Late afternoon rolled around, and Theresa showed up to pick up the children, much to Arianna’s dismay. The little girl had so much fun with the guys that Meredith said she could come over the next weekend as well, if it was okay with her mother. Theresa, seeing how much her daughter had opened up, quickly agreed---with the provision that if anything came up, Meredith would reschedule.
Hugs and kisses were liberally dispensed by Meredith, and Arianna actually hugged each of the guys when she left. After she closed the door, Meredith sank against it and stared at the five guys in front of her.
“Anyone want anything to drink?”
Nick opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it.
“Spit it out, Nick.” Meredith tilted her head as she looked at him.
“How did you get the scars?”
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to look at the young man who’d asked the question. “That discussion definitely calls for a drink.”
She walked into the den, with the guys following her. She detoured past the bar and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels before heading to the sofa. Opening the bottle, she took a swig, grimacing as the alcohol burned a path down her throat. Each man winced at the expression on her face and worried how bad the story would be if she was drinking JD straight from the bottle.
“You might want to sit down for this one.” Her voice echoed in the quiet room, and they sat down at her request.
“In the beginning, I was quite naïve.” She stared at the bottle and rubbed the label as she began to speak.
“When I joined, I believed in truth, justice, and the American Way. For three years, nothing really changed that belief that right would always prevail. When Desert Shield started, I did work over here, but was sent to Saudi right before Storm began.”
“One morning, I was out driving around, checking out some of the terrain when we were ambushed. Jenkins and Matthews were with me, and I know we weren’t over the border. The Iraqis had snuck in hoping to score some supplies and ended up with us. There were sixteen of them, and by the time we were captured, only twelve of us walked out of there.”
“Did you lose anyone?”
Meredith shook her head. “Nope, all casualties were on their side.”
“Casualties?” Brian leaned forward. “How many survived?”
“Like I said, only twelve of us walked out of there. I don’t know how many were killed outright or were just left to die.”
He sat back and looked away from her. Taking another swallow, she continued with her story.
“When they saw the maps, they immediately branded us as spies---which was technically true, I suppose. Took us to a prison about forty miles on the other side of the border. Hassad ibn Fallah ibn Rashul.”
“What does that mean?” Nick wrapped his arms around the knees he’d pulled up to his chest. His expression was rapt, and Meredith hated the fact that she was going to expose him to the dark, ugly side of military life.
“He was the commander of the prison. Never met a more vicious person in my life, and I’ve met some nasty people. He took great pride in his position, and he was delighted to see American spies, even if a woman was in charge. He put us in a cell with four other Americans that had been captured. That’s where I met Tony. He was a warrant officer, so he’d taken charge of the other three. When I got there, I took over. Johnson, Smith, and Ward were the other three, all FNKs who’d gotten very unlucky.”
“FNKs?” Kevin took the offered bottle and took a sip, wrinkling his nose at the taste.
“Fuckin’ New Kids.” Meredith took the bottle back and passed it over to Howie.
“Ward was really scared. Just graduated from high school and boot, he was so green he was practically a walking advertisement for Green Giant. They’d only been there a day, but nothing had really happened to them, other than the pleasantries of *asking* what they had been doing.”
“I tried to reassure them as best I could, but I was pretty new to this situation, too. I did believe that they were going to start getting ugly. Later that day, the three of us were asked why we were there, and gave the standard name, rate, and serial number. We did this little song and dance for a couple of days. Rashul was getting seriously pissed that we weren’t cooperating. I mean, women are not really respected over there, and to have a woman in command defying him was a great insult. When we were escorted back to our cell that night, Rashul smiled at me, and I knew we had come to the point where he was not going to take no for an answer. It was going to get ugly.”
“Ward was chattering more than usual, and I told him he really needed to get some sleep. He looked at me, and I guess the tone of my voice gave something away because he looked really scared and wanted to know what was going on. I told him I thought that it was about to get nasty, and that he would need to get as much rest as he could now because I didn’t think they would let us have much in the future.”
“Before they came to get us the next morning, I told them that no matter what happened, they shouldn’t give in. I told them I was afraid they would try and use me to break them, and that I knew the risks when I joined, and that I was willing to do whatever was necessary to protect them and the others back at the base. I told them I fully expected to cry and scream, but that, with God’s help, I was *not* giving in. I made them promise the same thing.”
