Stark Resolution (Stark Trilogy Book 3)

by C. D. Bradley

  The debriefing said that a drug lord kidnapped them and that the terrorist group had attacked over some kind of turf war. Though she couldn’t remember exactly what happened, that sequence of events seemed wrong to her. Why was that?

  Kira walked until the concrete wall would not permit her to go any farther. She contemplated going down the stairs, but feared she would set off a fire alarm if she opened the doorway into the stairwell. She turned around and started back up the hallway.

  Maybe if she could get Holt to tell her about what they were studying it would trigger her memory. Several of the rooms had the sounds of late night TV coming through the door. I must not be the only insomniac tonight.

  She stifled a giggle as she passed a room and heard the soft sounds of porn drift into the hallway. She took a few more steps and the craziest memories started coming back. Not about her mission. Owen Stark was part of a sex club. Oh… shit. She remembered Paige and Zoe, Lysander, and seeing Stark. It came flooding back and took her breath. Kira leaned back against the wall. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. How had something that started out so perfect ended up so dark? Was this why they broke up? God who was this man. She was sick of this back and forth. She was tired of hurting and having her heart broken. Why does he haunt me so? Why can I not just put him out of my mind and move on with a man who is willing to do anything for me? Why can’t I just love Holt, like any smart woman would?

  She walked on down the hall trying to shake the memories from her head. When she first met Owen Stark he was like nothing she had ever encountered. Standing with him at the top of the world the future seemed so bright. But was that all a lie? She remembered fighting with him in California at his parents’ home. Shit. She was sick of all these battles. He just stood there and watched me hurt. He let me walk out. It was over. Tears started to fall.

  Kira closed her eyes and forced herself to take several deep breaths. I am in Walter Reed Hospital. I was shot but I am ok. I am safe. Talking yourself down from a bad dream didn’t help if you were awake and the nightmare was real. She felt a million miles apart from the happy girl that she remembered sometimes. What would she give to go back to that life? She held on to her memories. She just wanted to see him one more time … To touch him … to smell him.

  She took another deep breath. The mind is a powerful thing. She imagined that she could smell his cologne. Now I am losing my mind. Kira shook her head and stood back upright. She needed to get the hell out of there. First, she imagined that some poor guy in a wheelchair was him. Now, she was imagining his cologne in some poor soul’s room.

  Kira had only taken three steps when someone cried out.

  “Kira! God no, Kira!” he yelled from the dark room.

  She froze in her tracks. She knew that voice.

  She stood in the hallway for what seemed like eternity. Wasn’t anyone coming to help him? She listened to him thrashing around and drew closer to the door. She stood silently in the hall and cautiously placed her hand on the frame. She could hear him in the throes of his night terror and it broke her heart. She wanted to burst in and tell him everything would be ok, that it was just a dream.

  This is insane! I can’t go in some stranger’s hospital room in middle of the night. Who does things like that? This is real life, not some kinky story. That’s just asking to be found in a dumpster or the laundry bin. She knew better than to wake someone in the middle of a PTSD dream as the person could be violent without realizing it. She rested her head against his door and silently prayed for him to wake and be ok.

  He cried out again and she heard a crash from inside the room.

  “Oh God!” she gasped loudly and jumped back. Her sudden movement pushed the door a little farther ajar.

  The dark room was deadly silent. Kira stood listening in the doorway, afraid to move. She struggled to listen for him over the pounding heartbeat in her ears. She inhaled him. The mix of cologne and sweat that could only belong to Owen Stark swirled out of the dark space and encircled her, drawing her in.

  She stood paralyzed in the doorway. I should take off down the hall … Get the hell back to my room. She couldn’t move.

  “Hello? Is someone there?” his gruff groggy voice called from the darkness.

  The depth and breadth of each syllable reverberated through her very core. She could barely breathe. Is it really him?

  “Who is there?” His voice was sharper this time. Colder. The bed rails rattled as he moved around in the dark.

