by Harley Stone
Link had been my best friend since the Army. When I met him, we were both fresh off the Q-course and thought we were hot shit. There are several misconceptions about Army Special Forces. Most common is that we’re all like Rambo, flexing our bulging biceps as we single-handedly infiltrate and attack the enemy in savage bloodbaths while throwing out shitty one-liners. Nothing could be further from the truth. Although our A-Team did see its fair share of dangerous missions, the majority of our time was spent educating and training allies. We were all intelligent and well-trained with wiry, fit bodies that enabled us to run for days with little to no calories (AKA badass slender nerds). And most importantly, we don’t do that solo bullshit; we work as a team.
My time in the service thinned me down, toughened me up, expanded my mind, and taught me to trust someone other than myself. My team was the shit, and I knew every last one of them had my back. Link was more than my commander, though. His moral compass, integrity, and wisdom pushed me to be a good man while teaching me to forgive myself when I fell short. He was the brother I never had—the brother I chose—and I was glad to call him my president as well as my friend.
“You got a few minutes?” I asked, holding up the beers.
He pushed back from his computer and gestured at the couch on the other side of his desk. “Yeah, man. Come in. Have a seat and tell me what’s got you lookin’ so goddamn murderous.”
Link had a bottle opener attached to the side of his desk. I used it to pop the tops off the beers and passed him one before making myself comfortable. I took a long pull as I tried to organize my thoughts. I hadn’t told anyone about Julia. Not a goddamn soul. Partly because I didn’t know how to put what I’d experienced with her into words, and partly because I was embarrassed that she hadn’t called me back. Was the connection I’d felt real? Or was it all just attraction and sex? I was a wreck inside and didn’t want to open up at all, but Sage says that talking through shit often helps you categorize it and quantify its significance. I didn’t know about all that, but if I didn’t talk to someone soon, I’d explode. Link was doing the relationship thing with Emily, so if anyone would understand me, it was him.
“I know I’m one hell of a sexy beast, but are you gonna talk or just stare at me all day?” he asked.
Shaking my head, I replied, “Trying to figure you out, bro. What makes a girl like Emily fall for an ugly motherfucker like you?”
He grinned. “She sits on my face a lot.”
“Way too much information, man.”
“You asked.”
“Consider me duly punished.”
He nodded, watching me as he took a drink. “I take it this is about a woman.”
That proved to be the opening I needed. Starting from the way Julia had practically eye-fucked me in her bookstore before trying to trick me into taking her to the wedding, I told him everything that had transpired between us. He listened quietly, often nodding. It felt strangely good to let it all out. The whole experience, from our first meeting to the morning I kissed her goodbye, felt like a tornado that had been swirling everything together in my mind. Talking through it allowed me to compartmentalize my interactions with Julia and look at each one for what it was. Regardless of her lack of response to my calls and texts, we had connected. I was sure of it. But that meant that something else was going on… something she didn’t want to talk to me about.
Link listened until I finished, and then shook his head with a low chuckle. “You stayed the night?”
“Yeah. She’s got a comfortable bed.”
“And I bet all you did was snuggle.” He laughed, waiting for me to defend myself.
I didn’t. I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t share, and that included details. Some shit was sacred and what happened in Julia’s bedroom would stay between her and me.
“She must be one hell of a woman if she has you this fucked up.” Link drained the last of his beer and set it on his desk in what felt like a signal, ending out conversation. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
That was it? I’d been expecting him to tell me she sounded crazy and that I needed to walk away from the drama before I did something stupid that landed me back in jail. Nothing could have prepared me for him complimenting her and wanting to meet her before dismissing me. Had he been listening?
“She’s got all kinds of shit going on with her family and her ex. You heard that, right?” I asked. “She’s given me an out by ignoring me. Hell, she told me to leave her alone. Maybe I should just forget about her.”
He shrugged. “All right. Do that. Whatever.” His attention went back to his laptop.
The idea of never seeing Julia again tied my stomach in knots and made me want to bust shit up. Why hadn’t she called me back? Why the fuck was she messing with me like this? And why didn’t Link give a shit? “What the fuck, man?” I asked.
“It was your suggestion.”
“It was a shitty suggestion. I came to you because I was hoping for something else.”
“You said it yourself… this broad is making you crazy. If you can walk away, then yeah, you should. Why not?”
Because she needed me. She had no friends, a horrible family, no support, so she was battling her demons alone. If she failed—if she went back to her old life—all that beauty and humor inside of her would suffocate and die. I couldn’t let that happen.
“Because you can’t,” Link said, reading my expression like only he could. “I know you, brother. If you could have walked away, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation. You came here lookin’ for a way out, thinkin’ I’d tell you to respect her wishes and leave her alone. Which makes me wonder who the fuck you are, and what you’ve done with my brother.”
He was beginning to piss me off. “Come again?” I asked.
