by Aly Martinez
Jeremy Lark had been wrong though.
God hadn’t blessed me.
Not that night.
And certainly not six weeks later, when I lost him forever.
Present day…
I was lounging in my bed when I heard Whitney turn the shower on in the bathroom. The pipes in that old house screamed, jarring my teeth.
“Sorry!” she yelled. She said that every single time she turned the water on as if she had made the noise herself.
I didn’t have to yell when I replied, “It’s okay.” The walls in that house were paper-thin. I swear I could hear her plucking her eyebrows sometimes.
Snuggling deeper into my bed, I pulled a snoozing Bitsy onto my chest. She burrowed between my boobs—her favorite place to sleep—and then let out an adorable puppy sigh.
“I know, sweet girl. It’s been quite a day,” I whispered, pulling the blanket up to cover us both.
We’d been busy preparing for the move. Surprisingly enough, Sherri and Tammy had been super supportive when Whitney and I had told them that we’d found a place. They’d even bought a celebratory twelve-pack and pitched in to help us pack for a few hours before they’d had to leave for the club.
Three beers later, I had a nice little buzz and a room full of boxes. I should have been able to fall asleep with no problems. But, as it so often did, my mind refused to shut down. Anxiety was awesome like that.
Staring at the ceiling, I tried to focus on the positives of this move.
The extra space.
The peace and quiet.
The fresh start.
The additional rent.
The higher utility bills.
The prospect of never being able to open the bar.
The reality that I might be stuck in this life forever.
“Fuck,” I groaned, sitting up in bed, and grabbed my phone off the nightstand.
With dread churning in my stomach, I stared at that little, blue icon with the white F, and before I could stop myself, I clicked on it. I shouldn’t have been on there. It wasn’t going to help me find sleep. Facebook was a drug. And I was an addict. So much so that I only allowed myself to check it once a month because, regardless of how harmless I told myself it was, it’d always leave me hung over the next day.
Eyes swollen from crying.
Body aching with regret.
Heart heavy with reality.
It was torture. But, like a masochist, I kept going back for more.
I scrolled through various political rants, viral cooking videos, and pictures of happy families on my newsfeed until…
“Jesus,” I breathed.
He didn’t post much. So my once-a-month visits usually only garnered me a few pictures and maybe a shared article about the military. But they were always enough to send me reeling.
Jeremy Lark had been gorgeous in his twenties, but he’d grown into a beautiful man. His lean muscles now held more bulk, and his once boyish face was now made up of sharp angles and a chiseled jaw. He still had a thick head of dark hair with red highlights, and he kept it clipped short much like he had in the military. His hazel eyes still sparkled with mischief, but they were somehow more guarded than those of the carefree boy I’d once known.
In some ways, he was exactly the same.
Yet completely different.
He was wearing a black T-shirt with the words Guardian Protection Agency stretched over his muscular chest. His lips were split in a glowing smile, showing off his straight, white teeth. Well, all except that one on the top right that turned in just the tiniest bit. I knew that one well. I used to stare at it when he’d be lost in laughter. And, with the two of us, that happened a lot.
He was sitting on the redbrick front steps of a large, two-story home. It was gorgeous, with perfectly manicured flowerbeds and a huge covered porch that all but demanded rocking chairs. It wasn’t in the mountains the way he’d always dreamed about, but it was still perfect.
His strong arms were hooked around identical little girls. They were nearing four, and their red ringlets now hung over their shoulders. Amelia was on his left. She had the most adorable crooked smile. It was the only discernible difference between her and her twin sister, Sophie.
I’d never forget the day I’d logged in and found a picture of him with a very pregnant woman. They’d both been smiling at the camera, and I knew Jeremy—or at least I had—and his was genuine. Not at all like the ones I’d aimed at Kurt so often over the years. Jeremy’s large hand had been resting on her extremely swollen belly, his other arm slung around her shoulders. Before that moment, I’d never in my life experienced the simultaneous feelings of elation and agony.