  Fuck, what if it isn’t him? She knew it was him. I should take off. If he wanted to see me, to talk to me, he would have. I was just down the God damn hallway. But what if he didn’t know I was here?

  “Who is there? I can hear you, you’re not very fucking quiet,” he called again, his voice dark and angry now.

  “I … I was just taking a walk and heard you yell. I’m sorry to disturb you. If you’re ok, I’ll just go,” Kira stammered as she put trembling fingers to her face.

  Silence. She listened breathlessly for a response, but for an eternity none came. She took a step back from the door and then another. Tears formed and she turned to leave. He wanted nothing to do with her.

  “Kira …” A shaky voice called quietly from the darkness, “Is that you … Is that really you?”

  She stopped and her breath caught in her throat. She turned back toward the room. She could barely speak through the lump that formed where her larynx used to be. “Owen?” She managed to get it out as she stumbled forward and clasped his doorframe.

  She stood for a moment to catch her breath. He was here all this time. All the anger and heartbreak were overwhelmed by the desire to just see him. She just had to see him. Even if it broke her. Mustering every ounce of courage in her body, Kira stepped in the room and flipped on the light.

  She could barely believe her eyes. There in the ordinary hospital bed, was Owen, fucking, Stark. His dark hair was disheveled from waging war with his dreams. Sweat brimmed his strong brow and his stormy blue eyes stared back at her, wild and ready. His bare chest heaved with each excited breath. She stood for a minute taking him in.

  All caution, all rational thought melted in the presence of this man. Before she knew what she was doing, she crossed the room and threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped her small frame up in his massive arms and pulled her to him.

  “Fuck … Kira …” was all he could get out before his mouth crashed down on hers. His fingers clasped into the back of her hair pulling her even closer as their tongues reclaimed lost territory.

  After what felt like a lifetime apart, Kira wanted nothing more than to melt into him completely. He was the fire that consumed her. His mouth left hers, and moved down her neck devouring every inch of skin in his path. The electricity of his lips sent jolts through her body. He tilted her head back with one hand, and in one swift motion, pulled her sweatshirt off with the other. The sudden cool air made her shiver. He pulled her back to him. He put his arms around her and she was home. The heat that passed between them transcended every fear or doubt and she knew he could see right through any wall she put up.

  The crumpled sweatshirt fell formless onto the cold tile floor, discarded with any better judgment she might have had. The nurse call button hung aimlessly from his bedside … A forgotten link to the desk of bored nurses and aides not one hundred feet away. Would they come to check on him? She didn’t care.

  In this moment, all the rest of the world faded away. Her lips found his and she slid her hands through his hair. One millimeter of space between them was infinitely too much. His hands slid down to her hips and moved her so that she straddled him in the bed. She felt the rigid line of his neglected cock pressing into her clit. The intrusive sweats needed to go. She needed to feel him inside her. The ache gnawed at her and threatened to devour her from the inside out if not quenched.

  His fingers raked down her naked back and grabbed a hold of her ass. He moved her back and forth over his rigid mast. The thrill of each movement hit her t
hrobbing nub and transmitted shock waves of pleasure through her long-ignored body. The endorphins of running were a mere kiddie pool compared to the ocean of pleasure he could elicit. She slid her hand down his hip but he stopped her.

  “Kira,” he breathed, as he bit at her neck. He moved so that his lips were brushing her ear as he spoke, “I never thought I would be able to touch you again. I can’t believe you are really fucking here.” His voice broke as the doubt slipped out of his mouth and he pulled away.

  His words crashed over her like a wave from a wrought and lonely sea. The darkness and uncertainty that separated them seemed like a great storm that washed his vessel so far from shore he could no longer see the lighthouse. The distant wind had swept him up and taken him away.

  “I am here, Owen. I’m right here. Why didn’t you come to me? Did you not want me?” She sat up and looked at his beautiful, tortured face. The dim lights of the hospital room spilled over his features. She could see the hell he had walked through in every line and scar. His love was a ghost that always seemed just beyond reach. She searched him for answers.

