Free Yellow Ribbons by Caitlyn Willows

of Kenyon lying there in white boxers, vomit, and shit overlaid with the bloody murder scene from the night before. The sights and scents of both were going to haunt him for a very long time.
    “Someone needs to call his wife. She needs to hear this from family, not official channels.”
    “Lani will take care of it.” Greg cursed himself for the lapse and prayed Cornwall didn’t catch it. The slip gauged his level of upset. Grief nudged his control to the side. He needed the peace and comfort of Lani’s presence. She gave those to him with a look, a sigh, the sound of her voice, or merely the feel of her body heat when she stood beside him. He hated the walls and rules that kept them apart. Hated that he couldn’t cling to her in public when he needed her most.
    Pain twisted his heart. A friend gone. A lover he couldn’t acknowledge. A life that suddenly felt hollow and much too short.
    “She’s the provost marshal now,” Cornwall said.
    “Unless the CG determines otherwise. He’s on a tear. Expect scorched-earth tactics, heads delivered on silver platters.”
    “Captain Hollister doesn’t deserve that. She’s a damn fine marine.”
    “Yes, she is.” The finest…in more ways than one. Another twist tied his heart in knots. Greg needed a distraction, something to keep his mind off the recent deaths and the burning need he had to be within touching distance of Lani. “So tell me a little about yourself. Hobbies, books, stuff like that.”
    Cornwall turned his way. “Don’t you think that’s a little crass, all things considered?”
    “We’ve got a thirty-minute drive back to base. I can’t spend it thinking about murders or the hell awaiting us at the office. I need normal, same as you. It’ll help face what’s to come.”
    “You’re very intuitive, Master Gunnery Sergeant.”
    “Sometimes.” It helped in a job like this and sucked when everything was so jumbled he couldn’t think straight.
    “I hope one day I can be half the man you are.”
    “Be careful what you wish for.” He managed a smile, though he didn’t trust the compliment.
    “Now that begs for a story,” Cornwall said with a laugh.
    “Not really. Still a work in progress.” And he wasn’t about to be sharing those details with anyone. “So…you.”
    Once Cornwall starting talking, it took little to keep him going. The upshot was that he was a lonely man with no friends who kept to himself out of fear his secret would come out. His well-to-do family cut him off when he chose the Marine Corps over their plans.
    The conversation managed to chase the shadows away from Greg’s mind. They returned the minute he pulled onto the Marine Corps base. The devastation lurking on the MP’s face as he waved them through the front gate told Greg the word was out. PMO was going to play hell, trying to get its people through this. Two of their own dead. Funerals, investigations, grief counseling, voids to fill.
    Like the one in his soul right now. The need to get to Lani ate at his gut, as if he wouldn’t be whole again until he saw her, felt her near him. Then he could breathe again, think again, handle anything the world and the Marine Corps could throw his way.
    “I appreciate you listening to me today, Master Gunnery Sergeant.” Back on base, back into the roles military regulation required.
    “Not a problem, Lieutenant. I enjoyed getting to know you better.”
    They left Greg’s truck at the same time, Cornwall’s stride speaking of a confidence that wasn’t there before. Greg wished his could be as sure. It felt like he was running in sand, trying to get inside and to Lani’s office. He and Cornwall went their separate ways: Cornwall to his office, Greg to Lani’s.
    “Give me a status report of where we are, Corporal Mathias,” he heard Cornwall ask. Greg didn’t wait to hear the answer.
    His pace quickened, past his office and on to hers. She juggled phone calls, paperwork, and a stream of people coming and going.