Meredith stared out the back door and watched the sun begin to set. By this time, the bottle of Jack had made its way around the four older guys and was sitting on the floor in front of Nick.
“You know, the human body is an amazing thing.” Meredith looked at each man sitting in front of her.
“How so?” Howie’s voice was quiet, as if he was afraid to know the answer.
“Because it can take an incredible beating and still keep going. They started on us the next day. Rashul did it in shifts. He’d take a couple of us, ask us questions, then beat the hell out of us when we didn’t answer. After he’d gone through the entire group a couple of times, he decided to get more creative with his torture. Knives, whips, lit cigarettes---whatever would cause pain, he’d take pleasure in using on us. He’d have this…awful smile on his face as he ran the edge of his knife down my back. I think I even threw up on him, the pain was so incredible. I know I passed out, and I know I screamed.”
Meredith fell silent as she remembered those horrible days in Rashul’s office. She heard the cap being unscrewed and looked up to find Nick taking a drink from the bottle, his eyes closed. Moving to the floor, she sat down beside him and grabbed the bottle, her body leaning against his legs for support. Taking a deep breath, she continued with the story.
“Around day five, I think, Rashul decided that he was going to use me to make the others talk. Apparently, he’d watched entirely too many John Wayne movies and figured that if he made them listen to me scream, they’d give in. When he’d finish and throw me back in the cell, he’d ask them if they had anything they wanted to say. If I was conscious, I’d look at them, and they’d know. So they didn’t. On the sixth day, he dragged me to his office, ripped off my clothes, and hung me from chains. He then had the guards bring the others in to watch the session. I could see them cringing with every blow of the whip and each slice of the knife. When I had screamed myself hoarse, he looked at the six men standing in front of him and asked if they had anything to say. I looked up and mouthed the word ‘no’ at them. Tony looked at me, looked at Rashul, then looked at the other guys. Rashul demanded to know if they had anything to say, so Tony looked at him and said ‘nice tits’.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in, but when they did, she could feel Nick’s body shaking. Looking at him, Meredith realized he was laughing, as were the others. That laughter broke some of the tension that had surrounded everyone as she told them her story. They knew it wasn’t over, but it was a relief for the moment. When the laughter died down, she began to speak again.
“That really pissed Rashul off. I had a bad feeling about the whole situation.”
“Bad feeling?” AJ was incredulous.
“I knew it was about to take a deadly turn. The look in Rashul’s eyes when they led me away, he was beyond sanity. We had defied him again and again, and he had reached the end of his rope. When we were taken back to the cell, one of the guards did leave some extra water, and Tony wiped off my back as best he could, letting me drink the rest of it. I looked at him, and the rest of them, and I told them what I was thinking. I said that he would probably kill us, but that I refused to curl up and die. I would fight, as hard as I could. They agreed with me, that giving up was not a choice, and that we would probably end up dead, but that we would not give him the satisfaction of watching us cower in fear. That night was spent talking about family and friends; trying to make peace with the wrongs we had done to others. Matthews accepted the Lord that night, and we used what little water we had to do a sort of baptism on him since he wanted a bit of a ceremony. We cried and we laughed and we hugged. I learned all of the words to Louie, Louie that night.”
She smiled at the memory of them singing and the guards yelling at them in Arabic, which only made them sing louder.
“The next morning, the sun was rising over the camp, and it was a glorious day. We were pushed into the middle of the camp and lined up. Rashul strutted around and pointed and spouted off whatever rhetoric he’d been fed about how wonderful the Iraqi government was and how evil Americans were. I think I laughed at him, because the next thing I remember was lying on the ground after he’d backhanded me. I got back up and looked at him, realizing what a petty little man he really was. I told him to get a fuckin’ clue and to shove his ideology up his ass ‘cause we weren’t buying it and that he’d never, *ever* be as courageous as any of the men standing with me.” Without realizing it, Meredith leaned closer to Nick, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, his quiet acceptance giving her the strength to finish her story.
