Love Me

by Olivia Cunning

  Was he dirty?

  “Where am I?” he asked, his voice so hoarse he scarcely recognized it as his own. The persistent ringing in his ears, which had never completely gone away since the explosion, muffled every sound anyway.

  “We told you when you first arrived,” she said. “Try to remember.”

  He closed his eye—the one not bandaged over—and tried to find focus, but everything that had happened in the last week was one giant blur of being moved from place to place and of various medical staff telling him information he couldn’t keep straight.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted, wishing the bed beneath him would swallow him. Had he lost his mind as well as his leg, a young soldier he’d been responsible for training, his bomb-sniffing canine, his career, and God only knew what else?

  “You’re at the San Antonio Military Medical Center on Fort Sam.”

  “Texas?” A knot swelled in his throat, threatening to choke him.

  “That’s right.” She squeezed his shoulder. “You’re home, soldier.”

  “Home.” Well, close. Austin was a mere eighty miles away. A hot tear streaked from beneath Chad’s closed lid and down the side of his face. Tears? He gritted his teeth, hating his weakness. Marines couldn’t afford to show weakness. But while at heart he’d always be a soldier, his body was no longer fit for combat. It didn’t matter that to make Josie happy and to try to rekindle the relationship that had fizzled while he’d been gone, he’d decided not to reenlist. Giving up the military had been his choice. Hitting that trip wire had been chance. He gritted his teeth even harder, hating his body, hating his fate, hating himself.

  “I’m going to give you something for pain so you can rest,” the nurse said, and before he could get his turbulent emotions back under control, warmth spread from his IV up his arm, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

  There was an angel standing over his bed. The halo above her head made her blond hair glow golden, and her face lit up with a welcoming smile. She had the biggest bluest eyes he’d ever seen, and if the beautiful ethereal creature would allow it, he’d happily spend eternity staring at her. He wondered why she didn’t have wings and why she was swollen with child. But who was he to question the afterlife? He was ready to move on to his next existence. He only wished he’d had the opportunity to see his family one last time before he’d passed on.

  “Owen,” the angel said. “He’s awake!”

  Owen practically shoved the angel to the floor in his haste to squeeze Chad breathless. Chad was aware that his brother’s hugs would have caused him a lot of pain if they hadn’t kept him so drugged up.

  “I think you’re breaking another one of my ribs, little brother,” he said as he lifted a hand and patted Owen’s soft hair. Every inch of Chad’s body felt heavy. He shifted his gaze to the angel, who was still perfect, still smiling, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “I’m sorry,” Owen said in a strangled voice, his grip slackening. “Thank God you’re okay.”

  Okay? How in the hell did Owen define okay? Chad was a fucking disaster both inside and out, and he knew it. But he wasn’t dead. Was he glad for that? He wasn’t sure just yet.

  The dog tags Owen wore around his neck swung down and bumped against Chad’s chin. When Chad had left for boot camp eight years ago, he’d given Owen a set of dog tags to stop his blubbering. The tags didn’t have Owen’s full identifying information like Chad’s real ones did, just his name. But Owen never took them off. The shiny tag nestled among the more battered pair caught Chad’s attention. The newer addition to Owen’s tag collection had Chad’s name engraved on it. Their brother-by-circumstance, Kelly, had given it to Owen for Christmas last year, and Owen wore it with unwavering devotion. His brother-by-blood was a sentimental sap. Always had been.

  “I’m home for good now,” Chad said, giving the tags a flick with his oddly heavy hand. “You don’t have to wear these anymore.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Owen said, leaning in to hug him again. He was more careful with Chad’s ribs that time. “I didn’t pray for you that night. I didn’t pray, and you . . . you . . .”

  Owen choked on a sob, and Chad slid a comforting hand down his back, but he said through the knot in his throat, “You think this is your fault?” He slapped his silly brother on the back of the head. “Dumbass.”

  It was Chad’s fault. All of it. He was the one who’d triggered the IED. He had no one to blame but himself.

