Rough Around the Edges

by Ranae Rose

  She didn’t say anything, just rocked her hips, her gaze hazy and locked with his.

  He kept going, ignoring the digital clock glaring from nearby. It didn’t matter how long they took – there was nothing else he had to do and nothing else he’d rather do. He’d paid his dues to his family for the day; he was free to lose himself in her and forget about it all until tomorrow. Burying himself deeper and deeper inside her body was the most absolute freedom he knew.

  He eventually slipped into a climax that would’ve dropped him to his knees if the urge to keep thrusting inside her hadn’t been stronger than gravity, stronger than anything. “I love you, Ally,” he said when he finally withdrew, legs shaking from the exertion. “I’m so glad you came with me. To here, New York, I mean.”

  “I love you too, and so am I.”

  “I promise you won’t regret it. You’ll be happy here.” He’d do anything to make sure that was true.

  * * * * *

  She didn’t look happy as she sat alone in the dark, curled up on one end of the leather couch. Lonely, definitely. Sad, probably. Definitely not happy.

  “Hey.” His bare feet were silent on the carpeted floor, so he gave her a warning that he was approaching, not wanting to scare her.

  She jumped like she’d received an electric shock. Thanks to the faint haze of artificial light bleeding through the panoramic window, he could see the tenseness in her muscles, her shoulders rigid beneath the thin t-shirt she’d put on for bed.

  He’d gone to sleep hours before, retreating to the bedroom after sex in an effort to sleep through his lingering migraine. It had worked, but it hurt to look at her and wonder how long she’d spent awake and alone in the living room, inside her own head.

  “Hey.” She turned to face him, the new leather squeaking faintly beneath her. “How do you feel?”

  “Pretty good.” He crossed the room and sank down beside her. “What are you thinking about?”

  He could guess, but it would be better if she said it.

  “Manny.”

  “Mmm.” No surprise there. And he couldn’t blame her for dwelling on the past – not when the tragedy of her brother’s death was so fresh, and especially not when he’d spent an entire year doing the same thing. Hell, he still did it. It was just that now, with a future to look forward to, he was trying not to.

  Still, it wasn’t her fault. He’d get her to see that, even if it took a while, which it probably would. “I hope you’re not still beating yourself up over what happened to him. You’re not to blame for the way he chose to live his life or the way it ended.”

  “I know that. Consciously, I know that. But subconsciously, it’s a different story. Sometimes I feel guilty, even when I know I shouldn’t.”

  There was a difference between knowing something was true and feeling that something was true. A hell of a difference. He knew that.

  He rubbed her back, fingertips drifting across the little bumps of her vertebrae.

  “You know what I mean, don’t you?” she asked, staring out the window at the endless midnight traffic. The city never slept; there was always something to be distracted by.

  “You said something to me not long ago about feeling guilty over how your time in the military ended and the fact that you couldn’t go back. But it ended because of an explosion. You didn’t have any control over that. It just happened to you, and you couldn’t have stopped it. It’s not your fault that you were hurt, or that you weren’t hurt as badly as some of the others.” Her voice faltered on the last note, and she didn’t look away from the window. “And you know that it doesn’t make any sense to feel guilty, right?”

  She knew about Gibson’s death. Feltz had shown her pictures of him, had explained that he’d been killed in the explosion that had ultimately fucked Ryan out of his career in the Marine Corps. He’d wondered, at the time, if she’d ask him about it later.

  He continued to rub her back, trying to banish the tension in her muscles. It didn’t really work, but he kept it up anyway. “Yeah. I guess I know what you mean.”

  He knew he’d keep dreaming, would keep waking up to the agony of reality, realizing he couldn’t go back. At night, his brain would keep trying to change things, keep trying to create a version of the past that was somehow acceptable, or a future that would undo what had happened a year ago. But when he was awake, during his days with Ally, he’d try his best to look ahead instead of back.

  “Tell you what, though,” he said, “I’ll give this fresh start my best try if you will. It might not be easy, but things worth doing usually aren’t. Maybe in time the things that happened in other places – Baltimore, Afghanistan, wherever – won’t be something we think about every day.”

  “Deal.” A little of the tension finally left her muscles as she leaned back against his chest.

  “You ready to come to bed?” He swept a stray lock of hair off her cheek. “Or is this your subtle way of telling me that you want to break in the living room like we broke in the kitchen?”

  She smiled, relaxing a little more against him. “That’s up to you. If we don’t do it tonight, I’m sure we’ll get around to it tomorrow.”

  He slid a hand around her body, cupping one of her breasts. Her t-shirt was so thin that her nipple sprang up hard against his palm. “Who knows, maybe we’ll even make it to the bed at some point.”

  She turned into him and he pulled her down onto the leather, his arms tight around her body.

  Chapter 25

  The restaurant where Ryan had agreed to meet his father was a casual place, supposedly. Still, Patrick wore a suit, as always. In his jeans and the hoodie he’d forced to stretch over his cast, Ryan looked out of place. He felt out of place too, but he probably always would in his father’s presence.

