Page 111 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

“Major Prick sent me on another shopping trip,” Carter told him on Monday morning with a sneer, holding out a coffee he’d picked up. “And since you can’t wake up when you aren’t up all night, figured you needed coffee.”

That was why, an hour later, he found himself covered in sweat, aching, and lying on a soft mat he’d dragged up from storage.

The mat had been from when he’d tried to exercise at home.

He couldn’t even remember what exercise fad he’d been following, but he was incredibly glad after an hour of being beaten up.

“I don’t fucking cuddle,” Carter growled. The dirty liar. “And what’s the point of learning how to defend yourself if you can’t actually defend yourself with it?”

Carter leaned away, taking a step back. “Beating you up? I’m teaching you how to defend yourself if someone tries to fuck with you.”

“Boy, it’s almost like I’m not a fighter,” Marco said dryly, getting to his feet.

Carter scowled, eyes getting darker. “There’s not being a fighter, and then there’s you. You couldn’t fight your way out of a fucking paper bag right now.”

“I don’t know,” Marco said with a shaky laugh. “I think I could hold my own if I got wet first.”

“Jesus, you’re being fucking stupid,” Carter told him, voice growing louder.

Marco looked up, eyes widening. “Carter. I was just kidding.”

“This isn’t a fucking joke,” Carter snarled fiercely at him.

Marco held his hands up, taking a step back. “Okay, okay. I wasn’t trying to...I’m sorry.”

Carter watched him for a moment, and his shoulders drooped slightly. He spun around with a low growl, shaking his head. “I’ll leave you alone. Fuck it.”

Marco blinked, suddenly unsure where this sudden downshift had come from. A heartbeat later, he looked at him, backing away from Carter with a gesture of surrender, and he understood.

“I’m not scared of you,” Marco told him.

“Good for you,” Carter said, glaring at the floor.

“And I wasn’t doing that because I thought you would hurt me either.”

“Fine.”

“Carter.”

“What?” The last came out in a bark.

Marco sighed, stepping forward because he didn’t like Carter visibly distancing himself and also to prove his point. He didn’t hesitate to step close and lay a hand on Carter’s arm. The man tensed, and for a moment, Marco thought he was going to yank his arm away, resuming his snarls and barks.

Instead, he stood there, still tense, staring at the floor and not moving. Marco took that as a good sign and inched closer, gently laying his head on Carter’s arm and squeezing his wrist.

“I mean it,” Marco said softly. “You don’t scare me, Carter, and you never have. I just didn’t want to piss you off more than you already were. And not because I thought you were being an asshole, but because I didn’t understand why you were so mad, and I’m concerned, okay?”

“You done with the couples therapy talk?” Carter asked, voice rough.

Marco smiled, sensing the normal Carter in the irritation. “Sure. Wanna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“You going from couples therapy to regular therapy now?”

“Carter.”

He made the admonishment as soft as possible, but he saw Carter twitch as though he was fighting off a wince.

Marco had come to understand Carter a lot better over the past few weeks.

This was a man who didn’t talk about his feelings much.

But if Marco paid the slightest attention to what he did, Carter spoke enough to fit several volumes.

“You can’t defend yourself,” Carter finally muttered.

“Right,” Marco said, kissing Carter’s upper arm gently.

Carter glanced at him, eyes narrowed. “And what happens if you end up with another situation like that asshole who followed you home? I’ve seen you drunk, Marco. What happens if something like that girl happens to you?”

“Ah,” Marco said, understanding suddenly.

“Yeah. You’d be up the fucking creek without a paddle,” Carter snapped. “I can’t always be around to save you.”

Marco brushed aside how dickish that could have come off.

He finally understood Carter’s problem, and his heart went out to him.

Carter was struggling with the fact that he might not be around to protect Marco if he was in trouble.

Considering Carter obviously had a protective streak that could have stretched over the city limits, that had to be one hell of a difficult pill to swallow.

“You’re right,” Marco admitted. “You can’t always be there. And you’re right that I should know how to get out of most situations that can happen to me.”

Carter looked away, but not before Marco saw a familiar shadow pass over him. “I know you can’t always do something about the fucked-up shit that happens in life. Shit happens, and sometimes people who are better than most get fucked over. But?—”

Marco waited, sensing something on the horizon that he hadn’t anticipated. Carter’s body had gone rigid with his last couple of sentences.