  After a moment, Owen released him and rubbed the tears from his eyes. He didn’t remove the dog tags. Chad doubted he ever would.

  “Who’s the angel?” Chad asked, nodding at the pretty woman, who flushed. She looked a lot like Kellen’s girl. They’d all gone fishing together once—him, Owen, Kellen, and Sara—but she’d tragically died from cancer. This angel was prettier and alive and smiling at him.

  “I’m Lindsey,” she said.

  Owen might have mentioned her, but then, Chad could have imagined it. He was still having a hard time distinguishing reality from the tangle of weird shit going on in his head.

  “Your girlfriend?” Chad asked, for some reason disappointed by the realization. Which was weird, because he was going to marry Josie, who he’d fallen for in high school. And also weird because he would never consider making a move on his brother’s woman no matter how beautiful she was.

  “No, you’re thinking of Caitlyn,” Lindsey muttered. “She’s Owen’s girlfriend.”

  That name rang a bell of familiarity. Owen must have told him about her before . . . before everything had changed.

  “I’m just the baby mama,” Lindsey said, running a hand over her large belly.

  “What?” Chad blinked at her. Was she implying that she and Owen were expecting? She had to be at least seven months along. How had his brother—who told him everything—not mentioned that he was going to be a father?

  “God, Lindsey, don’t just blurt shit out like that,” Owen said, and rose to sit on the edge of Chad’s bed. His face was wet with tears again, which he wiped at with the back of his hand. “She’s a potential baby mama,” he said, which made Lindsey’s smile fade and all her light evacuated the room. “Caitlyn couldn’t come.” He focused on the floor, a sure sign he was about to deliver bad news. “And neither could Josie.”

  Chad’s heart twisted. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to see Josie anyway. She’d hated that he’d enlisted without her approval and then taken on a second tour of duty against her wishes, and he could only guess what her reaction would be when she saw what had become of him because of that decision. She’d probably level him with a big I told you so. He hadn’t hinted to her yet that he was giving up the military to make a family and a home with her, just like she’d wanted. He supposed that would be obvious now, though he did know an amputee who still served in combat. If he really wanted to continue his service, he probably could, but he didn’t think he could force himself to go back. Not without Jawa at his side. Not knowing that even with all his training he hadn’t been able to save Emerson, would no longer be there to keep his platoon safe, couldn’t— He shoved those thoughts deep into the deepest reaches of his mind. If he dwelled on them, he might fall apart, and his body was already in pieces. He wasn’t sure he could take his mind following suit.

  “Mom and Dad are talking with the doctor right now,” Owen said. “They should be back soon.”

  Chad hoped he could keep his emotions in check when he saw them. If he fell apart, his Mom would get upset, and he couldn’t stomach her pain, so his thoughts turned to the calmest person he knew—a guy who could hold it together in the darkest of hours.

  “Is Kellen coming?” Chad could scarcely remember a time when Owen and Kellen hadn’t been joined at the elbow.

  “I didn’t invite him.”

  Odd. But before Chad could question Owen about the absence of his best friend, their parents entered the room.

  “Oh, baby,” Mom squeaked. “You’re awake.”

  She rushed to his side,
and Owen scrambled out of the way. Dad stood in the doorway doing a piss-poor job of reeling in his emotions. Chad wasn’t sure he could handle seeing his father cry on top of everything else that had his guts churning, so he closed his eye and held on to his quaking mother with the arm that didn’t hurt too much.

  After a long moment—he admitted that she was the first to let go—she leaned back and cupped the less injured side of his face.

  “I’ve missed you. When I thought . . . when I thought we had . . . lost you . . .” She shook her head, fresh tears flowing down her face.

  “Mom, you’re making a scene,” he said, realizing that he’d never once wondered if his family loved him. They were good people. He was lucky to have them. And it wasn’t fair that they now had a cripple for a son.

  “I’ll make a scene if I want to make a scene,” she said, the fierceness in her blue eyes part mama bear, part strict mother. “James,” she said, holding a hand out toward Dad, who had yet to move. “He looks good, doesn’t he? So alert.”