I’d been happy for him. I’d learned from the caption that her name was Melissa, and even the jealousy I had no right to feel wouldn’t let me deny that she was stunning. Long, red hair flowed in waves, and her green eyes were bright with life. From her tasteful jewelry to her manicured fingernails, all the way down to her designer heels, she was a classic beauty. Just like he’d deserved.
Numerous times when we had been younger, he’d told me that he’d wanted kids—a family he could call his own.
And that day, well over a decade after I’d been a coward and sent him away, I’d stared down at my phone with tears leaking from my eyes and a huge smile on my face, knowing he was finally getting what he’d always wanted.
Even if I wasn’t.
At least one of us deserved to be happy. And, as I’d learned so many years earlier, it wasn’t going to be me.
I jumped when my door suddenly cracked open. Bitsy flew to her feet and started barking only to quiet when Whitney walked inside.
“You okay?” she asked, concern crinkling her forehead.
I shimmied up in bed. “Yeah. Why? You?”
She frowned. “I heard you crying when I got out of the shower.”
I quickly lifted my hands to my face, and sure enough, there were tears streaming down my cheeks. I pointed to my phone. “Damn animal rescue videos. They get me every time.”
She tightened her towel around her and then propped her shoulder against the doorjamb. “You worried about the move?”
“No,” I semi-lied.
Her frown deepened. “You thinking about Kurt?”
“What? Dear God, no!”
Though that was another semi-lie because I could never think about Jeremy without thinking about Kurt.
Sighing, she walked over to my bed and scooped up Bitsy for a snuggle. Without making eye contact, she said, “It’d be okay if you were, ya know. You two were married a really long time. And I know things didn’t go quite as you planned when you got a divorce, but I’m sure you have to miss him sometimes.”
Things had never gone as planned with Kurt. Not when we’d started dating. Not when he’d started cheating on me. Not when I’d started cheating on him. Not when he’d gotten Jeremy kicked out of the Army. Not when we’d gotten married. Not when he’d started using steroids. Not when he had gotten kicked out of the Army. Not when he’d started selling steroids. And especially not when he’d gotten arrested and sentenced to twenty years in a federal penitentiary. Hell, our divorce might have been the only thing that had ever gone as planned. It had been coming since approximately twenty minutes after we’d met.
I set my phone on the nightstand and then folded my hands over my stomach. “Whit, honey. I’m not thinking about Kurt. And I’m definitely not missing him.”
“But if you were…”
“I’m not!” I snapped, guilt immediately icing my frustration. “I’m sorry. I’m just…tired.”
She offered me a sad smile and then deposited Bitsy on the foot of the bed. “Okay. Then I’ll let you get some sleep. But stop stressing about the move. And no more animal rescue videos.”
I chuckled. I was thirteen years her senior and she was still taking care of me.
“Yes, Mommy.”
She winked and headed for the door. “All right. Lights out. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
/>
She was right, and if I picked my phone back up, who knew how long it would be before I found any rest, more than likely with tears soaking my pillow.
“Night, Whit.”
She smiled warmly. “Night, Mir.”
Five days before I lost him…
“I hope this hurts,” I hissed, holding a cold beer to Jeremy’s swollen eye.
“Get off me.” He snatched the can from my hand and jumped off the tailgate.
I looked to Kurt, who was standing in a pressed baby-blue dress shirt, dark washed jeans, and trendy boots that cost more than the entirety of my wardrobe. His short, blond hair was perfectly styled, gel and all, not a strand out of place.
Yet, he’d told me that he was going to sleep before hanging up on me earlier. I swear it was like he picked fights so he could have an excuse to go downtown without me.
“He needs to ice that,” I gritted out through clenched teeth.
He kept his gaze leveled on Jeremy. “No, what he needs is a new brain.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Jeremy snapped, popping the beer open before throwing it back for a long draw.
