Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

" Y ou've come a long way in a very short amount of time," Dr. Rutenberg said later on in the week. "You should be very proud of yourself, Marshall."

It was only Jumper in the room with the doctor. Jasmine had a surgery she couldn't reschedule and she'd encouraged Jumper to go alone in case there was anything he wanted to discuss without her as an audience. While Jumper had assured her that there wasn't anything he didn't want her to know or felt he couldn't say in front of her, he still went to his appointment alone.

Jasmine and Jumper had been staying at the clubhouse all week. While they didn't sleep next to each other, they spent most of their time together and had made love twice more. When Jumper had had difficulty getting an erection, despite the long make-out session they'd partaken in, Jasmine had stripped him naked, had him lie on his belly on the bed, and given him a back massage. He'd relaxed so much that he'd nearly been asleep. Then his beautiful Jazz rolled him onto his back and gave him a blowjob before straddling him and rode them both to oblivion.

While he didn't tell Dr. Rutenberg those specific details, he did confess that Jasmine had been able to get him to relax enough to maintain an erection as well as orgasm.

Beyond that, he'd recently shared his epiphany that he wasn't as alone as he'd felt. Having his club brothers around him this week felt different than it had before. Dr. Rutenberg wasn't the only one to notice the changes in Jumper. Steel had pulled him aside and also commented that Jumper looked good, calmer, as had some of his other brothers. Gus had gotten on his knees before Jasmine like he was bowing down to a deity when Jumper had volunteered for a shift at the club's Harley-Davidson dealership.

"Have the police been able to track down the McCrery brothers?" Dr. Rutenberg asked.

Jumper shook his head. "They've vanished. They're native to the area so they know how to survive in these mountains. No one's all that surprised they were able to disappear so easily."

"Most of us have some sort of survivalist background in these parts. My husband likes to go up to a rural cabin and cut off from the world. No cell phones, electricity, or anything. He finds it peaceful." Something in Dr. Rutenberg's voice told Jumper that the doctor did not agree with his spouse.

"How did you know you wanted to marry your husband?"

Dr. Rutenberg tilted his head in curiosity at Jumper's question. "You've been married before. What made you want to marry Molly?"

Jumper took a moment to think hard before responding. "I think I felt like I was supposed to. We'd been dating for almost two years. She'd been there when I decided to go through BUD/S and when I'd gotten my Trident." Jumper touched his upper left arm where his only tattoo was. The SEAL Trident was an honor, one that he hadn't felt he deserved in over a decade. "Looking back on it, I don't know why I married her. I'm not even sure I loved her. I think I loved the idea of her, the military wife waiting for me at home. But that wasn't who Molly was."

"Do you feel that's who Jasmine is?"

Jumper shook his head. "The point is moot. I'm no longer in the service. She wouldn't be a military wife."

"No, but she'd be a veteran's wife. There's honor and purpose in that. Jasmine's already proven how much she's willing to give to you and your relationship." Dr. Rutenberg steepled his fingers before his mouth. "As you've pointed out, you're no longer in the military. Needing Jasmine to be a military wife isn't necessary anymore. So, my question is what sort of wife or partner do you see Jasmine as?"

Jumper didn't even hesitate. "I want her to be my ol' lady. I want to create a life with her."

Looking at his wristwatch, Dr. Rutenberg lowered his hands. "Marshall, I commend you on your progress. I do want to caution you that progress does not mean there won't be setbacks." Jumper nodded his understanding. A part of him was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I want to make a suggestion. If possible, I want you and Jasmine to try to fall asleep next to each other. You can be on opposite sides of the bed if you don't feel comfortable cuddling. You have others around you if a nightmare occurs. Do you think you'd be comfortable trying this?"

A part of Jumper, the protector part, wanted to refuse. He never wanted to risk Jasmine's safety. "What if I hurt her?" he asked in a low voice.

"You mean, what if you hurt her like you did your mother?" Dr. Rutenberg clarified.

Jumper flinched, the memory resurfacing. "Yes." His voice was barely audible.

"Marshall, we've been over this. What happened to your mom was an unfortunate accident. It was also eight years ago. You're stronger now and understand your symptoms in a way you didn't before. And no offense intended towards your mom, but she should not have approached you after you were triggered as she did. Jasmine knows better."

Jumper's mouth felt dry. "I'm not sure I can risk her on that chance."

"It's just food for thought," Dr. Rutenberg placated. "Something to talk about and consider with Jasmine. If you want a life with her, you're going to have to face some of those hurdles, Marshall. As I've said before, honesty is key. Tell her what happened with your mom, explain your fears to her, and allow her to make an informed decision."

Jumper thanked Dr. Rutenberg and shook the younger man's hand before leaving the office. Aerial walked obediently behind him as he headed down the stairs into the bookstore below. The owner, a shy brunette in her twenties, smiled at him from her place behind the cashier's counter. He acknowledged her with a nod.