  Dad took a few steps closer and stopped, his eyes searching Chad’s broken body. He bit his trembling lip and nodded. He’d always been a man of few words. Chad could relate. Owen had always been a jabber-mouth like their mother.

  “I’m so glad you’re awake,” Mom said. “When we first arrived, we couldn’t get you to open your eyes. We tried, but . . .”

  But feared the worst. She didn’t have to say it. He knew how bad he looked. How numb he felt.

  “That’s all the drugs they keep pumping into me. And we wonder why our country has an opioid problem.”

  “You take those drugs if you need them,” Mom said, stroking his hair. “I don’t want you in any pain.”

  He preferred pain over the dulling of his senses. At least he figured he would. Before the medics had gotten him out from under that Humvee, he’d been praying for death to stop the pain. Mercifully, he’d passed out and didn’t regain consciousness until after they’d decided they couldn’t save his leg and had removed it on the field to free him. He tried to be grateful for his life being spared, but he was bitter and angry. The head shrink who’d stopped in to see him somewhere along his journey home told him those were normal emotions, but nothing felt normal about any facet of his life. Nothing.

  Unable to stand that all attention was currently centered on him, Chad looked up at Owen, who was worrying his lip between his teeth. “You have a concert tonight, don’t you?” he asked.

  Owen winced and glanced at Lindsey. “Uh, the tour has been canceled. The band . . . broke up.”

  “What the hell?” Surely Chad’s ringing ears had heard that incorrectly.

  “Jacob and Adam had a huge falling-out.”

  “Those fucking morons. As soon as I’m back on my feet . . .” Chad growled. “As soon as I’m back on my foot, I’m going to knock some sense into the both of them.”

  “Language, Chad,” Mom said.

  It took Chad a second to realize he’d used the f-word in front of his mother, something he’d never done before.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “If you want to cuss,” Dad said, “you fucking cuss, son. Why aren’t we all fucking cussing? This fucking sucks.”

  “We’ll get through it,” Mom said, squeezing Chad’s shoulder.

  “Of course, we’ll get through it,” Dad said. “We don’t have any other choice. And that’s the part that fucking sucks.”

  Chad snorted as laughing was a bitch on his injured ribs. He found his dad’s swearing hilarious. He’d heard his dad cuss on numerous occasions, but never in front of Mom.

  “It does fucking suck,” Owen said.

  “It fucking sucks big time,” Lindsey piped in.

  “Not you too,” Mom said, thrusting both hands into the air. “I’m obviously going to have to pull the swear jar out of the cupboard.”

  “You don’t think this sucks?” Chad asked.

  “Yes, it fucking sucks,” Mom said, “but you’ll be okay, Chad. You will figure this out, and we will support you through it all. We’re here for you.”

  Dad, Owen, and even Lindsey nodded in agreement. Chad smiled, recognizing that his little brother wasn’t the only rock star in the room. He was surrounded by them.

  Chapter Three

  Lindsey stood peering into a vending machine, wanting something sweet to go with the cheez-with-a-Z crackers she’d already purchased, when her cellphone rang. Not many people had her new number—not even her so-called best friend Vanessa or the parents who’d turned their backs on her. Owen had bought her a prepaid phone since her previous number had long since been disconnected for lack of payment. After she’d refused his numerous offers to buy her a top-of-the-line smartphone, he made the important point that she might have an emergency that could put the baby at risk, and she needed a way to contact him and her doctor. That was the only reason she’d relented. She’d insisted he get her the el-cheapo phone at a discount store, figuring she might be able to pay him back sooner if she settled for the least expensive model possible; she didn’t need a fancy data plan to call the hospital. She hauled the little phone out of her purse, but not recognizing the number, she let the call go to voice mail.

  She decided on a chocolate bar and inserted coins into the slot, only to press a wrong button and end up with fruit chews. Story of her life—nothing ever went as planned. With a heavy sigh, she sorted through her change and finding she was a dime short, left without anything to satisfy her chocolate craving.