“You think Emily didn’t tell me to leave her alone? You think she wasn’t scared of this thing between us? You think it was easy? That I just walked in there and told her we were getting married?” He laughed. “You’re into this woman. You can fight your feelings all you want, but sooner or later you’ll find yourself standing on her doorstep with no clue how you got there and what you’re gonna say when she opens the door. Trust me. I couldn’t have left Emily alone if my life depended on it. I hear the brothers talking about me like I’m pussy whipped. Wasp thinks I’m crazy for getting married so soon. But I don’t give a single fuck, because that woman is my life. I would do anything for her. But I can’t tell you what Julia is to you. You gotta figure out that shit for yourself. What I don’t understand is why you haven’t driven over there and talked to her. You know where she works and lives. What are you waiting for?”
“If she went back to him, I don’t know how I’ll react.”
“Went back to him?” Link frowned. “The ex? Nothing you’ve said leads me to believe she’d do that. You gotta give her some credit.”
“I’m not trying to end up in jail again, Link.”
He shrugged. “If you do, maybe you’ll find us another prospect. I like Stocks. He’s a good man. Look for another like him, will ya?”
“I’m serious.”
“Then don’t do anything stupid. Control your fuckin’ temper, Havoc. If she’s back with him, she’s not the woman you think she is and you need to walk the fuck away. Is that what you need to hear from me?”
Probably, but it still hurt like a motherfucker. I sucked down the last of my beer and leaned forward with my elbows on my knees.
Softening his tone, Link added, “Look, she’s been through a lot of shit. You both have. Maybe she’s tryin’ to figure out where you fit into her life. It’s probably difficult for her to trust you… or anyone. It’s gonna take work and time and you gotta figure out if she’s worth all that.” He scooted back up to his laptop, looking at the screen as his fingers landed on the keyboard. “So, get the fuck out of my office and quit being such a damn pussy. And don’t call me if your crazy ass ends up in jail over this.”
It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but I needed to hear
it. I liked Julia and I needed to do something about it or shut the fuck up and move on.
“Fuck you, too,” I said with a chuckle, standing. Link was just busting my balls. We both knew that he’d be my one call regardless of what I got arrested for. Just like we both knew he’d bail me out. Again.
He flipped me off as I walked out of his office.
Julia
TEN MINUTES TO closing time, and the store had been empty for almost an hour when the bell above the door rang. I glanced up from my novel to greet the last-minute book junkie, but froze at the sight of Wesley wearing a suit and a smug smile as he made a beeline for me. My body tensed, and I reached for my phone.
“You can’t be here. I’m calling the cops.”
“Again, with the dramatics? You know that restraining order didn’t stick, and I’ve only been staying away to give you time, Julia.” He sighed and took another step toward me. “Oh, wait, you like to be called Jules now, don’t you?”
My fingers froze on the keypad of my cell and my heart leapt into my throat as the douche canoe twisted the nickname that had made me feel warm and treasured into a shiv and shanked me right in the back. Only Havoc had ever called me Jules, and never where anyone could hear him. Now Wesley used it to cut deep, leaving me bleeding and exposed before him as I tried to decipher how he found out about it.
“Jules.” He rolled the name around on his tongue, abusing and perverting it. “A bit immature for my tastes, but if you insist, I’ll call you that.”
“Please don’t.” I set my cell phone down as anger licked at my wounds, ready to cover the pain and protect me. I slipped on a mask and pretended to be unaffected by his presence or his knowledge. “In fact, don’t call me anything. Ever again. Get out of my store, Wesley.” I pointed to a sign over the cash register that declared I had the right to refuse service to anyone.
He stepped closer. “Why would you refuse me service, when he’s the one who betrayed you? It wasn’t even difficult,” he gloated. “I flashed him a little cash and he rolled right over. He has bills. I have deep pockets. You know the drill, Julia. You’re the one who helped me perfect that particular tactic. Find their weakness, their currency, isn’t that what you always said to do?” He stepped around the counter to stand beside me. “Would you like to know what Havoc’s currency is?”
Frozen, I watched him approach as I fought to wrestle my emotions under control. Yes, Wesley knew stuff he shouldn’t know, but I was still having trouble believing Havoc would sell me out. I hung onto that thread of faith in his character while my training plucked away at it, reminding me that everyone has a price. Why should Havoc be any different?
“I’m sure he didn’t want to do it, but his mom needs an expensive operation… some tragic story about the valves of her heart or something. He’s such a nice guy; he couldn’t just let her die. Not when he had the opportunity to save her.”
Oh God. That sounded like something Havoc would do. A deal he’d make with the devil. My knees felt weak and my chest tightened, making it impossible to breathe. Gripping my countertop, I refused to give Wesley the satisfaction of seeing me react. “What do you want from me?” I asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “I want you back home. You belong to me, Julia. Jules. That fact didn’t change because you needed a divorce and time, so you could deal with the consequences of your mistake. But as I told you back then, nothing is permanent. You have been mine since we were children, and I have been patient, but I’m ready for you to come back home and take your place at my side. I understand that it will be an adjustment for you, so I’m prepared to make a few allowances to make the transition easier. You can keep the bookstore. You won’t be able to spend as much time here, of course, but you can staff it. Control it. I’ll ignore the financial drain to make you happy.”
“How very kind of you,” I deadpanned as rage continued to stoke the fire inside me.