Stepping out into the sunlight, Jumper reached for his Aviator sunglasses. He took a step towards his Indian in the street parking lane outside of the bookstore. Something whacked him on the back of the head and his world went black.

A sharp ringing in his ears brought him out of unconsciousness. The pain in his head was piercing, making him gasp out. Confusion and nausea rivaled as top contenders at the forefront of his mind.

I can't breathe… I can't breathe…

Pressure pressed down on his legs, keeping him immobile. Trapped. Fear gripped him, but he wasn't able to call out to check on his men. Where were his men? Saint, Bunny, Crash, Smeagol, and Wizard. Where were they? Dust, debris, and who knew what else clogged up his mouth and throat.

He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

As the ringing in his ears lessened, fierce barking registered. That made no sense. His team didn't have a K9 assigned to it. Crash wanted to go through the training, but it would involve being pulled from the team for six weeks.

Something brushed up against his nose. Again. The instinct to swat it away like a fly made him realize he could move his hand.

He could move both his hands. And his legs. Nothing was pinning him down. The feel of the warm concrete beneath him became known to him next. He'd been on stairs; why did it feel like he was lying on something smooth now, like a sidewalk?

Something harder slapped against his face. He felt something vertical press further against his chest. The growling and barking sounded louder.

Liquid pooled at the base of his neck. He tried to force his eyes open, despite the pain.

Brightness accosted his eyes. But he saw enough before he had to close them again to spark his memory.

He wasn't in Iraq. He was in Mount Grove, Pennsylvania.

Aerial was standing over him in a guard position. He'd been hit in the back of the head on his way out of Dr. Rutenberg's office. If Aerial was acting so aggressively, then he hadn't been hit on accident.

Voices reached his ears. Muffled, but it sounded like two males arguing.

Jumper was lying on his side on the sidewalk. He forced himself to roll onto his hands and knees. Bile rose in his throat, but he swallowed it back down. Aerial's backside remained pressed against him. She moved as he did, always remaining between Jumper and the threat.

The pain of moving nearly made him pass out again, but Jumper fought to stay conscious. Though the initial blow felt like hours ago, it could have only been a minute or so. He didn't hear sirens. The town was small enough that someone would have seen and called the cops. As he forced himself to his feet, blood continued to flow from the head wound down his neck and onto his shirt and cut.

Jumper straightened his shoulders. His vision was a bit blurry, but he was able to make out the threat before him and Aerial.

The McCrery brothers stood about fifteen feet away. Keys had filled the club in on everything about the McCrery brothers, Doug and Tim. Though the shorter of the two, Doug was four years older than his brother. They'd inherited their rundown farm from their dad when he'd been killed during a drunken bar fight. Their mom had died when they were kids from an overdose. The brothers had run the farm into even further debt when they'd tried their hand at horse breeding. What money they'd had, they poured into a stud that they thought would bring them to riches and glory in the horse world. Except they'd been conned. The horse they'd spent nearly six figures on had been a dud and unable to sire offspring.

To survive, the brothers had to sell most of their land. They now only owned a few acres plus the homestead and barn. About four years ago, they'd stopped selling the hay bales that had kept a roof over their heads, but had started earning some pretty hefty paychecks from a—quote, unquote—‘dog breeder' to house their birthing mothers and pups. It was Keys's belief that this was a ruse, as the dog breeding business didn't exist, for the brothers starting up their illegal dogfighting ring and the proceeds were the money they made gambling as well as the overcharges.

Right before the first Pitbull dog had been found by that Amish family and brought to Jasmine's clinic, though, the money had stopped coming in. Instead, a large sum had gone out. Keys was able to track the purchase to a warehouse in Johnstown, which was about halfway between Mount Grove and Pittsburgh.

Keys believed the brothers were moving their dogfighting operation off their property and to the Johnstown warehouse.

"Just grab the bitch and let's go!"

"You grab her! She bit me when I tried!"

Jumper blinked rapidly to force his vision to clear up. He felt behind his back for his SOG, relieved to find it still in its sheath. He kept it horizontally attached to his belt at the small of his back, just as he had when he was a SEAL.

Tim, the taller of the brothers, was gripping his bloody hand. Jumper couldn't focus enough to see the bite, but he had no doubt that the man had an imprint of Aerial's teeth imbedded in his skin.

"Good girl," Jumper muttered to her. Louder, he said, " Bewaken ," to Aerial. The Dutch command confirmed she was to remain on guard.

Doug looked around in frustration before storming forward. As soon as he pulled the pistol from the front of his pants, Aerial lunged. Her police training required no command from Jumper. She aimed for the forearm of his right hand, the bite-and-hold technique forcing Doug to release the gun. It clattered to the sidewalk as Doug shouted in pain. He tried to dislodge Aerial by shaking her off his arm, but that would only increase her bite.

