Chapter 1
The day before we were supposed to sign for our marriage license, I woke up and found the word IDIOT stamped in huge letters dead center on my forehead.
That ink was what they used to mark classified documents. Without the solvent, it did not come off, and scrubbing until the skin broke would not do it either.
Lauren Snow, the pride of the Southwest District, was leaning on Charles Rivers' shoulder as she owned him.
"General Rivers, your delicate little fiancée sleeps like the dead. Put her on a battlefield and she'd never even learn what killed her. I would be embarrassed to take her anywhere," Lauren said.
A few of the special ops guys behind her whistled and hooted.
"That's not fair, Captain Snow. If the general hadn't put military-grade sleeping pills in her warm milk himself, she wouldn't be out this cold," one of them said.
Lauren pressed her lips.
"Your wedding is tomorrow. Walk up there with that on your face and people are going to think General Rivers married a circus clown," she said, and laughed.
In a room full of that noise, Charles, who had never been anything but gentle with me, only sighed and handed me a wet wipe.
"They came off a high-pressure classified op. They're wound tight, and having fun with you is how they come down. You're about to be a military wife, so give them some room," Charles said.
*****
I took the wipe Charles handed me and scrubbed at my forehead as hard as I could.
The rough wipe scraped against my sensitive skin.
The burn went through my whole body.
I broke the skin.
Warm blood ran down the bridge of my nose and dripped onto my white cotton pajamas.
The red of the classified ink ran together with the blood.
The big IDIOT across the middle of my forehead had not faded at all. The blood only made it look worse.
The men in camo around me laughed harder, and none of them held back.
"Damn, you went at it. You'd take your own face off to get Captain Snow's handiwork out," one of them said.
"That is the highest-grade security ink the service has. Without the solvent you could scrub down to bone and it would still be there," another one said.
"The wedding is tomorrow. Walk out there like that and the guests will think General Rivers married a monster," another one said.
Lauren was leaning on Charles' shoulder and laughing so hard she was folded over.
She pointed at my bloody face, and there was nothing under the mockery.
Lauren said, "Charles, your fiancée isn't only delicate. She isn't very bright either.
"I told her the ink doesn't come off, and she went and did that to herself.
"A woman who can't take a little pressure? If the enemy ever got hold of her, she'd crack before the first day was out. She's an embarrassment to every family on this base."
Charles frowned and took the bloody wipe out of my hand.
He threw it down on the coffee table.
"Emily, are you finished?" he said.
There was nothing in his voice but blame.
He said, "Lauren and her team just came back from three months undercover in the jungle on the border. Three months with their nerves stripped raw.
"They put a stamp on your face to lighten things up and let some of it out.
"You're about to be a military wife. Can you not give them that much? Did you have to tear your own face open to make a point at me?"
I didn't say a word, just stared hard at Charles' face.
Blood from my forehead ran into my eye and turned everything red.
Charles was my fiancé.
Tomorrow was our wedding, seven years in the making.
He had warmed a cup of milk for me himself so I would sleep well.
I drank it without a thought.
It never occurred to me that he had put military-grade sleeping pills in it.
He put me under, and then he stood there and let his teammate, his so-called soulmate Lauren, stamp my face.
And now he was blaming me for not being understanding enough.
I looked at that face, familiar and unrecognizable at the same time.
When I was eighteen, a few guys on the street started whistling at me.
Charles went at all three of them alone while they had knives out, and he came away with a four-inch gash across his back.
He held my hand from a hospital bed and swore nobody would ever hurt me again.
When I was twenty, Charles got into the military academy.
He came to my dorm with every dollar of his stipend, went down on one knee, and asked me to wait while he made something of himself.
At twenty-two, he was picked for special operations, and he was gone for five years.
In those five years, his father had a stroke and ended up paralyzed.
I gave up a scholarship abroad and spent five years running between the hospital and the Rivers' house, cleaning him up, feeding him, and turning him over.
My stomach gave out, and my hair started going gray.
And then Charles came home decorated, and tomorrow was supposed to be the wedding.
And here he was, drugging me himself so somebody else could put a boot on my dignity.
I forced a cold, mocking smile.
"Lighten things up? Let some of it out?"
I pointed at my forehead.
"Charles, humiliating your fiancée is how the special forces lightens the mood? Is that the proud tradition around here?"
Lauren snorted and straightened off Charles' shoulder.
She walked right up to me, looking down her nose at me.
"Emily, don't get cute with me," Lauren said.
"I put that stamp on you. What are you going to do about it?
"If you can't take it, call the wedding off. Charles took first in the service-wide combat trials. There's a line of women waiting on him," Lauren said.
She paused and looked over my bloodstained pajamas.
"You do laundry and you cook. What exactly makes you good enough for General Rivers?" she said.
The whole room of special ops men went quiet, waiting for me to fall apart.
I looked straight at Lauren.
"If I'm not good enough, what makes you think you are?"
Charles' face went dark, and he took a step forward.
He said, "Emily, watch your mouth.
"Lauren has had my back with people shooting at us. Don't put your ugly little housewife suspicions on the two of us."