d backed up, putting more distance between us. And he’d gentled his voice then, too. And he’d softened his features.
“What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is, a few days ago you told me you were antsy not being able to go out and do things. You didn’t mention it specifically, but I know you like your kickboxing class. It’s today, I made a call last night so you wouldn’t miss it. Bass was happy to help so it worked out.”
That was sweet, made sweeter by him calling Bass, who I didn’t think was his favorite person. After what happened at the gym, I figured Trey had a few things to say to Bass that would probably freak me out and tick me off so I wasn’t going to think about it. But that was not what I was asking about.
“Why are you sitting over there?”
“Not tracking, Addy.”
His response made me second-guess my sanity. Perhaps I was imagining him acting strange when I showed the barest hint of annoyance. But I wasn’t, this was not Trey. I’d known him for months, and in those months we’d argued, a lot. And he’d always gone head-to-head with me, he’d never gentled his tone, he’d shown me his frustration. It was