Tim started forward to defend his brother. Jumper leapt between them. A swift kick to the man's hand sent his gun flying. He aimed a punch for Jumper's face, which he easily dodged. Even with his head injury, his own training took over.

Sirens echoed down Main Street. They weren't that far from the police station. Jumper was too focused on the attack to register if there were bystanders witnessing the fight. Aerial took Doug down to the ground. His arm was bleeding profusely.

When Tim tried to punch Jumper again, he grabbed the other man's wrist and twisted it around behind his back. Tim cried out, but Jumper only tightened the hold.

Before he spoke to Tim, Jumper turned his head towards Aerial. " Loslaten ," he ordered and she released her grip on Doug's arm. " Zit. Bewaken ," he told her again. Aerial sat, guarding her prisoner.

Jumper turned his attention to his own captive. "What do you want with Jasmine Sharpe?" he demanded. "What do you think she took from the barn?"

When he didn't answer right away, Jumper twisted his arm more. Tim gasped out in pain as his shoulder threated to dislocate. "His cut! That bastard's cut was missing!"

Jumper released Tim in surprise. Cut? As in a biker's cut? The Via Daemonia didn't have any missing members that Jumper knew about. The body couldn't be one of theirs… Except they did have one former member. His cut was in Steel's office, as far as Jumper knew.

What if he'd gone back? What if Scar had stolen back his cut?

The body was male. The police were still waiting on the dental results. Fingerprints and facial recognition weren't able to be used. Scar's prints should have been in the system from his time in the military, but Scar had always been such a mystery. Was it possible he'd removed his fingerprints and records?

It wasn't… It just couldn't be.

Jumper's stomach rolled at even the thought that the dead body in the morgue at the hospital could be Scar. The man had always seemed so invincible, untouchable. With his numerous knives and the vest he wore under his cut with supplies, he always seemed so ready for anything.

Why would Scar have been in the McCrery's barn? He wasn't even in town.

Yet, the club didn't have any proof that he wasn't not in town. Scar had always just seemed to show up places. Bulldog had grudgingly admitted he didn't know where Scar had been living prior to his departure from the club.

Was it possible?

Oh God.

Two police cruisers came to a screeching halt before the book store. Tim took advantage of Jumper's shock and bolted, leaving his brother bleeding on the sidewalk. Doug shouted after him, but Tim never looked back.

Bulldog, Lucky, and Steel stared at Jumper in horror after Jumper informed them of his suspicions. He was sitting on a bed in the emergency room after getting a CT scan and having the head wound stapled closed. A nurse had cleaned his wound out thoroughly with a water-peroxide solution, but his neck and hair were still sticky with dried blood. His cut and shirt were on the bed next to his hip in a hospital effects bag. Both were in need of a good washing to get the blood out of them.

Jasmine was out in the hospital with prospects Will and Sara as her bodyguards. She'd come as soon as she'd heard about Jumper's attack and had cancelled the rest of her home visits for the day. Dr. Rutenberg, whom Jumper had learned was the one who'd called the police, had taken her out of the room when Jumper had asked for privacy to speak with his club brothers. Pirate had also gone with them. Though Pirate was a patched member, and someone Jumper trusted implicitly, he did not want to voice his concern about who the body in the morgue could be to anyone but his President, VP, and SAA.

"It makes no sense, right?" Jumper asked again when the three highest ranking VDMC officers remained silent. He looked at Steel. "You have Scar's cut still?"

Bulldog and Steel exchanged a look. After a moment, Steel let out a long sigh. "Scar's cut has been missing since the night of Lucky and Harper's wedding." The night Scar had snuck onto club property and showed Bulldog the file he'd complied of the human trafficking ring that had sold Cassie to the Heaven Haven Community. "I didn't say anything because…" Steel voice trailed off and he winced. "I was hoping it was a sign that Scar would one day want to come back to us. I hoped he'd taken it as a reminder that he still has a home here."

Jumper felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "So…it's possible. That the body… I mean, who else would have a cut in this area?"

No one had an answer for him.

Finally, Bulldog spoke. "I'll…" He closed his eyes and ran a hand down his bearded face. His tanned skin was certainly paler. "I'll head down to the morgue. Even if his face is unrecognizable, I'd know if it is Scar."

"Take Carlos with you," Steel told him softly.

Bulldog left. Jumper's heart felt heavy as he watched Bulldog go. He looked to his President. "It can't be him. Why would Scar even be involved with the McCrery brothers to have been in their barn?"

"If it's not him, then who is in our territory wearing a cut?" Lucky asked back.

"Have Keys look into nearby clubs, even the one-percenters. Someone is missing a member and I won't have a horde of ruthless bikers raining down havoc on our town," Steel ordered Lucky. Lucky pulled his phone out and started texting, but paused when Steel spoke again. "Don't mention anything about Scar. Not until Bulldog comes back."

