Scarred Hero

by Hope Ford

  Scarred Hero

  Hope Ford

  Contents

  1. Cole

  2. Hope

  3. Cole

  4. Cole

  5. Hope

  6. Cole

  7. Cole

  8. Cole

  Epilogue

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  About the Author

  1

  Cole

  Why did I let them talk me into this? I look around the dingy bar and the only thing that’s nice about it is the fact that it’s dark. Not completely dark, but dark enough. My brothers, the men I served with in Iraq, are on leave and they’ve talked me into coming out with them. For the last year, the only places I’ve gone are the store and doctor appointments. I try to avoid anything else. The mangled flesh on my face is not pretty, and even at the grocery store I often still end up scaring some random kid.

  My buddies, already with a few drinks in them, have gone over to play pool. Not me. I’m staying at the table, nursing the beer that the pretty waitress brought me an hour ago. My eyes scan the crowd and, just like the last hundred times, I look at her. She’s a pretty woman. Long blond hair pulled into a ponytail. She has large breasts and thick thighs, just the way I like them. In the past, I would have already made a play on her. Not these days, though. Now I try to avoid any interaction at all.

  I served in the military for twelve years. I always knew it’s what I wanted to do, defend my country. I started fresh out of high school and even after everything that happened, it’s still the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. I just never thought it would end like this. Subconsciously, my hand goes to the mangled skin on the side of my face. I know exactly what I look like, even without looking in a mirror. I have every piece of marred skin memorized. But even though I’ve been through hell and back, I still miss the days of being in the service. Now I work from home doing security consulting. It’s nothing like the adventurous days of my past.

  “You sure I can’t get you another one?” the waitress asks me. “That has to be warm.”

  She’s smiling at me and there’s an innocence in her eyes. I can see the instant she notices my face. Usually, I turn away from people, but not her. I noticed her the second I walked into the door. She’s not my usual type, not that I really have a type anymore. But there’s definitely something about her. She’s breathtaking. Maybe it’s because I know I want her, and I just want to get it over with. She’ll see my face, look disgusted, and then walk away. The anticipation will be over. I won’t have to worry about what she’s going to think when she sees me. I stare back at her and wait for it – the look of repulsion, pity, and sometimes even fear. But she just keeps smiling, and it takes me by surprise.

  “I’m Hope. What’s your name?” she asks.

  “Co–“ I clear my throat. “Cole.”

  She sits down in the chair next to me, and I scoot backwards, not wanting to touch her. I’m barely hanging on right now, and I know if I feel any part of her softness against me, I won’t be able to contain myself.

  She looks taken aback for a minute but recovers quickly. “Cole. I like that. So why do you not look happy to be here?”

  I shrug my shoulders and look over at my friends laughing and having a good time and then back at her. “The bar scene’s not really my thing. My friends seemed to think I needed a night out, though.”

  Does she notice that my voice sounds gravely? I don’t talk a lot, and with the noise in the bar, I’m surprised she can hear me at all.

  She looks back at my friends, and when she does, my heart starts to race. It’s my own fault she’s looking at them, but I don’t want her eyes anywhere but on me. Just the thought makes me panic. Usually, I don’t want anyone to look at me. But her I do.

  She turns back to me and tilts her head to the side. “So do you?”

  My forehead creases in confusion. “Do I what?”

  She smirks at me, almost like she knows what I’m thinking about and what she does to me. “Need a night out, silly?”

  I laugh then. It’s deep and strange-sounding to me, because I can’t remember the last time I did it. But I don’t think anyone’s ever called me silly. Or at least they never would have tried. I’m six foot three and pure muscle. I barely smile, let alone laugh. But this little wisp of a thing called me silly.

  She’s laughing with me but stops suddenly when a man hollers across the bar. “Get your ass back to work, Hope.”

  She looks his way with disgust on her face and then back at me. The smile is gone from her face, and I clench the table, about to get up. I love her smile, and anyone that would take that away from her will have to answer to me.

  When I get up, she does too. She must know what I’m about to do, because she shakes her head at me. She’s close, her hot body pressed against me, and I swear I can almost feel her puckered nipples grazing my belly. She’s so much shorter than me, at least a foot, and she has to hold her head backwards to look up at me, but she also fits against me just right.