“What can I say? I’m a giver.” Again with the smug smile. “If you insist on continuing this perverted affair with Havoc, I’ll keep paying him to fuck you.” His jaw twitched. “As long as you’re discreet, of course. Wouldn’t want people to talk, would we? I would like to watch, though. I do love to watch you get fucked.”
The insinuation that he would have to pay someone—anyone—to fuck me was the last drop of gasoline my rage needed to become an inferno. “I would rather write a PhD dissertation about the cultural impact of twerking, complete with diagrams and a live demonstration, than live with you again.”
His jaw tensed. “You don’t have a choice my bride. Remember those pesky terms and conditions of your trust fund?”
My stomach sank, and bile tickled the back of my throat at the reminder of the many ropes my parents had created to control me over the years.
“I asked them not to press the issue,” Wesley said, softening his tone. “But it’s time now. I need you back with me. The business needs you back.”
It felt like a noose was tightening around my throat. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. All I could do was rage. “Get out!” I shouted, scanning the area for something I could cut or shoot him with. Nothing. Dammit! My cell phone was the closest thing at hand, so I grabbed it and launched it at Wesley.
He ducked, and it shattered against the wall behind him before crashing to the hardwood floor. I didn’t care. I grabbed pens and started pelting them at him. He swatted at them as he backed away.
“I see that you need a little more time to accept your fate.” He rounded the counter, putting it between us once again. “This is happening, Julia. We can do it the easy way, or the hard way, but my patience is coming to an end. If I don’t hear from you by this weekend, I’ll have to press the issue.”
“How dare you!” I shouted. “You can’t blackmail me into being with you!”
“Really?” he asked, shaking his head. “That’s your defense? Pathetic. But don’t worry, your mother will have you back to your old self in no time.”
The paperback I’d been reading was the next thing I lobbed at him. He didn’t bother ducking and as it bounced off his shoulder and hit the floor, he laughed. “I miss that fire. That passion. Don’t let Havoc fuck that out of you before you come home. I’ll see you this weekend,” he said confidently before strolling out the door.
I looked for something else to throw, but there was nothing but my laptop and he was already gone. Angry, frustrated, ready to kill the motherfucker for good, I regained hold of the countertop and raged, screaming, swearing, kicking, and generally throwing a fit.
In the middle of my tirade, Havoc appeared. He calmly reached behind him to close and lock the door before turning around the open sign and flicking the outside lights off. I stilled and watched him, seething as my heart and mind once again battled out how to deal with him. Anger beat the shit out of both organs and poured itself in my index finger as I raised it and pointed at him.
“You. You could have told me about your mom. I would have helped you. Why the hell would you go to him? Was it your manly pride that couldn’t allow you to accept help from me?” I laughed, sounding manic and crazed, as tears of anger and helplessness flooded my eyes. Swallowing around the lump forming in my throat, I said, “You should leave.”
“What are you talking about, Jules?”
“He fucking called me that!” I shouted. Tears leaked from my eyes. I swiped them away. “How could you? Why are you here? Did you come to gloat?” A sob ripped through me. “Because that cancerous cumstain beat you to it.”
Havoc looked from me to the door. “I’m here because you’re not returning my calls or texts. Other than the text telling me to leave you alone. Then I see that asswipe leaving and you’re in here losing your shit in full-on crazy redheaded white-chick mode and I don’t know what the fuck is going on.”
“I didn’t send you a text to leave me alone.”
“Are you back with him?” Havoc asked.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Would he give you a bonus?
”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Done screwing around, I shouted, “Did he pay you to fuck me?”
“What?” Havoc took a step toward me, hands out, stance non-threatening while anger ignited in his eyes. “Is that what you think? Why you told me to leave you alone?”
“I didn’t. And he knows things, Havoc! Shit he has no business knowing. How the fuck did he know about your pledge to make me scream your name if you didn’t tell him?”
“I don’t know. I can’t believe you think I’d tell that dipshit anything! What kind of man do you think I am?” Anger radiated off him, blending with mine. He grew darker, bigger, more dangerous. Lightning crackling in the middle of my bookstore. I knew I should seek cover, but I was so far beyond self-preservation that I stepped closer and lent the storm my thunder.
“How the hell do I know? I know nothing about you. You showed up conveniently right when I needed a date and for some reason agreed to come with me to my sister’s wedding. Doesn’t that sound a little suspect to you? I mean, why would you agree to go to a wedding with someone you don’t even know?”
“Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror?” His gaze landed on my lips before gobbling up the rest of my body. “You’re a knockout, Jules. You could ask any man in this city and he’d take you anywhere you wanted to go. And if you weren’t so busy trying to control every goddamn situation and emotion, and allowed yourself to be that vulnerable, gorgeous, real woman you showed me on the ferry, this thing between us could be amazing.”
I blinked, trying to process his compliments as one ragged breath after the next ripped from my chest. He’d called me a knockout. Vulnerable. Gorgeous. Real.
“You know what I think?” he asked, storming on. “You know damn well what’s going on, and you refuse to admit it because you’d rather blame me. It’s safer. Easier. That way you don’t have to feel anything. You’re being a goddamn coward, Jules. So, stop with the ice queen bullshit and admit you like me.”