"And if it is him?"

Jumper watched Steel's face harden at Lucky's question. "Then we'll be the ones raining down havoc."

Jumper was getting his discharge papers from the nurse when Bulldog came back into the exam room. Carlos was not with him. With the nurse, Gus, Jasmine, and Dr. Rutenberg in the room, he couldn't speak out loud. However, he made sure to catch Steel's, Lucky's, and Jumper's eyes before he shook his head.

Relief made Jumper sag slightly. He hadn't lost another brother.

The police had taken Doug McCrery into custody. The town's officers were praising Aerial for the takedown. After Jasmine had looked Aerial over to ensure she was okay, Danny had offered to take Aerial to get a treat from his mom's bakery as a reward while Jumper was taken to the hospital for treatment. Jumper couldn't argue that Aerial was the hero of the hour and had appreciated Danny's offer.

Jasmine was understandably distraught that the McCrery brothers had attacked Jumper and Aerial. She felt responsible, even though she wasn't at fault.

Looking at Jasmine as she listened to the nurse's instructions for aftercare and what symptoms to look for, she was still visibly upset. Even though she was a vet, she was listening attentively for the signs of a subacute hemorrhage, which was a slow brain bleed.

Jumper realized that there was a reason Tim and Doug McCrery believed Jasmine had taken a cut from the body in the barn. Because someone had. Had someone else been in the barn with Jasmine when she'd been collecting the puppies? Or been there just before Sophia and Jasmine had arrived?

As grateful as Jumper was that the body wasn't Scar, it led to more pressing questions. Who was in their territory wearing a biker's cut? Why was he in VDMC territory? And who killed him?

While Jumper wanted to help get answers, frankly his head was throbbing. He felt jittery, like he'd eaten too much sugar. He knew he was crashing down from the adrenaline high, and he didn't want to be in the hospital or Church when he hit bottom. He wanted to be in his bed with Jasmine.

Preferably naked.

Jasmine couldn't sleep. While guilt did plague her for Jumper's attack earlier, that wasn't the main reason she couldn't relax. Jumper was resting behind her on the bed. He was on his back with his arms crossed over his chest, hands tucked under his armpits. Like he was trying to hold himself back from touching her. Disappointment warred with pity in her brain. When Jumper had asked her to sleep with him, she'd been so excited.

Until she realized how he planned to sleep with her.

They were in the same small bed, but they might as well not have been. As soon as Jumper had laid down, she'd joined him. Then he'd scooted away from her. He whispered a small "good night", even though it was late afternoon, and closed his eyes.

That was it.

No kiss, no cuddles, no…anything.

She was trying to ease her disappointment with the knowledge that she was in his bed. That was an improvement. Or, at least, that's what she kept trying to tell herself.

Hunger eventually motivated her enough to get up. Jumper didn't stir as she rose, so she let him be. He'd been complaining of a headache on the ride back to the clubhouse and she didn't want to risk that turning into a migraine again. Dr. Rutenberg had warned her that the attack might increase his PTSD symptoms over the next couple of days.

Planning on just grabbing something from the club's large commercial kitchen, Jasmine was surprised to find Abby sitting at the bar alone. She had bridal magazines in front of her as well as a notebook where she was taking notes. She was reaching for her glass of iced tea when she spotted Jasmine.

Abby smiled. "Hey."

"Hi." Jasmine approached. "Where is everyone?"

"Steel ordered everyone out of the clubhouse to keep the place quiet for Jumper. Those who live here are probably at Demon's ." She indicated to her glass of tea. "Want some?"

Jasmine shook her head. "No, thanks. I've never gotten a taste for iced tea. I prefer lemonade or water."

Abby indicated to the kitchen door. "I'm sure Jenna has fresh lemonade in the fridge. She makes it from scratch for the kids."

"That woman's amazing. I'll be right back. Need anything?"

Abby shook her head. "I'm good."

Jasmine went into the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a new pitcher of lemonade sitting in the fridge with Jenna's handwriting on the label. She pulled out the supplies to make a sandwich too. After adding some pretzels to her plate, Jasmine cleaned up her mess and made sure the kitchen was as she found it. If she'd been home, she never would have done so, but she didn't want to get a reputation as a slob around the clubhouse.

She joined Abby back out at the bar. "If everyone else is gone, what are you doing here?"

Abby gave her a friendly smile. "I was waiting for you. I wasn't sure if you were asleep or would come out, but I figured now was a good a time as any to talk since the place is deserted."

Jasmine put her plate on the bar before hopping up on a stool. "Why do you want to talk to me?"

"First, because I wanted to extend an invitation to our Ol' Ladies' Night gatherings."

"Ol' Ladies' Night?" Jasmine repeated slowly. "I'm not an ol' lady."

"Neither is Angel, but she still attends. Paige, Harper's sister-in-law, has even come to a few. But," Abby added when Jasmine opened her mouth to reply, "you are a future ol' lady, and I say that counts."

