Cambria Hebert: Text

Honor

One Year Later…

Flashbulbs exploded everywhere around us, blinding me, and I tried not to recoil. This night had been everything that dreams are made of, but all the attention, the crowds, and the noise was starting to wear on me.

Nathan wrapped a solid hand around mine and pulled me through the crowd toward the waiting limo. He held the door while I slid across the black leather seats, and he followed me in, shutting the door behind us.

“Holy cow,” I gasped. “That was awesome and insane all at the same time!”

“Better get used to it. You’re a celebrity now.”

“I think you’re more popular than I am.” I smiled coyly from my side of the very long seat.

Nathan grinned and pushed off the door, slipping right up alongside me so we were pressed together, hip to ankle. “It’s only because this author I know wrote this book about me that made me look like a real hero.”

I climbed into his lap. The red gown I was wearing made it hard to move so I bunched it up around my thighs. “All I did was tell our story.”

“You did more than that,” he said, pride filling his voice. “You gave a voice to every single victim out there.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, but I did pray that I gave hope to some. Once the questioning, the media frenzy, and the funeral of Mary (her body was found weeks later, disposed in a crude shallow grave on the mountain) was over, Nathan and I settled into life together.

Being with him was more than I could have ever asked for. He made me so incredibly happy that I couldn’t begin to regret being kidnapped.

But it wasn’t something I was able to get over so quickly either. Nightmares, visions of Lex with a bullet wound in his head, and anxiety were all side effects of what happened.

Through it all, Nathan was there. He understood better than most people could. He never pushed, but his quiet strength was always there. He never complained when my screaming woke him in the night, and he put all his guns out of sight until I could look at one without feeling panic claw at my lungs.

I might have been the one to write a book about what happened to me, a book that debuted on the New York Times bestseller list and remained there to this day. I might have been the one whose name flashed in the credits on the big screen after the movie that was based on my book— based on us— premiered tonight. But Nathan was the one who encouraged me to write it.

After watching me go through various stages of anger and guilt, he suggested I write it all down. That I sit and type out how I was kidnapped, what it was like to be in that hole. He told me that even if the book never saw the light of day, it could be a means of healing for me, a way to move on.

And so I did.

I wrote about everything. I wrote about Lex and the things he did to me. I wrote about the fear and loneliness that threatened to drag me down as I sat in that hole and stared up at the faraway sky. I told Mary’s story, and I gave a voice to the family that would forever mourn her. But the book wasn’t just about that. It was also a romance. It was the story of Nathan and me. It was the story of how love bloomed from a terrible thing and how it prevailed to this day.

The war veteran and the writer, both survivors, both getting the happy ending they deserved.

“I love you, Mrs. Reed,” Nathan murmured, kissing my lips.

“I love you, too.”

His palm slid up between us and covered my breast. I groaned and arched into his touch. We had made love about a thousand times in the past year, and I would never get tired of his touch, his feel, his scent.

“Can we skip the premiere party and go back to the hotel?” he said against my lips as his fingers rubbed over my hardened nipple.

I moaned. “I wish.”

He pulled his lips away and leaned his head against the seat. “A bestselling book, a movie deal, a press tour…” he listed. “What’s next?”

“Well,” I said, fingering the ornate buttons on the Dress Blues he wore. “I was thinking we could buy a little place on the beach.”

“Near Jacksonville?” he asked, his eyes lighting with interest.

“Your hometown.” I smiled. “Think Lucy will like the beach?”

He chuckled. “What will your mother say?”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll call and bug us twenty times a day.”

“Patton called me the other day. He’s getting out of the Corps. I told him my idea about opening up a security firm.”

“What did he say?” I said, excitement for Nathan unfurling in my belly.

“He said he wanted in.” Nathan grinned like the cat that ate the canary.

“Of course he did,” I replied, sliding my hands up his shoulders. “New house, new place, new business.”

“I kind of always thought I’d do my twenty in the Corps and then spend my life alone. Yeah, I have my family in Jacksonville, but I didn’t think I’d have a family of my own.”

I folded his hand in mine. “Do you regret getting out of the Marines?”

He turned thoughtful and then he smiled. “No. That wasn’t the kind of life I wanted. Not anymore. Not for me. Not for you.”

“Life’s too short to not get what you want,” I told him, remembering when he said those words to me as he gave me Lucy.

“Exactly,” he murmured, cupping my face in his palms. “It’s a good thing I have everything I could ever ask for sitting right here in my lap.”

One text is what started it all.

A single text led us to forever.

One text can change everything.

The End

Morning from hell. I was not a morning person. I never was, and I never would be. Getting up in the morning is pretty much the worst part of my day. Trying to drag myself out of a way comfortable bed where I am surrounded by fluffy pillows and soft bedding is pretty much the epitome of torture.

Add an alarm that never shuts up and cold tile in the bathroom that feels like tiny needles being jammed into my skin and you have the makings for a very bitchy Julie.

Thank goodness I lived alone. There was no way in hell any man could go up against the morning sunshine I projected.

To make matters worse, I was running late. I hated being late. If I was late to work, it would throw off every appointment I had that day, and I would spend every single hour trying to play catch-up.

I rushed around trying to get ready, pulling on a cotton dress because it was a hell of a lot harder to try and match clothes together when I was stumbling around like a living zombie (Wait. Zombies didn’t live. They were dead.) and then buckled a red patent leather belt around my waist on the way down the stairs. I would have to do my eye makeup at work and I would also have to touch up my hair.

Glancing at the clock, I sighed and gave a longing glance at my kitchen where the coffee was kept.

I didn’t have time for caffeine. I felt sorry for everyone who had to deal with me today.

I grabbed my purse and rushed out the door and climbed into my little silver car. The air was already thick, and I knew soon, the summer heat was going to bear down on this town like a hungry woman at Waffle House.

I turned out of my neighborhood and tore down the street, letting out an unladylike curse when I got caught by a red light.

When it turned green, I sped around the corner and glanced at the clock. Five minutes.

Flashing blue lights had me glancing in the rearview mirror. More unladylike curses exploded from my mouth as I pulled to the side of the road and prayed the cop would speed by.