“He pulled out his gun and pointed it at me. I told him to go ahead and shoot because I wasn’t afraid of some whiny-ass dickhead. The rest of the guards raised their weapons and aimed at us. I heard this popping sound---don’t know from what---and I took out the guard closest to me, grabbed his gun. I laid some cover fire to keep my men from being hurt any more, herding them towards a truck to get them out of the way and under some protection. Matthews and Smith pulled weapons from two more guards, and that helped out a bit, but it was getting desperate. We’re were each down to our last magazine when the sound of helos filled the air, and Seals were rappelling down into the camp. Bullets started flying, people screaming, blood flowing. I saw Tony get shot in the leg, and then I saw Rashul aim at him. I pushed Tony out of the way, and that’s when I got this scar.”
She rubbed the left side of her body. “Adrenaline is a funny thing, because I didn’t stop moving after I was shot. I was so focused on the guards in front of me, I missed one on the side, and was hit in the shoulder. By this time, Ward and Johnson had weapons as well, and we were slowly making our way to the rescue troops. I heard this scream behind me and turned around to find Rashul running towards me. I pushed Tony forward, out of the way and swung the rifle, catching Rashul in the stomach. Rage is also a funny thing, because he kept on coming. He tackled me, hitting me wherever he could. I hit him, too, long enough for him to raise up and for me to see his knife in his belt. I grabbed it at the same time he did, and I know we struggled. Curran can tell you what happened exactly, but all I remember is looking up into Rashul’s hate-filled eyes; then looking down into his blank eyes as I pulled my hands away from the knife in his throat. I have no recollection of those inbetween moments.”
The grip on her shoulder tightened, and Meredith patted Nick’s hand to reassure him. “My therapist tells me that’s my way of coping with it. Andy used to tell me that the important thing is I survived. That’s how I met him, by the way. He was with one of the rescue teams---on Curran’s team as a matter of fact. They were all there for me, especially when I got back home.”
“I guess that explains the hospital food comment.” AJ stared at he, trying to reconcile what he’d just heard with the woman he’d met.
Meredith grinned. “Yeah, what happened after we were rescued was another drama in and of itself.”
“What happened?” Brian stretched out on the sofa, pulling a pillow under his head.
“We were brought back to one of our camps for immediate triage and to get us ready for transport to better medical facilities in Germany. When we got there, the press was everywhere because we’d been reported missing. We each got a chance to call our families. I remember talking to my mom and telling her I was banged up a bit, but that I was fine.”
Howie snorted and looked at me in surprise. “Fine? Shot and beaten, and you were fine?”
“What was I going to say? ‘Hey, mom, your baby’s been tortured and shot, but it’s no biggie’? She’d have been on the next plane to Germany, and I didn’t want to worry her any more than necessary until I found out my exact condition. The media, of course, wanted every juicy tidbit. We told them that there would be no pictures until after we got to the hospital in Germany, but people from CBS News didn’t listen and showed us being loaded out of there. Here I am, bloody, bruised, carried on a stretcher, and they’re blasting this picture across the world. My mother *loves* Dan Rather, so, of course she was watching. When I woke up in the hospital after my surgery, she was the first person I saw. Of course, I caught hell because I didn’t tell her everything, but she understood. We made a deal to never watch CBS News again, and we haven’t.”
“That sucks.” Nick finally spoke up, and Meredith laughed.
“Yeah, they weren’t too happy when we refused to answer their questions at the press conference later that week. All seven of us were very unhappy with the way they acted, so we stuck together.”
Meredith got up off the floor and took the bottle back to the bar. “You know, I learned some important things from that whole experience.”
“Like what?” Kevin watched her move around the room, picking up and putting down knick-knacks.
“Well, I’d always been spiritual. You know, believing in God, accepting Jesus as my savior; but I really learned that you don’t have Jesus, until *all* you have is Jesus.”
Brian nodded, remembering his heart surgery and knowing how much he had relied on his faith to make it through.
“And that which does not kill you makes you stronger.”
She held a picture in her hands, caressing the glass. It was her wedding picture. Brian saw it in her hands.
“How long were you married?”
Meredith smiled. “Almost five years. Like I said, he was on one of the teams that showed up to rescue us. After I got home and got settled in a bit, he showed up in my office with daisies and asked me to dinner. I couldn’t say no.”
She held the picture to her chest and wandered over to the sofa to sit down. After a moment, she laid it down on her lap, and Kevin looked at it.
“You look happy.”
“I was, even as much pain as I was in, I was happy. *He* made me happy.”