  When she returned to Chad’s room, she was surprised to find the Mitchells had left Chad to himself. His gaze shifted from the television, and he smiled the best he could with half of his face taped and bandaged. He looked a lot like Owen—same clear blue eyes, same soft lips, same straight nose—but Chad’s jaw was stronger and more pronounced, which would probably classify Chad as handsome where Owen would be considered cute. Even all bandaged up and peppered with cuts, scrapes, and bruises, he was an attractive man. Strong. Virile. Sexy. So sexy.

  Lindsey gulped down the sudden flood of saliva in her mouth.

  God, she thought. The man has been through so much and the last thing on his mind is getting it on with some desperate floozy his brother probably knocked up. Get your hormones under control, woman!

  The last time she’d let her hormones control her life, she’d ended up pregnant. It obviously wasn’t a good life strategy for her.

  “Hello, angel,” Chad said. “My family is having a meeting about me.”

  Probably because he refused to talk about what had happened to him to anyone. But Lindsey understood why. She didn’t like busybodies snooping into her business either. Not even her once well-meaning family.

  “Families.” Chad rolled his unbandaged eye, though Lindsey knew his family meant the world to him, and he patted the bed beside him. “Did you bring me a snack?”

  “Do you like Starbursts?” She wasn’t a fan.

  “I don’t think my jaw can handle that much chewing.”

  “Of course.” She hid the brightly colored candy behind her back. “Sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about.”

  “How about Cheez-Its?” She was definitely a fan of those, and wished the bag wasn’t so damned small.

  “Sounds great.”

  She settled onto the bed beside him and handed him the yet-to-be-opened package. Her stomach rumbled in protest of her relinquishing her snack. Chad chuckled and squirmed over a bit to give her more room on the bed.

  “Are you sure you want to share?” he asked.

  “You can have them,” she said, happy to be able to offer him a small kindness.

  He gripped the bag in the hand he didn’t move much.

  “Oh,” she said, reaching for the bag. “Let me—”

  “If you help me open a fucking bag of crackers, I will shove you off the bed.”

  Her eyes widened. She wasn’t sure if he’d go through with the threat, but she dropped her hand.

  “I can do it.”
<
br />   It took him several tries to open the small red wrapper, while she clung to the sheet to keep herself from helping him. A moment later, he fished out a violently orange square cracker.

  “Here. One for you.”

  She popped it into her mouth.

  “One, two, three for me.” He tossed three little crackers into his mouth.

  She couldn’t stop herself from teasing him. “Selfish.”

  He grinned, his smile as disarming as his dreamy younger brother’s, and dropped two more crackers into her hand. “Even Steven.”

  To keep herself from staring at him, she turned her attention to the television on the wall across from the foot of the bed. “What are you watching?”

  “You.”

  Her face went hot—those crazy pregnancy hormones, she was sure. “Not very interesting.”

  “I disagree,” he said. “Also a lot easier on the eyes than Arnold.” He said the name in a perfect Schwarzenegger impersonation.

  Lindsey giggled.

  “Get to dah choppah!” Another great impression of the muscular action star.

  Lindsey turned to stare at him. “What are you doing?”

  “I eat Green Berets for breakfast.”

  She’d seen the movie Commando plenty of times, so she added the next line in her own very poor impersonation of the master of cheesy one-liners, “And right now, I’m very hungry.”

  Chad crunched into a cracker and turned his attention back to the television. After a minute, very seriously he said, “Give those people air.” He had Schwarzenegger’s accent down perfectly.

  Lindsey snorted and broke into a full belly laugh. “Stop. You’re going to make me pee.”

  “There is no bathroom!”

  Now he was quoting Kindergarten Cop. “I mean it, Chad. Stop.”

  “No problemo.”

  They watched the current action film on TV—which had Arnold married to Jamie Lee Curtis—in silence until a commercial came on.

  “Have you seen every Arnold Schwarzenegger movie ever made?” she asked.