  “Trust me, he’s not worth it,” she says. When she finally smiles again, I start to relax. She reaches her hand out and pats me on the chest. “I’ll bring you another beer.”

  I watch her ass shimmy as she walks away, and I sit back down to hide the growing bulge in my jeans. I turn my chair to the side so I can watch her, because now I don’t want to let her out of my sight.

  2

  Hope

  I saw him the minute he walked in the door. All of them, he and his friends, are handsome, but for some reason Cole stood out to me. I lean over the bar, wiping down the counter and watching as they talked and drank their beers. He’s more reserved, and he seems quiet. When I worked up the nerve to go talk to him, it made my day that he smiled at me. I don’t know which of us was more surprised by it, but I do know that he’s absolutely breathtaking.

  I can tell by the way he holds himself he’s self-conscious of his scars. But I don’t know why. Even with them, he’s something else. I would have spent more time with him if Mack hadn’t hollered for me. My boss has been on me lately. Probably because I turned him down when he asked me out last week. I wait on a few customers, but I keep glancing toward Cole. He’s turned his chair and now every time I try to steal a glimpse of him, he’s looking at me and doesn’t seem to care that I know he’s watching me. I can imagine how red my face is and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t putting in an extra shake when I walk by him.

  The crowd picks up and I stay busy for a while. But I still don’t miss it. There’s a group of women that sit down at the table next to Cole. They’re staring at him, and I see the exact time they notice his face. They make a big deal of pointing it out to each other and one of them must have said something, because they all laugh. Cole notices; I can tell by the way his back straightens and his jaw tightens. He turns his chair back the way it was with his back to me and stares across the room.

  People are asking for drinks left and right, and I’m filling them as fast as I can. I keep trying to get Cole’s attention, but he never looks my way again. The skanks are still at it, staring at Cole, and as soon as I have a free second, I fill a frosty mug with beer and carry it over to him.

  I set the beer in front of him, but he doesn’t look up at me. He nods his head with a muttered thanks.

  The three women are all watching us, and I can’t take it anymore. I want him looking at me. I want his smile back.

  “Hey,” I say to him.

  Finally, he leans back in his chair and looks up at me. I don’t know what I am thinking. I’ve never done this before in my life, but I fall into his lap, looping my arms around his neck. He doesn’t have a choice; his hands go to my waist and hips, gripping on to me.

  I look right into his eyes.
“Those women are stupid. You know that, right?”

  Surprise lights up his eyes. “I know that. I don’t care what they think about me.”

  I turn my head to the side. “Okay, so why’d you turn your chair away from me?”

  I’ve always been known as the person that tells it like it is. Subtlety is not my strong point. His arms tighten on me. “Honestly?”

  I nod at him. “Absolutely.”

  “For a second there, when you were talking to me, I forgot about my face.” He tips his head to the table of women. “They reminded me.”

  I look over my shoulder at our obvious audience. The women act like they’re watching a soap opera, wondering what’s going to happen next. Because I can’t resist, I turn back to Cole and do the unthinkable. I lift my hand and caress the marred skin of his cheek. I can feel his body stiffen underneath me and not in a good way. I’m sure no one touches him there. But I can’t go another second without doing it. Reaching in, I whisper to him, “I think you have a beautiful face.” And then I touch my lips softly to his cheek. I feel his chest expand as he sucks in a breath, but I don’t move. I kiss him softly until I feel him move his hands up my sides, across my shoulders and then the nape of my neck. He pulls back from me, but I still don’t move. I’m hypnotized by the look on his face. There’s wonder, desire, and maybe even a little fear.

  When he just keeps looking at me, I wonder if I pushed too far. I wiggle in his lap and start to get up, but he breathily tells me, “Stay.”

  I freeze until he looks at my lips, and his words free me. “Can I kiss you, Hope?”

  I nod, licking my lips, waiting for his touch.

  When he leans in, I meet him halfway, and the moment our lips touch, I feel a pull in my lower belly. I lean in closer, breathing him in. His kiss is savage. It’s like he hasn’t had any air to breathe, and now I’m his lifeline. He takes everything I give, and when his tongue plunges into my mouth, a moan escapes me. I rub my legs together, wanting to ease the friction between my legs. His hands go to my hips to still me, and a guttural groan leaves his mouth as he pulls away from me. We’re both breathing raggedly, and I lean my forehead against his, unable to do anything else.