There was such joy in her voice when she spoke of Andy, and they couldn’t help but smile at it.
“You know, he proposed to me on our first date.”
“First date?” Nick was shocked. He couldn’t imagine anyone knowing right away that they’d found the one person that made them complete.
Meredith nodded. “Yep. He asked me, and I said no. He wanted to know why.”
The words stopped abruptly, and Howie put his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him, her eyes lost.
“Why?” Howie’s voice was quiet.
“Because of the nightmares and the pain and the fear and the worry and the anger.” She couldn’t sit still anymore and got up to walk around the room.
“My body hurt so much from the wounds and the exhaustion. My head hurt from spending too much time trying to explain what happened and how it could have been different. They ran through so many ‘what-if” situations, I thought I was going to scream. My heart hurt from listening to the screams of the others. I wanted so badly to help them, and I couldn’t do it. I had no control over what Rashul was doing, other than giving in. And my heart hurt because I couldn’t do that. My soul hurt because of what I did. Even though I knew that I had to defend my men and myself, I still ached with the knowledge that I had killed. My hands were holding the knife that I had buried in his throat. And my spirit cried because part of me took delight in the fact that I caused him pain.”
A tear slipped down Meredith’s cheek as she looked out the window, and they saw the moonlight illuminate the path it took down her face.
“It just poured out of me, and Andy listened to it all, holding me when I couldn’t stand anymore and drying the tears I shed. I told him that as long I was consumed by this, I didn’t have room for his love. He told me that he would wait for me, because I was worth it.”
She set the picture back down on the mantle, kissing her finger and pressing it against his image. “About a year after, I showed up at his apartment, got down on one knee, and asked him to marry me. He asked me about the nightmares and the pain, and I told him that I was wrong about not having room for his love. I had realized that *his* love had room enough for me and I wasn’t going to waste another minute without that love. We got married two weeks later.”
“What happened to him?” AJ was almost afraid to ask the question for fear of causing Meredith more pain.
She closed her eyes as she remembered that day. “I had gotten home early because my training missions had finished ahead of schedule, and Andy was due back from a trip. I wanted to surprise him. We’d been thinking about starting a family, now that we were a little older and a little more settled. I had the wine chilling in an ice bucket, candles lit, lasagna in the oven. The doorbell rang, and I answered it. Curran was standing there, this look of defeat on his face, and I knew. He didn’t have to say a word. I left him standing there, walked into the dining room, grabbed the bottle of wine, and heaved it at the wall. If you look about three feet from the door, you can still see the slight indention I left.”
Brian closed his eyes, trying not to think about everything he’d heard that night. She’d survived the prison, found love, then lost it. It didn’t seem fair. Meredith looked around the room at the quiet men, then found herself staring at Nick as he studied her.
“That’s why you were pissed yesterday when the team was in trouble.”
She nodded, a little surprised at his perception. “Yeah, that’s why. Having your husband killed on a training mission kind of makes you want to ensure that you do everything you can possibly do to make them safe.”
He nodded his understanding.
Meredith looked at the clock, finding herself incredibly tired. “Guys, I’m going to bed. Please lock up before you hit the sack, ‘kay?”
Kevin nodded, reaching out to grab her hand as she passed by him on her way to the door. He held it, gently squeezing it before letting go. She smiled at him, then at the rest of the guys.
“Goodnight.”
The goodnights followed her down the hall. Meredith went into her room and made her way into the bathroom for a shower. She scrubbed herself, almost feeling Rashul’s hands on her body. When she finished, she toweled off and climbed into bed, praying for a dreamless sleep.
Each man continued to stay where he was, trying to wrap his mind around the tale that had been told.
“Unfuckingbelievable.” AJ blew out a sigh.
“Yeah.” Howie sighed, too, the thought of what Meredith had gone through almost making him sick.
“I’m going to bed.” Nick got up off the floor and walked out of the room, with the others staring after him.
“Think he’ll be okay?” Brian sat up, pushing the pillow to one side.
“Yeah, it’s just a lot to deal with.” Kevin stood as well. “Night, guys.”
Each of them made their way to their rooms with few words spoken.