Jasmine felt her cheeks heat up. "Jumper isn't ready for that sort of commitment yet."

"He will be," Abby assured her. "And it's not like there's a rule that claims you have to have his cut before you can join us. It's just us ladies. The guys take all the kids out for different events and give us time to socialize without them."

Not sure what else to say, Jasmine smiled at Abby. "Thank you."

"I was the new girl not too long ago," she reminded Jazz. "Just wanted to make sure you knew you were welcome and one of us."

Jasmine picked up a pretzel but didn't eat it. "You guys sure do things differently around here. No posturing or making us prove ourselves. When Jumper first brought me here, I was a bit fearful I was being thrown into the lion's den. Like high school all over again."

Abby snorted. "You know, I'm a local. Or I used to be. José and I were in the same class here until I moved away."

Jasmine wasn't sure she knew that. "Why do you call him ‘José'? The others, like Harper, call their men by their road name. I call Jumper by his too."

Abby shrugged nonchalantly. "He's always been José to me, long before he was Bulldog to anyone else."

"So you two were high school sweethearts and then you came here with your kids?" Jasmine was trying not to pry, but also very much wanted answers for why Tessa had had to use her clinic's equipment in the middle of the night on a very pregnant Abby.

Clearly she wasn't fooling Abby though. The other woman took a moment to study her. "What I'm about to tell you doesn't get spoken of again." Her voice was stern but still kind. "Not even to Sophia. If you're going to become Jumper's ol' lady, you'll need to accept there are some things you will never be able to share with anyone outside of the club."

Jasmine took a sip of her lemonade. "Why not?"

"Club business." Abby said it like it was a solution, not a phrase that sparked more questions than answers. "The club keeps some things to themselves. To betray that would be to betray Jumper. Even if it's your mistake, Jumper would pay the price."

"Price? Like money?"

Abby shook her head. "He could lose his officer status or worse. Sometimes it's a physical payment. Other times it could be having his colors stripped."

Jasmine didn't like the sound of that. "Is that what happened to Scar? No one around town seems to know what happened to him."

Abby shook her head. "Scar's a different matter and not my story to tell. All I'm saying is that you need to put Jumper and the club first once you're his ol' lady. Do you think you can do that?"

Jasmine nodded. "It'll be difficult not to tell Sophia things, but not impossible. She'd never betray my trust, though."

"Doesn't matter. She's still not one of us."

While Jasmine didn't like the sound of that, she still vowed, "I won't tell anyone your secrets, Abby."

Abby smiled softly. "Or I yours." She closed the magazine in front of her, pushing the pile aside. She hadn't looked at any since Jasmine had sat down. "Jumper and I have a lot in common. I don't know exactly what happened to him, but I too suffer from PTSD. When I was seventeen, my parents joined a cult. I'm going to spare you the horrible details but I was forced against my will. Biologically, Caleb and Georgie are my children. Cassie was sold to the cult through a human trafficking ring about a week before my escape and bought by the man who raped me. He had other children too. Lila is one of them."

Jasmine's jaw fell open. Shock kept her from replying.

"José is my knight in shining armor. Always had been. We met when we were in kindergarten. He was my everything. Is my everything," she corrected. "When my parents announced we were moving, I didn't want to go. I didn't want to leave him. We were months away from graduation, but they were my parents. I obeyed them. Sixteen years later, I finally escaped that awful place. I wasn't sure what to expect, but José never even hesitated. He never lost his love for me, nor I him. He accepted my children as his own that first night. In fact, we were still in your clinic when he claimed them. He even took in two additional children that aren't biologically mine without me having to ask it of him. José is the most honorable man I know." Love shined on her face as she added, "And the most protective." She held up her phone to show a text message from José asking how she was and if she needed anything.

Silence fell between the women. Of all the things Jasmine had been expecting Abby to say, escaping a cult after sixteen years had not been one of them. She'd assumed Abby had been escaping a bad marriage.

Realizing she had to say something, Jasmine forced out, "I am so sorry that happened to you."

Abby tried to shrug it off, but Jasmine saw her pain. "It's hard to imagine something so awful happening to you until it does. Everyone thinks they're so safe…until they aren't." Abby took a sip of her iced tea. "José and I haven't had sex."

A different type of shock hit Jasmine at those words. Her eyes landed on the ring on Abby's left hand. "Aren't you guys married?"

Abby nodded. "Legally, yes. But he's still giving me the big wedding I'd always dreamed of since I was a little girl."

That was sweet, but Jasmine was still confused. "Are the two of you waiting until after the wedding then?" She wasn't entirely sure why Abby had brought up the subject of her sex life with Bulldog.

Abby shook her head. "I should specify. José and I have sex, but not intercourse. I… I tried, but I'm not there yet."

