Finally he turned off the stove and sat down next to me at the island, each of us with a sandwich and a steaming cup of the chamomile lavender tea Jude made when I couldn’t sleep.
I watched him take a bite of the grilled cheese and tried to figure out how to make the questions swirling in my mind coherent, then decided on the direct approach.
“What the fuck was that, Jude?”
“Eat your sandwich before it gets cold,” he said, staring at his plate while he chewed. “Cold grilled cheese is gross.”
He wasn’t wrong, and I sensed he was building to the answer to my question, so I took a bite and waited.
“We saw some things,” he said, wiping his hands on one of the paper napkins he’d set down with the grilled cheese. “In the military.”
I took another giant bite of the grilled cheese because it really was amazing and there was no reason I couldn’t eat and listen at the same time. “What kind of things?”
“It’s a long story. And it’s not all mine to tell.”
“I’m not going anywhere, so tell me the part that is.”
He took a drink of the tea, wrapping his hand around the mug. “When we first joined, Nolan and I were still in awe of Rafe. He’d always been the de facto leader in our friendship, the one who made the decisions, who steered the ship. He was the one who wanted to join up in the first place, and also the one who wanted to take a run at SEAL training.”
I thought about what Nolan had said, about how his dad had died in a car accident and Rafe had the kind of big-dick energy Nolan had been missing. He hadn’t wanted to tell me Jude’s side of things, but now Jude was right in front of me and I wanted to know, not just why they’d followed Rafe into the military but why they’d followed Rafe’s lead that night at Brandon Miller’s party.
“Nolan said his dad died.” I was hoping to get Jude to talk about his own. “He said that was why he followed Rafe.”
Jude took another bite of grilled cheese before continuing. “We’re the same age, but, well… you know how Rafe is. He never asks anyone’s opinion, never seems to need help, always seems so sure of everything. But my dad didn’t die like Nolan’s. I don’t have any excuse for following Rafe like I did except I was young and weak.”
“So you all agreed to join the military,” I said.
Jude nodded. “And I surprised myself by liking it. I felt like we were making a difference even though my dad and my older brother — both suits with big corporate jobs — thought it was a ‘waste of my potential.’” He used air quotes on the last three words.
I washed down the first half of my sandwich with some tea and started on the second. “Then what?”
“We went to SEAL training, surprised ourselves by getting in, and were assigned to the same unit.” Jude’s expression darkened and I put my sandwich down, sensing this was where the story turned. “The guy who led our unit — Sandoval — he was a real douchebag, but Rafe fucking loved him. He was exactly the kind of guy Rafe had been looking for, someone with an even bigger dick who got off on swinging it around.”
I wanted to ask about Rafe, about why he’d gotten sucked in by this guy Sandoval, but I could already hear Jude’s response: not his story to tell.
“Did you and Nolan tell him?” I asked. “That this guy Sandoval was a dick?”
“We tried,” Jude said, “but it was like rowing upstream. Sandoval could do no wrong in Rafe’s eyes. Then we got deployed and the shit really hit the fan.”
I studied his face. “In what way?”
Jude stuffed a quarter of his grilled cheese in his mouth at once. I sensed he was giving himself time to think, to consider his words. When he finished chewing, he brushed his hands on his sweatpants instead of using the napkin.
“Let’s just say Sandoval played fast and loose with the rules of engagement.”
“The rules of engagement?” I’d gotten used to military time and phrases like “negative” (which meant no) and “squaredaway” (which meant you had your shit together) but I had no idea what the rules of engagement were.
“There are rules to war and peacekeeping,” Jude explained. “Some of the rules are set by the DOD. Others are in place because of the Geneva Convention, which was created to make sure we don’t commit unnecessary atrocities against our enemies — civilian and otherwise — in a time of war. And the Convention is for us too. It means if we’re captured by the enemy, we can expect the same kind of humane treatment.”
“And this guy, Sandoval, he didn’t follow the rules?”
Jude snorted. “That’s a nice way of putting it. Sandoval liked breaking the rules, liked seeing how far he could push the envelope.”
The phrase made me uncomfortable because it was exactly what I’d thought about the Bastards when we’d been on our way to the beach. Except the Bastards were clearly okay jumping off buildings with parachutes and not okay with whatever Sandoval had done.
“It got…” Jude wiped his hands on his sweats again and I realized he was sweating.
I reached out to touch his knee. It was the first time I’d ever initiated physical contact with one of the Bastards, but I could tell he was upset and it was instinct to reassure him. “You don’t have to tell me.”