  Father and son – they might as well have been strangers. And yet, Ryan owed him for helping him out, for providing the money and connections necessary to allow him a fresh start at life – a life where he could protect Ally. As he mumbled his way past the hostess, striding toward a corner table, he tried not to think about the things his father owed him.

  This – the chance his parents were financing for him – would just have to be enough. Maybe there was no such thing as a clean slate, but however things had gone in the past, he needed this now. He hated that he needed anything from his parents, but he did. That was that.

  “You’re on time.” Patrick said it like he was accusing Ryan of being late.

  “Were you expecting me not to be?” Ryan settled into a chair, sitting across the table from Patrick.

  “It’s been a while since you’ve been in New York, hasn’t it? I thought you might’ve forgotten how long it takes to get anywhere in the city. Life in Baltimore had to be slower, surely?”

  Of fucking course he’d found a way to make comparisons and try to belittle Ryan’s choices. “I don’t forget much.” He said it more sharply than he’d intended to. It was a bold-faced lie – sometimes he forgot where he’d parked his own car, for fuck’s sake – but a perverse little thrill of satisfaction went through him when Patrick looked taken aback.

  “Anyway,” Patrick recovered, brushing the moment away with his usual brusqueness, “let’s talk business. What kind of position do you think you’re suited for at Greene & Jacobs – what kind of skills did you gain in the military?”

  Ryan hadn’t expected the question, and suddenly found himself grasping for answers. Several ran through his mind, but none of them were what someone like Patrick would want to hear. “The Marine Corps isn’t a corporate environment. I know more about how to survive in the desert than I do about working out of a corner office.”

  “You were less than a year away from a degree in economics when you enlisted. Don’t act like you’re not suited for the corporate world just because you took a different path for a while.”

  Ryan bit back the acidic retort that sprang to his lips. Who was his father to say what he was fit for? He didn’t know him, not at all. Yeah, h
e’d gone to college for a while, but that seemed infinitely farther away than what had happened in the desert. College was like a distant mirage, a half-forgotten dream. He’d walked away from the university with nothing; he’d been flown out of Afghanistan a different person, and he had the scars to prove it.

  Still, he’d come here to make it work in the corporate world. If he hadn’t thought he could pull it off, he wouldn’t have come.

  “All right. I, uh…” Shit, how could he translate the things he’d learned, the way he’d changed, into something that would sound appealing in a corporate context? Or appealing in any context, for that matter.

  “Look, you might not have a degree, but you have more of an education than most people who don’t have a diploma to back up what they know. And at Greene & Jacobs, our hiring managers value the traits veterans bring to the company. The military has a way of cultivating discipline and perseverance that many non-military applicants just don’t possess.”

  He sounded like he was quoting some bullshit hiring pamphlet. Maybe he was, but still, coming from him, it almost sounded like he was … trying to get along. “Okay. It sounds like you’ve thought about this, so why don’t you just tell me – what kind of position do you have in mind for me?”

  “Right now, the company is forming a team of experts who will work together to maximize efficiency and minimize financial and time waste within the company. Greene & Jacobs is doing fairly well, but in this economy, any such waste is significant. We’re a large corporation, and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how hard it can be to keep these sorts of things under control when there are thousands of employees and dozens of departments to consider.”

  “And you think I qualify as an expert?”

  “After your time in the military, I’m sure you know some things about efficiency and discipline, which are elements many of our departments are lacking. So yes, I think that qualifies you to be a part of this team. There will be other members, of course, from various departments, and some experts in their various respective fields that we’re bringing in on a shorter term basis to help us develop and implement our initial plan of action. Over time, they’ll be phased out, but a core team of managers will remain permanently, and those will include you.”

  “You know I was just an enlisted man. I wasn’t in charge of anything like this in the Marine Corps. Hell, when I wasn’t sleeping, I was taking orders.”

  “You’ll bring a unique perspective to the team. I’m not asking you to be like everyone else you’ll be working with – I’m asking you to be different, to be yourself. That’s what will make you valuable to Greene & Jacobs.”

  It sounded good. A little too good to be true, or at least, a little too good to be coming from his father’s mouth. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to be forced upon the other members of the team just because you need to find a place to put me.” The last thing he wanted was to be a burden to one more person, let alone a whole group. “And … God, tell me you didn’t come up with the idea for this initiative just because of me.”

  “I didn’t. I didn’t even come up with this. The idea has been in development for months, and we’ll be presenting it to shareholders in a few weeks. I feel strongly that this is the best place for you at Greene & Jacobs, Ryan. Does it make a difference that you’re my son? Absolutely. But I wouldn’t give you a job you’re not suited for – not least of all because you asked me not to.”

  Ryan sat, faintly stunned, and let the dull roar of chatter fill his head, a not-quite white noise that was punctuated here and there by the clanking of silverware. It was just past noon, prime lunch hour, and the place was obviously popular. Sometimes, large crowds made him want to zone out, an automatic response that helped keep him from being overwhelmed. He had to fight to focus on anything, to ignore what was going on around him, like when he was in the cage.

  “Okay. If you think that’s where I fit in with the company, I’ll take the job. Thanks.”