And then a thought occurred to him.

“Is…” He hesitated as he felt Carter tense further and decided to risk it. “Is that why you’re here? In Port Dale, at the fort?”

For a moment, it felt as though he were handling a bomb primed to explode. Marco waited, knowing there was nothing more he could do to help Carter. The man had to choose for himself.

Carter swallowed thickly. “My last team.”

A pause. He cleared his throat and took a breath.

And tried again. “I didn’t know them all that well, a few months.

Just another group of jackasses, but that’s soldiers for you.

We don’t know how to, I don’t know, behave?

All of us had been shunted around, the military trying to see if switching people made shit better.

It didn’t. All it did was fuck up morale and make everyone hate what was happening. ”

Carter kept his eyes on the wall next to him, and Marco didn’t try to pull his gaze back. He knew better. This had to be done Carter’s way.

“They were alright, this last team. Stone, Michaels, Coome...who, God , he got so much shit for his name. Bose, Villion. Good guys, dumbasses, but damn fine soldiers and good men. Put up with my shit, and I guess I put up with theirs. We got on alright after a few months, and then we were...it was supposed to be a simple recon job. Go out to the village, abandoned for weeks, chase out the stragglers, be back for dinner. Whatever.”

Marco watched, enraptured, horrified, and spellbound as Carter’s throat clenched, his jaw tightening. He realized halfway through the story that Carter’s hand was gripping Marco’s hip tightly.

“It was an ambush. Don’t know if they thought it would be some big victory or if they just wanted to kill some soldiers.

Caught us out in the open. Bose was the first, just..

.there, and the next thing I know, he’s on the ground, hole in the head.

We scrambled for cover but, fuck...it all went to shit.

Michaels caught a bullet and bled out while we dragged him away.

Stone was team leader, and he tried, fucking.

..he tried. Tried to get us out, tried to keep us alive. ”

Carter’s head drooped, and he stared at the floor. Though Marco didn’t think he was seeing it, not truly.

“When Stone was cut down from behind, it was up to me...next in line, you know? Command ordered over the radio, we were supposed to wipe out the insurgents, kill the people when we didn’t even know where they were or how many they were.”

Carter gave an ugly snort, shaking his head.

“I said, ‘fuck that,’ and got the rest out while I could. Coome, Villion, and I got out and hoofed it back to base. Had to drag Villion behind us as we went, took a couple to the leg. And those...those fuckers in charge decided Stone had fucked up, and I’d disobeyed orders.”

Carter vibrated, though if it was with pain or rage, Marco couldn’t be sure. His heart was in his chest, breaking for the man struggling beside him.

“I lost it,” Carter said simply. “I’d just watched my team die around me, and one of them was being blamed, and so was I.

Because I chose my team over their stupid as fuck orders.

And I lost it. I don’t even remember what happened, blacked out?

Fuck if I know. I woke up in the medbay later and was told I was being shipped out and that I was lucky I wasn’t being discharged. ”

Carter sneered, which was the most heartbreaking thing Marco had ever seen.

“Lucky. Right. How lucky was that? Thrown away from the only thing I’d known for years.

Thrown away after watching them all die and then not knowing what happened to Villion and Coome.

Treated like shit wherever I went because somehow, what happened, or enough of it, got leaked.

Lucky. Fuck, do I feel so goddamn lucky? ”

Swallowing hard, Marco slowly circled Carter so he could stand in front of him. Carter was still looking resolutely at the floor, his chin trembling slightly before he controlled it. He couldn’t keep the pain from shining out of his eyes, though, or the fact that they were wet.

Marco reached up slowly, giving Carter the chance to draw away.

Carter did no such thing, though he didn’t react either.

Not until Marco carefully cupped one side of his face, feeling the tight muscles flex.

Carter didn’t move for several heartbeats before letting out a heavy breath and then leaning into the touch.

“How?” Carter asked softly.

Marco cocked his head. “How what?”

“How do you put up with my shit? With all the bull I know comes with being around me.”

Marco smiled gently. “That’s easy. From the first, I had a really good feeling about you deep in my gut.

And it seems like every time I see you, it’s no longer about a feeling but being proven right.

You’ve been proving that gut instinct right every damn day, and I’m loving it.

I love finding out more about you, seeing the man you are, and not the man everyone likes to think you are. ..or the one you think you are.”