Jasmine couldn't imagine surviving a sixteen-year captivity, let alone having been repeatedly raped during that time. She didn't know the specifics, but Abby had clearly been raped more than once since she'd given birth to two children. Irish twins if Jasmine recalled Caleb's age correctly.

Before Jasmine could comment, Abby continued. "José is extremely patient with me. I'd like to say that one day I'll be able to have intercourse with him, but I'm not as confident as I once was. It's… I know it's him. I know it. Even looking directly at him, it's like my brain just won't accept that I'm a willing participant this time." Abby shrugged awkwardly. "But José claims he doesn't care. He repeatedly reminds me that our sex life is our own and no one else's business."

Which prompted the question why Abby was telling her then.

Abby met Jasmine's eyes. "I don't know what you and Jumper have or haven't done in the bedroom, and I don't want to know. The point of me telling you any of this is to encourage you to be patient with him. I know the signs. I can see he's making progress with you. I just want to ask you to stick by him, even if what you two have isn't what is considered ‘conventional.'"

In a roundabout way, Jasmine understood why Abby had confided in her about Bulldog's and her sex life. She even appreciated Abby's concern for Jumper. Jasmine took a bite of her sandwich to provide her some extra seconds to figure out her response.

"We've had sex," she finally said. Since Abby had been so honest with her, she figured she could be as equally open. "We seem to be doing okay in that department. There were a couple of bumps along the way," her cheeks reddened, "but we're getting there. It's… after the sex that I'm having trouble with."

Abby tipped her head to the side. "How so?"

Jasmine wasn't sure how to explain the issue without betraying Jumper's confidence. "Do you have nightmares?"

"Ah," Abby said as if she understood exactly what Jasmine was getting at. "José is very careful if he comes to bed after me. He knows never to startle me or to box me in. Most of the time I fall asleep on top of him. If we do end up spooning, I'm the big spoon."

Jasmine's eyebrows raised. Bulldog was a big guy. She had a hard time picturing him as the little spoon. "Does him holding you help?"

Abby made a noncommittal gesture with her hand. "Sometimes. But if I'm already upset, generally no. He'll wait for me to reach out to him rather than try to touch me. He has this trick to draw me out of my memories where he sits near me, without touching me, and just talks. I don't even really register what it is that he's saying. It's more of his voice that brings me back to the present."

"I think that's what Aerial does for Jumper," Jasmine acknowledged. "She's like an anchor for him."

"And a protector," Abby added, hinting at earlier that day. "But you can give Jumper what Aerial can't. You can give him a future and happiness."

"He thinks he'll hurt me if he has a nightmare when I'm in the bed with him."

Abby gave her a sad look. "He might be right. I mean, he's bigger than you are and stronger too. If he grabbed your throat or pinned you down, could you confidently say you'd be able to break his hold?"

Jasmine made a disgruntled face. "No."

"And imagine the pain it would cause him if he was responsible for hurting you? Or worse? What if he killed you?"

Jasmine felt her blood go cold at the thought. She wanted so badly to defend Jumper, to say that he would never hurt her…but she knew that might not be true. "He's not even willing to try," she argued back softly instead. "What if holding me at night or me holding him soothes him or brings him peace?"

"I don't have an answer for you with that. Each of us are different. Having José near me, even if he isn't touching me, is reassuring and calms me. Talk to Jumper," Abby encouraged. "And, remember, make your relationship your own, even if it's unconventional."

Jasmine checked on Sophia and the puppies before she went back into Jumper's room. Sophia was doing well with them, brushing off Jasmine's concerns that she'd abandoned her responsibilities to the puppies.

She was surprised to see Jumper's eyes were open when she reentered his room. Jasmine hurried over to the bed. "Are you okay?"

He nodded stiffly. "Just a headache."

"The doctor said I could give you Tylenol," she offered. When Jumper's past addiction had been disclosed to the emergency care team, they'd informed them that nothing drastic had to be changed for his type of wound. Additionally, she was warned not to give him Motrin or Aspirin. With addicts, the goal was to avoid medication that would change his level of consciousness.

Jumper shook his head carefully. "I'm fine."

Jasmine scowled at his stubbornness. "There's no reason to suffer?—"

"I'm fine," he repeated. "Or I will be." He patted the bed next to him. "Join me, please."

Jasmine's heart did a little pitter-patter as she rejoined him on the bed. She rolled onto her side to face him. Jumper was still laying on his back, but had shifted to be angled towards her some. "Do you want anything to eat? I can get you some water."

"Pretty sure I'd just vomit anything I swallowed back up," he confided. Jasmine wondered if that was another reason he didn't want to take the Tylenol. "Are you comfortable?"

Jasmine wasn't sure how to take his question. "On the bed? Sure." His spare pillow smelled like him, which was a bonus for her.

"I meant in the bed," Jumper clarified. "With me."

