Handle Me

by Kira Sinclair

  Luckily, he’d had Mr. Cantrell to teach him that fists were rarely the solution. Today, he wasn’t sure that lesson was strong enough to stick.

  Despite the punishing words Van had flung at him, his dick was still hard enough to pound nails.

  If any other woman had spoken to him that way he would have turned around and never looked back. But with Van he couldn’t make himself do it.

  Worse, instead of making him walk away, her words had simply made him want to prove her wrong even more.

  Because she was, though she didn’t want to admit it.

  There was a hell of a lot more between them than simple biology—there always had been. Long before things had gotten so screwed up, he’d wanted her. And not simply because she was beautiful.

  Van was intelligent, confident and isolated in the same way he’d always been. It was something he’d recognized. Something they shared. Something he’d never understood since she was surrounded by people who loved her.

  He was isolated because no one in his life, other than the Cantrells, had cared much about him. But Van...she was responsible for her isolation.

  He’d always wondered why.

  Oh, growing up, she’d had friends. Girls with whom she’d go to the mall, or have sleepovers, or whisper about boys. But she was still aloof, holding pieces of herself back.

  He knew because he’d watched.

  The thing was, he didn’t think any of the other people in her life recognized that she was doing it. There was a part of him that wondered if Van even knew.

  Back then he’d wanted to break through to her, but he’d known he wasn’t the right guy for the job. Now...he still knew that, but wasn’t sure it mattered anymore.

  Not considering the way she’d responded to him on her front porch.

  If she’d pushed him away that would have been the end of it. But she hadn’t. She’d clutched at him. Opened for him. Let him in, physically at least.

  She’d given him a taste and as with any good drug, he was already craving more.

  So even as his head screamed at him to listen to her, he wasn’t sure he had the strength.

  They’d crossed a line, four months ago, and again today.

  The thing was, with Van, he had to move carefully. Like a well-executed battle plan. If he wanted something from her, he’d need to be precise about how to get it.

  The problem was, he wasn’t entirely certain what he wanted from her.

  No, that wasn’t true.

  He wanted her naked beneath him again, making those tiny mewling sounds that haunted his dreams. He wanted her vulnerable and passionate. He wanted her real. He wanted to wipe away the pain and regret that clouded her gorgeous green eyes.

  Something told him most of those things weren’t going to happen.

  Ty had no idea where he was going until his car turned onto the decrepit street.

  This place was a far cry from the neighborhood Van lived in, with the perfect picket fences and families.

  Here paint peeled off siding. Shutters hung haphazardly, with no one caring enough to straighten them when a nail gave out. Rust covered ancient metal fencing. Weeds grew where grass should have been.

  Home sweet home.

  Ty pulled the car to a stop outside his mother’s house. He assumed she still lived there, although he hadn’t spoken to her in about twelve years. What was the point?

  He should go inside.

  But he wouldn’t.

  Again, what was the point?

  They had nothing left to say to each other.

  Despite everything she’d done to him—or allowed others to do to him—it’d been difficult to walk away from her. No matter how destructive the life she’d given him, she was still his mother and there would always be a part of him that wanted her to be different.

  Wanted his history to be different.

  But it never would be. He’d always be the little boy no one cared about. The guy who couldn’t keep up in school because he was too busy working two jobs in an effort to keep food in his belly and a roof over his head.

  The kid who struggled to believe he hadn’t deserved all those punches to the face or kicks to the ribs, even if his adult brain promised he didn’t.

  Goddammit.

  The last thing he needed right now was a turn down memory lane—for him, it was more like memory dark alley.

  Cranking the key in his ignition, Ty decided there was somewhere else he needed to be.

  This time, he knew exactly where he was headed and the reception he’d receive when he got there.

  Pulling up outside the Cantrells’ after visiting his own childhood home was like breaking through a bank of fog...the world seemed clear again.

  Warmth spilled from the house out across the darkened porch. Ty hesitated in the car for a second. Long enough to watch Mrs. Cantrell walk in front of the living room window, lean down and press a kiss onto Mr. Cantrell’s forehead on her way to the kitchen.

  Shit, that was what he wanted. The easy affection born from acceptance and years of shared experiences.

  Something he’d never have because deep down, he knew he didn’t really deserve it.

  Shaking off the melancholy that was pressing in, Ty unfolded from the car and knocked on the front door.

  Margaret answered, gifting him a huge smile and a warm hug, as always. Ty shifted uncomfortably in her embrace, even as he wrapped his arms around her and let her affection seep inside.

  “Nick, Ty is here.” She’d barely gotten the words out before she was pulling him inside. “We’re already finished dinner, but I can warm you up a plate if you’d like.”

  “Forget dinner, go for the peach pie she’s got cooling on the stove.” Nick Cantrell was a big man, tall and wide. His son had taken after him, earning a scholarship to play football for a small college...until his antics had cost Ryan the free ride.

  Nick’s hand smacked down onto his shoulder, squeezing tight for several seconds before letting go.