Kurt’s jaw tensed as he marched over and grabbed it from his hand mid-sip. “Christ, you really are an idiot. You can’t chug a fucking beer in the middle of the gas station parking lot. Are you trying to get arrested tonight?”
Kurt dumped the beer on the ground and tossed the empty into the back of Jeremy’s truck. A pang of guilt hit me when it clanged against our fully stocked cooler. Jeremy and I had been planning to head out into the woods. But, when he’d arrived to pick me up, I had been in the middle of an all-out brawl with my mom’s new boyfriend. They weren’t common. But they definitely weren’t unusual. The guys knew that Ron was a nasty drunk, but I’d downplayed how rough it really got. He was yet another reason I needed to get the hell out of there. But I needed time to figure out a plan first. However, thanks to Jeremy’s beating the shit out of him and then my mom kicking me out, it was now time I did not have.
After I’d dragged him to his truck, we’d driven to the gas station, where I’d used the payphone to call Kurt’s cell. I hadn’t known what else to do. I was worried about sending Jeremy back to post with two swollen eyes, a busted lip, and a split eyebrow. He already had two strikes against him. To hear Kurt tell it, Jeremy’s chain of command was looking for a reason to chapter him out of the Army. I couldn’t be responsible for that.
Jeremy got into Kurt’s face. “No. I was trying to do your fucking job.”
Kurt jolted, the muscles in his neck straining as his back bowed. “Excuse me.”
Aaaaand that was my cue.
I hopped off the tailgate and squeezed between them. “Stop. People are watching.”
Jeremy leaned around me. “Yeah, I said it. Your fucking job. She’s been showing up with bruises for weeks. And you haven’t done one goddamn thing about it. For fuck’s sake, she had a size-twelve boot mark on her back last week!”
Kurt’s eyes narrowed. “And how the hell would you know about that?”
Uh oh.
I opened my mouth for what I hoped would be a sharp response, but nothing came out. For a woman who was sneaking around behind my boyfriend’s back, I was shit for a liar.
Thankfully, Jeremy was not.
He laughed. “Because it looked like a fucking shoe advertisement hanging out of her tank top at dinner last weekend. And you did dick about it.”
Kurt grew angry, but I mildly relaxed.
Turning to face Jeremy, in order to keep the guilt on my face hidden from Kurt, I said, “Because I told him not to. The same damn way I told you not to do anything stupid, either. Yet here we are!”
Jeremy laughed again. “Right. Next time, I’ll sit back and drink a beer while I wait for that piece of shit to knock you unconscious.” He pointedly glanced to my busted lip. “Would that be better for you?”
“Yeah. It really would. Because at least then I wouldn’t be homeless.”
“And probably not alive, either!”
I rolled my eyes. “Could you possibly be a little more dramatic here? He slapped me.” And dragged me out of my room by my hair. But, luckily Jeremy had missed that.
He planted his hands on his hips. “Oh, I’m being dramatic now? Well, heads up, Mir. If that man ever lifts a hand in your direction again, it’s going to be a whole new level of dramatics. The kind where he ends up in a body bag.”
My attitude momentarily slipped as my chest started doing some seriously warm things. Jeremy was hotheaded about pretty much everything, but when it came to me…he was so far over the top that he wasn’t even visible on the horizon anymore.
I loved it—almost as much as I hated it.
It was sweet, and it made me feel important.
But it was also reckless and irresponsible. Two words that might as well have been the definition of Jeremy Lark.
I shook my head, focusing on the issue at hand. “Awesome. He’s in a body bag, and you’re in jail. Really great plan, Jer.”
“You got a better idea? I’m all ears, Mir.” He stressed my nickname like an insult.
“Um, how about we don’t get me kicked out of my house when I have nowhere to fucking go?”
He scoffed. “Nowhere is still a hell of a lot better than staying there and dealing with him hitting you.”
“No, it’s not!” I yelled. “Damn it, Jeremy. You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I don’t?” he whispered ominously.
He did. More than anyone. But that didn’t change the fact that his temper had once again put me in a seriously bad situation.