Ah . Jasmine understood his meaning now. "I wish you were holding me," she said honestly, "but I understand why you're not. I don't want to cause you discomfort, Jumper. I'm fine just being in your bed if this is what you want or need."

"What I want is to be holding you too," he confessed. His face scrunched in pain, and she worried for a moment that it was due to his injury. Jumper's next words, though, corrected that assumption. "I hurt my mom."

Jasmine's eyes went wide. She hadn't met Jumper and Pirate's parents yet, but she'd greeted them on the phone and waved to Mrs. Sager over FaceTime once when she had called while Jumper and she had been out on his bike. She knew that their parents were very proud of both their sons. They visited occasionally too or their sons would travel down to Asheboro, North Carolina. Mrs. Sager spoke with love to Jumper—at least she had the few times Jasmine had overheard their conversations.

Jumper had hurt her? Jasmine didn't understand. How? When? Why? So many scenarios played in her head, but she forced them back. She wouldn't make assumptions.

Realizing that Jumper was remaining quiet while she processed his statement, she encouraged him to continue. "Explain, please, because I know you, Jumper. You would never intentionally hurt your mom—or me," she added specifically.

His voice was low, barely an octave above a whisper. "After I got sober, I moved from California to North Carolina to stay with my parents. Having a support system is important to achieving sobriety. After everything with Molly and my team…" His voice trailed off. "I had no reason to remain in California.

"My PTSD symptoms were different back then. I was extremely anxious and paranoid. Add on symptoms of withdrawal, and I was easily agitated. There was an accident with a dump truck down the road from my parents' house. The driver had a heart attack and drove into a neighbor's house. It was…loud," he finally settled on an adjective. She could hear the strain in his voice. "I was triggered by the noise. My mom tried to calm me down, but she got too close."

Jumper's face scrunched in pain as he admitted, "I pushed her and she tripped, fell onto the coffee table, and hit her head. I don't even remember doing it. One second she was standing next to me, the next she was lying on the living room floor bleeding and unconscious."

Jasmine felt tears run down her face. "But she's okay," she pressed. "I've spoken to your mom, Jumper. She's okay."

"She could have so easily not been," was his argument.

Jasmine reached for him on instinct before pulling her hand back. His eyes weren't open and it wasn't a good idea to startle him, even if her intentions were good. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, Jumper."

"She should hate me, but she doesn't."

Jasmine's eyes narrowed in anger now. "Of course she shouldn't. And neither should you. I get it now—your fear of having me too close if a nightmare strikes. Your mom clearly doesn't blame you for what happened. It was an accident ," she stressed.

Jumper turned his head on the pillow towards her and opened his eyes. "I tried to kill myself afterwards."

All the blood drained from Jasmine's face and her entire body went cold at his confession. "What?" she asked lowly. She was desperately hoping she'd heard him wrong.

Jumper turned his face towards the ceiling again but left his eyes open. "After I saw her on the floor, bleeding, I called nine-one-one and then I ran. I'm not even sure where my destination was. I didn't want to kill myself," he stressed. "I was just so tired. I just wanted sleep . I was so tired of fighting. Fighting to stay sober, to be the man I used to be, to honor my friends' memories and knowing I was failing… I just wanted to stop fighting. Somehow in my haze, I ended up on a bridge. I'd always found peace in the water—it was why I'd become a SEAL in the first place.

"My dad found me," he told her. "I don't know how long I'd been there for. Time was a bit fuzzy in those days."

After several minutes of silence, Jasmine pressed, "What happened?" She absolutely hated the fact that he'd tried to commit suicide, even if that hadn't been his intention. She hated what he'd gone through, all that he'd suffered, that had led him to that moment.

"My dad took my hand and told me that, if I was going to jump, he was too."

Jasmine gasped. "What?"

Jumper nodded, still not looking at her. "He'd tried to talk me down, but I was too out of it. So he stood up on that ledge with me." Something akin to despair crossed over Jumper's face. "I'll never forget the moment I realized that he'd die if he jumped with me. There was a chance, slim though it was, that my training would take over and I'd be able to save myself if I jumped. My dad, though? He didn't have my training. He is an architect. No matter how strong a swimmer he was, he wouldn't have survived."

Jasmine's heart pounded in her chest. Her hands and face felt clammy. Dear God. She couldn't imagine the courage it had taken Mr. Sager to get up on that ledge with Jumper. What if he'd slipped? What if Jumper had… jumped ?

Jasmine blinked, something clicking in her head that she wished hadn't.

Jump.

Jumped.

Jump er .

Oh God. Her stomach rolled.

"Your road name," her voice sounded raspy even to her own ears. "You named yourself ‘Jumper' because of that moment, didn't you? Some sick reminder of when you'd almost killed yourself?"

Jumper was silent for a moment before he shook his head. "It wasn't to remind myself of when I'd almost killed myself." He turned his head towards her. "It was a reminder each day to live . To keep fighting. That no matter how tired I was of fighting, that I needed to keep going. For them. My parents, my teammates, Gus…and now my club brothers. My name, it reminds me that I matter."