  “Thanks, Mrs. C, but I’m good.”

  “That’s a mistake.” Nick grinned. “She’s been torturing me with the promise of that pie for the last two hours. Trust me.”

  Ty shook his head. “All right. A small piece.”

  Margaret harrumphed, which Ty knew meant he would probably end up with at least a quarter of the pie on his plate. And he’d eat every bite.

  “You boys head into the other room. I’ll bring it in.”

  A baseball game played in the background as they settled into matching recliners. Margaret brought them each a slice of pie covered in whipped cream—not the kind from a can. She’d clearly whipped it up herself. She patted his cheek and then disappeared into the back of the house.

  Ty hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until the sweet scent of pastry surrounded him. Nick was right, the pie tasted like heaven. He wolfed down the entire piece in a few huge bites. Ty wasn’t paying much attention to the game, and it was obvious Nick wasn’t either when he reached over, punched a button on the remote and muted the sound.

  “How are you, son?”

  Ty turned to look at the man who’d been the only father he’d ever really known. Hearing Nick call him son, something he’d been doing for years, sent something warm curling through Ty’s chest. Until guilt twined with it uncomfortably.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit.” Nick’s lips twisted into a smile that took some of the sting out of the word.

  “All right. I really don’t want to be here.”

  “Here, here? Or in Watershed?”

  “Watershed. I’m always glad to see you and Margaret.” Ty’s chest tightened. “Can’t get peach pie like this in Afghanistan.”

  Nick just nodded. They were quiet for a few minutes before he
said, “You wanna tell me what brought you to the door at nine o’clock at night? Not that we don’t like having you here, Ty. But I know you well enough to realize something’s on your mind.”

  Nick was right of course, but Ty didn’t think he was the right person to talk with. At least, not about his mixed-up emotions where Van was concerned.

  “I’m not looking forward to the parade. It’s difficult enough, missing him.”

  Nick laughed, a tiny sound that held no humor. “You sound like Van.”

  Ty stiffened. The plate in his hand rattled. The reaction was involuntary and he was pissed at himself for having zero control whenever Van’s name was mentioned.

  “I don’t suppose you two have worked anything out? Stubborn, both of you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Nick just looked at him with an expression Ty had been the recipient of often as a boy...usually after convincing Ryan to do something that would get them both in trouble. A look that said Nick Cantrell wasn’t as stupid at Ty wanted him to be.

  “That tree house is in my backyard, Ty Colson. Do you think I’m unaware of what happened between you and my daughter the last time you were home? Margaret and I were hoping you’d both finally gotten your heads out of your asses, but apparently that hasn’t happened yet.”

  Wait. “What?”

  Nick shook his head, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips and creasing the outer edge of his eyes.

  “You and she have been dancing around each other for years, son. Was hoping you’d finally stopped posturing and made a move.”

  “I got your son killed.”

  The thunderous reaction that crossed Nick’s face now was less familiar, and had Ty rocking back into the plush arms of the chair.

  Growing up, other parents would’ve convinced their son that Ty was a bad influence. Mostly because he was. They would’ve forbidden their child to associate with him. Plenty had. But not the Cantrells. No matter what he did or how much trouble he stirred up, they always welcomed him into their home. Into their lives.

  But now, Nick’s expression seemed cold. It was finally coming. What he’d always known he deserved.

  Except, once again Nick surprised him.

  “Son, I see your head is further up your ass than I suspected. You did not get Ryan killed, and if I ever hear you say that again, you and I will have a problem. Ryan made his own choices.”

  The echo of Van’s accusation rang through his ears, powerful and convincing, just like the insults he’d listened to over and over again as a child. “He never would have been in Afghanistan if it wasn’t for me.”

  Nick twisted in his chair, leaned out and grasped Ty’s hands, pulling him close so that he couldn’t avoid the other man’s gaze. “You listen to me. Ryan had his own issues to deal with. But if you think that stunt y’all pulled senior year changed his path then you don’t know him. He might have gone to college and played ball for a few years, but eventually he would have ended up in the same place. He loved being a dog handler just as much as you do. He prided himself on serving his country and fighting for what we stand for. And his mother and I were proud of him. Do not take that away by implying his sacrifice wasn’t a choice he made. He was his own man.”

  Ty swallowed. Instead of making the guilt he carried disappear, Nick’s words only increased the weight of regret. And loss.

  God, he wanted Ryan back.

  “It isn’t the same without him,” he finally whispered.

  Nick’s hand wrapped around the back of Ty’s neck, squeezing tight. The pinch was welcome. It was a pain he could feel. Physical pain he knew how to deal with.

  “I know.”

  “There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to be out there anymore, not without him. But then I think I’m a coward for thinking about leaving just because he’s gone.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with questioning if your life should take another path now. Ryan would be the first to tell you to do what feels right. Being on the front lines isn’t the only way you can serve.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s what I’ve trained for. Where I can do the most good.”