**BsB**BsB**BsB**BsB**BsB**BsB**BsB**BsB**BsB**BsB**BsB**BsB**BsB**
Meredith sat up, biting off the scream that was bubbling in her throat. She knew when she told her story that the dreams would come, but she’d hoped that she’d be wrong. Knowing it was useless to try and go back to sleep, she got up and slipped into a pair of shorts and a tank top. Having guests in the house made it difficult to walk around nude, and she didn’t want to shock any of them if they happened upon her before she made it back to her room.
Meredith wandered into the kitchen, made herself some peanut butter toast, and poured a glass of milk. Gathering her snack, she headed for the den. A quick press on the stereo remote introduced the soft, calming sounds of waves crashing on the sand, interspersed with a gentle melody designed to calm and soothe. She ate and drank, almost without paying attention. So caught up in her thoughts, she was surprised when Nick sat down beside her. She looked at him for a moment, her head tipped to the side.
“Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you’d turned left instead of right?”
“Zigged instead of zagged?” He looked back at her.
She grinned softly as she realized he’d followed her train of thought. “Yeah. If I hadn’t enlisted, if I hadn’t gone into ONI, if I hadn’t turned left on that road instead of just driving straight back to the base.”
They were quiet again as they thought about things. Nick stared out the window.
“If I hadn’t gone to that audition, I wouldn’t be here now.”
“Do you wish that a lot?” She turned to face him, the lights from the pool area casting shadows on his face.
“Sometimes, especially after I’ve had another fight with my mother.” He rubbed the sofa with his finger, finding he couldn’t bring himself to look at her while they talked.
“Do you fight a lot?” The idea was foreign to her. She got along well with her mother, her whole family.
“More lately. I see her driving Aaron, and I’m afraid of what’ll happen to him. I had the guys to kind of help me stay grounded. He doesn’t have anyone.”
“He has you.”
“I’m always off doing something with the group---whether it’s touring or recording or PR or something. And when I’m home, he’s off doing something, getting sucked farther and farther into this business. And it’s like my mother just keeps pushing. Now that I’m on my own, and she doesn’t have much say in my life, it’s like she can’t be bothered. Sometimes, I wonder…”
She waited for him to finish, but he just stared out the window. “What do you wonder?”
“Sometimes I wonder if she would love me even if I weren’t Nick Carter of the Backstreet Boys.”
Meredith was shocked at the question. The thought of loving a child only for what he could give you was mind boggling. She opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it. She didn’t have any words of wisdom, and she had no basis for comparison.
Reaching out, she patted his hand. He looked at her, seeing the caring in her eyes, feelings that had no basis in his star status.
“I think you would have been a good mom.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you. I think I would have done my best.” She studied him some more.
“You know, you remind me a lot of Andy. It’s been a little bit disconcerting because I imagine our kid would have been like you. I have this overwhelming compulsion to call you son.”
Nick smiled shyly. “Thanks. I think I’m a little old to be your son, though.”
Meredith looked back at him. “Actually, technically speaking, you could be my son.”
“How old are you?” The words popped out before he could stop them, and he slapped a hand over his mouth.
“I’ll be 34 in a few weeks. So, you see, I could be your mom.”
As he mulled over this information, he found himself wishing----for the briefest moment---that it was true. “I wish you had been.”
The words were so quiet, she almost missed them. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she waited until he gazed at her. “Thank you.”
As she turned away, the strap on her tank fell to her shoulder, revealing some of the scars. Without conscious thought, he reached out and touched them. He couldn’t imagine the pain she’d suffered, couldn’t imagine dealing with what she’d had to do to survive. His hand shook as he pulled it away.
When she felt his touch, she was startled. Very few people touched her back for fear of reminding her what she’d been through. They didn’t realize that by not touching her, they just re-inforced the separation. When she no longer felt his hand, she turned back around.
Meredith looked into his blue eyes, reading his hurt, and realized he was hurting for her. A little boy was staring out at her from the eyes of a man who’d realized that the world was not always a fair place.
“C’mon, Nick.”
She grabbed a pillow and propped it on her lap, urging him to lie down. He sighed as he felt her run her fingers through his hair.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered the words, feeling completely inadequate.
She stopped for a moment, then resumed the stroking, her fingers drifting over his cheek for a soft caress. “It’s not your fault, but I thank you for wanting to make it better.”
They were silent as they watched the sun come up over the horizon, welcoming a new day and a new chance to battle the memories.
Table of Contents
Chapter Four