  “I never wanted anything more,” he said quietly, but looked away. “I wouldn’t trade a thing for the time I had with you.” He swallowed hard, and gently held her at arm’s length.

  “What are you talking about? I am here now. Be with me now.” Kira fought tears and fear that crept up and threatened to overtake her. “I love you. I am here, and I love you.” She took a breath and gripped his hands in hers. “We’ve made some mistakes. Life is not fucking perfect, but I know you love me too. I see it in your eyes.”

  He looked away from her down to the floor and shook his head. “You don't know anything,” he started, but stopped. He swallowed hard and continued, “You were always the best part of my life, but it’s too late for that now. You need to go.” He was still looking at the floor.

  “How long do you plan to keep this up?” She was having trouble breathing. “Are you so fucking mad about something I have done that I don’t even fucking remember, that you hate me? How long are you going to hold it against me?” She was sobbing now and didn’t give two fucks.

  “I will never hate you,” he said with a pathetic laugh. “I’m so tired, Kira. You deserve so much more than what I can give you. You are moving on and so am I.” His voice was suddenly lonely and cold.

  “What the hell do you mean, Owen?” She sat back. Kira suddenly felt cold and exposed. She looked down at her crumpled shirt laying in the floor tangled with her broken hopes and dreams.

  “I saw you with Holt.” Before she could respond he put a finger to her lips and continued, “Before you say anything, I saw how happy you were. I want that for you.” He took her hands and kissed them.

  “If you think I’m just going to let you walk out of my life now, you’re crazy!” she seethed, and jumped up tangled in the blankets, and fell to the floor.

  Silence filled the room like a million gallons of sand suffocating them both. Kira stood open-mouthed staring at the bandaged stump.

  “Oh God. Owen!” She felt like she was falling, “What? How?”

  The look of horror on her face said more than any words ever could. He died a thousand times in that moment. It was everything he had dreaded and wanted to avoid. The pity and the disgust he couldn’t bear to see on the faces of strangers and well-meaning civilians, now betrayed Kira’s soft features. The love of his life was over. He couldn’t stomach her looking at him like this.

  “Get out,” he said quietly, not wanting to have her there for another excruciating minute. He couldn’t bear it. What can I even say? I can’t tell her I lost my leg and my best friend trying to make up for shooting her in the first place. Fuck!

  “You can’t be serious. Is this why you didn’t want to come see me?” Her frail voice wavered.

  “Don’t be so full of yourself, princess, not everything is about you.” He hated the words that spilled like venom from his mouth. He needed her to leave. He didn’t deserve to have her here. His life was over.

  “No. No. Owen …” She grabbed her shirt and held it to her chest. “I know you don’t mean that.” Her chest heaved from fighting the sobs. “Who do you think you are?”

  He couldn’t take one more minute of her being there. The only thing that remained was regret. “You don’t know anything. Leave Kira, and don’t come back. We are over. This is over.” His voice was a frigid reminder of all the hate and rage he felt. He would learn to live half a life if he lived at all. She would be fine. She would move on.

  The crumpled dreams that spilled down her face nearly killed him. She took another step back and put her shirt on. She was shaking her head like she couldn’t accept the reality of what was happening. She took a shuddered breath and bolted from the room.

  He heard her slump against the wall just outside the room, sobbing and chanting to herself.

  “I am at Walter Reed Hospital. I have been shot, but I am ok. I am safe …”

  Stark knew the mantra, but he had learned to make friends with the nightmares. Maybe one day I could slip into the darkness and just stay. There was nothing left here anyway.

  “GOOD MORNING! HEY sleeping beauty, it’s almost nine thirty. You’re breakfast tray is cold.” Holt entered the room speaking entirely too loud.

  Kira half opened her eyes. “What are you doing here so early?” she mumbled and pulled the blankets back over her head.