  “This isn’t a decision you need to make right now. Take a few days. Enjoy your leave. And settle things between you and my daughter.”

  Ty laughed, the sound bursting out of him unexpectedly.

  “Oh, I think things are settled. Van wants nothing to do with me.”

  Nick sat back into his chair, a half smile tugging at his lips. “Son, I love my daughter more than anything on this planet. But that doesn’t mean I’m blind to her faults. Van doesn’t know what she wants, at least not where relationships are concerned. I guess now’s the time to figure out what you want...and then decide what to do about it.”

  6

  VAN WASN’T SURE which was worse, that memories of that night four months ago made her unable to sleep for shit the last two days, or that Ty had listened to her and disappeared.

  She hadn’t seen him for a day and a half. She had no idea where he was or what he was doing.

  And it bothered her that it mattered.

  Maybe if she’d been at work she could have distracted herself, but since all she had was Kaia, her mind had begun to turn on her, playing out multiple scenarios—ones she’d encountered in the ER—for why Ty had simply disappeared. Especially after he told her he’d be back.

  She’d almost convinced herself he was lying in a ditch somewhere until she spoke to her mother and found out he’d stopped by and mentioned something about running up to Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio to see a friend at the military working dog training school.

  The irritation she felt over Ty disappearing like that was ridiculous and she knew it. He’d done exactly what she’d told him to do—go away. But that did nothing to stop her from feeling...was it disappointment?

  Of course, kissing her on her front porch didn’t mean he owed her anything, especially a rundown of his whereabouts.

  But her lingering irritability from the encounter was only aggravated by the situation she currently found herself in.

  “Right this way, Ms. Cantrell.” Julie, the cheerful, bright-eyed young woman helping to coordinate the Fourth of July parade, rushed ahead of her. She had been assigned the task of making sure Van and Kaia arrived where they were needed on time.

  Julie’s smile was blinding as she indicated Van should climb into the vintage convertible Mustang, which she and Kaia would be riding in for the parade.

  “Jump in, girl,” Van said and watched as Kaia bounded into the car. She followed, placing her feet on the backseat and settling gingerly on the fluffy mat someone had thoughtfully laid out across the back of the open car.

  At two o’clock in the afternoon it was already blazing hot. But that was no surprise for Texas in July. The sun beat down on Van’s head. She’d put on an emerald-green tank that flowed around her body in the hopes that the loose, thin material would help against the heat. She’d paired it with silky black shorts and rhinestone sandals.

  Cool, calm and sophisticated. Appropriate for the occasion and the outdoor location. But the put-together look was far from how Van actually felt.

  Her skin seemed so damn tight, like she’d already gotten sunburned. Her head throbbed incessantly, and her smile felt brittle enough to break.

  She didn’t want to be there, even if it was nice for the town.

  Several people milled in front of the car. A banner with information about Ryan and Kaia was propped up a few feet away.

  Van stared at the words, her stomach turning over as she read the dates listed beneath her brother’s name and rank.

  God, she couldn’t do this.

  Beside her, Kaia released a tiny whimper, then set her head onto Van’s lap. Her hands automatically went to the dog’s head.
She’d been so wrapped up in her own misery she’d forgotten Kaia was beside her.

  The dog’s wet nose pressed against Van’s skin. Those warm brown eyes rolled upward, full of concern. Van felt the blast of it straight through her chest.

  “There you are,” her mother’s voice floated above the din of the crowd, releasing the pressure that had been building unchecked inside Van’s chest. “Would you look at this crowd. Ryan would’ve loved this.”

  Van looked at her parents standing beside the car. Her dad’s arm was wrapped tight around her mother’s shoulders, tucking her into the shelter of his body.

  How many times had she seen her parents standing just like that? More than she could count. The support and protection her dad offered wasn’t new in the wake of the devastating loss of their son.

  That’s what she wanted, and had never found. Easy understanding, comfort and support. It was something that had always been there between her parents.

  Her mom’s eyes, the same color as her own, crinkled up at the corners in a genuine smile. But that didn’t diminish the pain that still lurked there.

  This was a difficult moment for her parents as well. And somehow that helped. Not that she wanted their pain, but that if they had to experience it, at least they could share it.

  “Here we are,” Van said, rubbing her fingers through Kaia’s fur.

  “Now that you’ve got her settled, you should bring her by the house,” her dad said, nodding his head toward the dog.

  “I will.”

  “Mr. Colson, you’ll sit here beside Ms. Cantrell,” Julie said, her smile still beaming wide as she approached the car from the other side. Her eyes were glued on Ty, holding the convertible’s door open for him to climb in and sit beside Van.

  Ty took a seat, his large body taking up more than half of the small ledge they were supposed to share.

  Kaia, wedged between them, shifted, settling her head onto Ty’s massive thighs.

  Traitor.

  Ty ran his hands down Kaia’s back, digging his fingers in and kneading in a way the dog obviously loved as she stretched into the stroke.