That sick feeling seeped out of her at his words. She scooted closer to him on the bed but still didn't reach out to him. "You matter," she repeated vehemently. "You matter so much, Jumper."

He reached out his hand to touch the side of her face, and she was so grateful that he did. "It would break me if I hurt you, Jazz. Even if it was entirely an accident, it would destroy me. I can't risk you."

A tightness in her chest loosened. "I was talking to Abby just now. She was at the bar looking at wedding magazines when I went out to get something to eat. She told me something that makes me feel ashamed of myself for having not realized before."

Jumper's eyebrows scrunched. "What's that?"

"Our relationship is ours." Jasmine placed her hand over his on her cheek. "Even if our relationship isn't conventional, it's still ours . I've been looking negatively at things because they're not ‘normal', like not being able to cuddle with you after sex or to be held by you at night. I'm sorry if you ever felt pressured by me to give me those things before you're ready. Jumper, even if we never sleep next to each other, it won't affect my feelings for you. We'll find other ways for you to hold me—like on your bike. We'll make it work. And it's no one else's business, as long as you and I are okay with what we have."

Jumper swallowed hard. "I want to be able to tell you that I'll be comfortable enough one day, but I can't promise that, Jazz. As much as I wish I could, I don't want to give you false hope."

"What if we build a pillow wall?" she suggested. "We'll still be next to each other, in the same bed, but there will be a symbolic barrier between us. We could even hold hands over it."

Jumper hesitated.

"If there's any sign of you having a nightmare, I'll get out of the bed. I'll call Pirate and Bulldog and remain as far away from you as I can."

Jumper lifted his eyes to hers. "I want to get you a taser too." Jasmine opened her mouth to argue in outraged horror, but Jumper pressed on. "Just in case. A taser will incapacitate me without you having to get near me."

Jasmine closed her mouth. She didn't want to agree, but Abby's words came to mind. Jumper had echoed the sentiment that hurting Jasmine would destroy him. She didn't want to cause him more stress or anxiety by arguing. Just because she had a taser, didn't mean she had to use it. He just didn't need to know that.

"Fine."

Unfortunately, Jumper didn't believe her. "Jasmine," he warned. "I need you to swear to me you'll accept the taser and that you'll use it if I came after you. I need to know you'll have protection if Pirate or Bulldog can't get to you in time. It's the only way I'll agree to trying your pillow wall idea."

Jasmine made a face, but relented. "Fine," she said again. Only this time she meant it.

Jumper leaned over and kissed her. "Thank you."

"Are you okay with me staying here tonight?"

He nodded slowly. "Honestly, I think the pain in my head would keep me from trying anything even if I did have a bad dream."

Jasmine didn't like the sound of that. "Please take some Tylenol. For me," she added to ensure he wouldn't argue.

He grumbled under his breath but nodded. Jasmine got up and headed towards her purse where she had a small bottle.

"Can I ask you something?" She approached with the medication and a water bottle.

"Always," Jumper encouraged.

As he took the pills and water from her, Jasmine said, "I know that some of the guys use the moniker they had in the military as their road name. Like Steel and Bulldog. But you named yourself Jumper after you were discharged. So what was your name in the military?"

Jumper swallowed the pills. When he tried to hand the water bottle back to her, she made a gesture with her hand to indicate he should drink more. Thankfully he did.

"Cap," he answered when the water bottle was empty.

"Cap?" she repeated in question. "Like C-A-P?"

He nodded. "Gus is eight years younger than me, did you know that?"

Jasmine shook her head, accepting the empty bottle back from him. "No. He doesn't look it."

"He is," Jumper assured her. "When I entered the Navy at eighteen, he was ten. The day I graduated from boot camp, Gus and my parents were in attendance. He'd gotten special permission to leave school to attend. Gus was so proud, he'd saluted me like he'd seen the sailors doing all day. I saluted him back before tussling up his hair. I told him that he better be good and that one day soon he'd be crossing that same stage. He replied loudly, ‘aye-aye, Captain!' Some of my buddies were approaching at that same moment and heard. They started calling me ‘Captain'. When I got my Trident, it was shortened to ‘Cap'."

Jasmine laid back down where she'd been. "After I found out you were a SEAL, I looked up what that meant. I mean, I knew the Hollywood version of it, but not what it really entailed. I learned about your Trident pin and the rigorous training you had to go through to get it."

"I used to not think it was all worth it," he confessed. "To have my team die like that? I would think back on those days and wonder why. How could God or the universe be so cruel? To allow me to succeed, only to suffer so much. I used to believe it wasn't worth it."

She picked up on his use of the past tense. "And now?"

His eyes met hers and he gave her little smile. "I'd suffer it all, if it meant being here with you."