  “It’s not early. It really is nine thirty. We are late for PT. Did you have trouble sleeping again? I thought we talked about this. They wrote for medication to help you sleep.” He jostled her pillow and encouraged her to sit up. “I think we should talk about this with Dr. Meadows when you go for counseling this afternoon.”

  Kira sat up. Coffee. There must be coffee. She sat sideways on the bed and scanned the icy breakfast tray for coffee. No dice. She let out an exhausted groan. After leaving Stark’s room, Kira had come back and spent most of the night cursing and crying. Sleep eluded her until well after the sun had peeked its vengeful rays through the blinds.

  She looked up at Holt and his chipper, well rested smile. “Would you go to the nurse’s station and get me a cup of coffee, please?” Kira hoped this little mission would get him out of her hair for a few minutes. She needed to wake up and think in peace. She wanted to process what happened with Stark last night, but wasn’t sure about telling Holt or Dr. Meadows. Did they know all this time he was here? Was it a coincidence? What had happened to him? Questions rolled through her mind. Her emotions had gotten the better of her last night. She was just so stunned.

  She still couldn’t get the image of his bandaged stump out of her head. He looked horrified, exposed, and angry. The hatred on his face ripped her heart out. He didn’t seem like the same man. What was he going to do now? The team was all he knew. She remembered when she first met him. During the exam, he had told her that the team was his life. They were all the family he needed. How was he going to do this without them? She wanted to be there for him, to help him recover, but he wanted nothing to do with her. Questions still swirled around in her head when Holt returned with piping hot coffee.

  The aroma was heavenly. “This isn’t nurses station coffee,” she said taking the white venti cup.

  “You seemed like you were having a rough morning, so I thought some Starbuck’s from downstairs was in order.” He smiled, and produced a paper bag to go with it.

  “What is that?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “It’s a cranberry bliss bar. Do you know anyone who needs some bliss this morning?” he answered, swinging the bag back and forth.

  She did know someone. Kira let out a long sigh. How could she go along with this happy life when she knew just down the hall a hero lay suffering? This whole damn hospital was filled with heroes who were fighting battles alone while the rest of the world just kept turning outside.

  “Would you rather have a scone?” he asked, trying to make a joke. His voice fell with disappointment.

>   “I’m sorry, Holt. I … I saw Stark last night,” she said slumping back onto the bed.

  “You what? Where? How?” Panic and concern filled his handsome features, “Are you ok?”

  “Not really. He is here on this floor in the surgery wing. He evidently hates me, and …” She looked at the floor. “He was injured. He lost his right leg. He didn’t even let me talk to him about it. He just kicked me out.”

  “Did you ask him how it happened?” Holt asked.

  “No, he kicked me out. He wouldn’t even talk to me. I told you he hates me.” She was shaking her head.

  Holt set the bag on the bedside table and put his arm around Kira.

  “Do you think that is for the best? He might need some space,” he asked, hopefully.

  “What do you mean?” Kira asked, dejected.

  “It sounds like he is going through a lot right now. Maybe he just needs time to work through it,” Holt offered.

  “We were broken up before this happened,” she said, shaking her head. “He said I was moving on, and he was too.”

  “You are supposed to get released in the next couple days. You are getting stronger every day. Soon, you and I will have to go back to Colorado,” Holt started. “We can start over at home.”

  “Start over?” Kira looked at him. What was he expecting her to do?

  “You and me. We can put this chapter of our lives behind us and start over. You won’t have to worry about anything. I will take care of you.” He was dead serious.

  Kira looked at the floor. For any other girl in the world that would probably sweep her off her feet. Kira moved away from him. She looked up at his blond hair and beautiful features. He really was a very handsome man. He was everything some girls dream about. He was safe and kind. He really had been by her side through thick and thin. If she loved him, things would be perfect.

  “But right now, you don’t want that, do you?” he said slowly. He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Then you should try to talk to him again.”