  He repressed a sigh of relief. It was done – he had a job, and the purpose he’d met his father for had been fulfilled. Patrick was always high on commitments and short on time – he wouldn’t mind if Ryan left. He’d probably be glad for the chance to skip out early and get back to work.

  “You haven’t even ordered yet,” Patrick said when Ryan pushed back his chair and stood. For a moment, he looked baffled, then his gaze flickered toward the opposite side of the restaurant. “Unless… I mean, the restrooms are over there.”

  “Actually, I was leaving. I thought…”

  “Am I really that unbearable? There’s a reason we met at a restaurant at noon. For Christ’s sake, sit down and eat something.”

  A harried-looking waiter arrived at that moment, and as he asked for their order, Ryan sank back into his chair, rattling off the first item that caught his eye when he glanced at the menu.

  “I just thought you’d be in a hurry to get back to work,” Ryan said after the waiter left.

  “This is only the second time I’ve seen you in years, and yesterday was a poor excuse for a reunion. I cleared my schedule from eleven-thirty until two today. We can at least eat lunch together, can’t we?”

  Two and a half hours, mid-week. A priceless chunk of time as far as the father Ryan had known years ago would’ve been concerned. Something told him that he still valued his time just as highly, which was what prompted Ryan to nod. “All right.”

  “So, tell me about Ally. You two must be pretty serious if she moved up here with you. Is she, uh…?”

  “What?”

  “Pregnant. Is she pregnant?”

  A bolt of anger pulsed through Ryan’s skull, so hot it made his eyes water. “No. Why would you think that?” Too late, he realized that he’d shouted, that people were staring. It didn’t take him long to decide he didn’t give a damn.

  “Sorry,” Patrick said, sipping his water slowly, as if he hadn’t just made an ass of himself. “I just thought… You were so adamant about not moving back, about rejecting our offer for help. Even I started to think we’d never get you to come around. Then you called us up out of the blue and said you’d changed your mind. It was unexpected. Welcome, but unexpected.”

  “It’s not about a baby – there is no baby – and it’s not about obligation. It’s about her. I couldn’t give her a good life in Baltimore, and she deserves one. It wasn’t a good place for either of us – it took something drastic to make me realize that it never would be. I’m doing this for her.”

  Patrick raised one eyebrow slightly, but didn’t press for more information. “Well, your mother and I are glad to have you back.”

  “I know, but you need to realize … I want to do this on my own. I appreciate the help, but I only want it to be temporary. That’s why I was pissed about the furniture. Things can’t be like they were before, when I was a kid. This will never work if you and mom don’t realize that.”

  Patrick stared, nodded and took a sip from his glass. “You think I don’t realize that things have changed? You’re my son, and this is the first real conversation I’ve had with you in years. The silence, the estrangement … that was a pretty big clue.”

  “Yeah, well, forgive me for doubting that you understood that after the way you and mom interrogated people from my old unit, sent me flowers and called me up acting bewildered when I didn’t want to come rushing back to New York.” The familiar bitterness rose up as he remembered the pieces of his phone scattered among wilting flowers in the kitchen trashcan.

  “Damn it Ryan, of course we contacted people from your unit. We hadn’t heard from you in an eternity, your old number had been disconnected and when a letter sent to your North Carolina address was returned, we had no idea how to get in contact with you. Your mother was afraid you’d been killed.

  “When she found out you were alive and out of the military, she was so relieved and so excited there was nothing I could do to keep her from going over the top. You know the sofas in your living room? She saw them in th
e display window of a furniture store and bought them on the spot, even though she’d spent hours crying the day before after you hung up on her.

  “She was convinced that you’d move back eventually, and for some reason she thought you’d like the furniture. I swear, it was just like when she was pregnant and wanted to buy every toy and baby outfit she saw. I let her buy the couches because I couldn’t stand the thought of watching her break down on the street, in front of the store window.”

  As Ryan imagined his mother and father standing on the sidewalk in front of a furniture store, a thread of guilt wove its way through the hot mess of his emotions. Guilt was a familiar feeling, but not when his parents were involved. Sitting there feeling it while staring at his father felt foreign, bizarre.

  Still, there were reasons why he’d never imagined his mother getting so emotional over the prospect of him coming home. “How was I supposed to know she was so upset? She didn’t seem to care much more than you did, before. You guys hardly ever wrote, at first, and then you stopped. You never—”

  He cut himself off when a tight feeling gripped him by the throat. Fuck, after so much time, how was it that he couldn’t finish his sentence? Why did he care? “Both of you stopped caring about me after I dropped out of college and joined the Marine Corps, and you know it.”

  “We never stopped caring.”

  “The hell you didn’t.” He had to force himself to keep his voice low. There were already a few people who kept looking in their direction, obviously listening in. It was hard enough to bare a part of his soul, however tiny, to his father, let alone a restaurant full of strangers. He’d kept the thoughts he was spilling now guarded for so long, had tried his damndest to reconcile himself with the facts that had been so hard to accept.

  “I tried,” Patrick said, his voice lower now too. “I tried not to care, and I encouraged your mother to do the same. You know why? Because it was hard. It was more than I could handle, actually, watching you enlist in the military – as a marine for Christ’s sake, someone who specialized in combat.