I pushed up onto my toes and yelled, “I have twelve dollars in the bank! Twelve! No car, and now, I have no one to take me to and from work, which means, by tomorrow, I’m going to have zero dollars for the foreseeable future.”
He twisted his lips. “Don’t be stupid. You know I’ll pick you up from work.”
I threw my hands out to my sides and let them slap on my thighs on the way down. “Oh, goodie! I’ll be sure to pick the bridge closest to your barracks to live under. Ya know, to make it convenient for you.”
What little I could see of his swelling eyes flashed dark. “You don’t have to have an attitude here.”
“Are you kidding me? An attitude is all I can afford to have right now!”
He groaned, the fight momentarily leaving him. He reached out and gave my hip a squeeze. “Just get off my ass and let me think for a minute. I’ll figure it out, okay?”
I sighed. I wanted to believe him. But short of letting me live in his truck—which he probably would have done if I’d asked—he had no way to fix this.
“I’ll figure it out,” Kurt stated definitively.
Jeremy and I jumped in surprise. It should have been the blinking neon light of reasons why Jeremy and I belonged together. Kurt had been standing right there and we’d both gotten so wrapped up in each other that we’d forgotten about him altogether.
Jeremy’s hand instantly fell away from my hip.
I spun to face my boyfriend. “You don’t have to—”
His face was hard, but he slung his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side. His words were for me, but he pointedly kept his gaze locked on his best friend. “I’ll call my parents and borrow some money for the first and last on an apartment. I’m sure Sgt. Richardson will grant me permission for off-post housing.” He glanced down at me and smiled. “We can move in together. I pay the bills, you do all the housework.” He dipped low and kissed my temple, where he finished with, “Naked.”
Pain consumed me as I watched Jeremy’s handsome face remain heartbreakingly emotionless. He didn’t care if I moved in with Kurt. And that slashed through me like the sharpest blade.
“No. I can’t ask you to do that,” I whispered to Kurt.
Jeremy shifted his weight between his feet but remained utterly silent.
Kurt cocked his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re mine. I’ll
take care of you. Besides, Jeremy’s right. I should have done something about Ron before now. We’re all really lucky he was there tonight.” He tipped his chin to the cooler in the back of Jeremy’s truck. “Especially since he told me he was staying in tonight.”
Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuuuuuuck.
My stomach knotted, and my throat closed.
But, once again, Jeremy came to the rescue. Really, it should have worried me how good he was at lying.
He smiled. “She called and asked if I’d drive her to the barracks to surprise you.” He took a step closer and lowered his voice as if I weren’t standing right fucking there. “I convinced her drinking a couple beers with me was a better idea.”
He was so full of it. We’d been heading to our place in the woods after my big fight with Kurt. And, since Kurt wasn’t in a pair of pajamas but rather his favorite downtown club attire, it was safe to say we’d all been up to no good that night.
Only Jeremy had been there for me.
And Kurt had been looking for someone else.
Stepping out of Kurt’s arms, I blurted, “Actually, that’s not why I called Jeremy tonight.”
“Mira. Don’t,” Jeremy breathed.
“Don’t what?” Kurt asked, swinging his head between us.
Mentally, I weighed the pros and cons of telling Kurt the truth, of finally hurting him and forcing him away once and for all. This whole charade was exhausting.
Right then, I could have ended it all.
The betrayal and the pain.
But there was always one thing that kept me from telling Kurt.
My stomach soured as I peeked up at Jeremy through my lashes. The panic on his face cut me to the quick.
I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want Kurt to find out.
No matter how sweet, kind, and protective he seemed, I was Jeremy Lark’s dirtiest secret of all.
“I tried calling you tonight. You didn’t answer. So I thought maybe you were—”
“I went out for a drink with Ken. I figured you were still mad at me, so I didn’t bother to call. I’m sorry.”
Lies. Our universal language.
As long as we were all telling them, a few more wouldn’t hurt.