  Only then does the music and the noise fill my head. For a second, I forgot where I was.

  “I don’t pay you to whore around,” Mack, my boss, says from somewhere behind me.

  Cole’s hold on me tightens, and his face morphs in front of me. The desire that was in his eyes only moments ago turns to rage. He stands up with me still in his arms and moves me behind him. His buddies, who must have seen it all, are now standing next to me.

  Cole starts to walk toward Mack, and Mack is so stupid he just stands there and smirks. I reach out for Cole to stop him, but one of his friends puts his hand on my shoulder. I look back at him, and he’s shaking his head. “No, let him go. He needs to do this.”

  I want to argue with him, but there’s something in his face that tells me I shouldn’t. Finally, I nod helplessly and turn back to Cole as he approaches my boss.

  Cole towers over him, and I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I can tell he’s mad. I can’t see Mack, not until he’s backing away and slithers behind the bar. The usually mouthy man is quiet, subdued now.

  Cole turns back to me and his friends. They are all clapping him on the back and while one has his attention, I ask the man that stopped me, “What did I miss?”

  His big beefy hand touches my shoulder again. “You’re the first person we’ve seen him show any emotion for in over a year. He’s back.”

  His smile is contagious, and I smile back at him. Not just for Cole, but the fact that he has friends like this that obviously care about him.

  The man’s face falls instantly, and he drops his hand from my shoulder. I want to question him until I feel Cole’s chest at my back and he’s pulling me against him. I turn in his arms and smile up at him. “You want to get out of here?”

  Surprise fills his face, but he nods his head immediately. “I have to get my purse,” I tell him, patting my hand across his hard chest.

  I start to walk away from him, but he grabs on to my hand, lacing our fingers together. He waves at his friends, and they’re all smiles as they tell us goodbye. He walks me over to the bar, and I grab my purse from the back. I don’t even tell Mack I’m leaving. If I worked anywhere else, I would probably be out of a job for just leaving like this. But not here. Mack can’t seem to keep employees. Sure, he’ll give me a hard time when I show up at my next shift. But he won’t fire me.

  As we walk toward the exit, I wave at the women that were at the table next to Cole. Now, instead of laughter and disgust, I see longing on their faces.

  He stops when we get next to what I assume is his truck and I ask him, “What did you say to my boss?”

  He shrugs his shoulders, opening the door. Then he picks me up and sets me in the seat. He’s pulling the seatbelt around me, and when it snaps, he says, “I told him I’d bury him if he talked about you like that again.”

  I start to laugh but stop suddenly. He’s not joking. I see the sincerity on his face. He means it. He would actually bury him for the way he talked to me. I swallow, overcome with the span of emotions tonight has held.

  I cup his jaw, brushing my thumb across his cheek. I’d go home with this man in an instant. He’s the complete package, a real man. But I also don’t want him to think I’m easy. “So where do you want to go?”

  He seems to think about it before his eyes light up. “I know just the place.”

  3

  Cole

  She deserves to be taken to a fancy restaurant. She deserves to be showed off. But I can’t make myself do it. I’ve avoided most public places for a year now and can’t just show up at a restaurant tonight. It about killed me walking into the dingy bar; I couldn’t imagine a brightly lit restaurant. No thanks. I walk around to the driver’s side of my truck, get in, and pull out my phone. “Do you like Italian?”

  “Yum. Yes,” she says, smiling at me.

  “What would you like?” I question her.

  She looks at the phone and then back up at me. I don’t know how to explain to her that I can’t take her to a restaurant. I can’t do that to her because I know all the stares we would get. I may not be comfortable with it, so I know I don’t want to subject her to it.

  I’m about to tell her when she just smiles at me. “Uh, I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

  I type out a text, hit send, and then put my phone away. I drive us down the block and ask her about herself. She tells me about how she’s going to school to become a nurse. I find out that she’s an only child and she still lives at home with her mom and dad. She’s embarrassed about it, I can tell. “I’m twenty-five years old, so I know I should be on my own by now, but I’m trying to pay off school as I go and it’s easier to save money this way.”

  “It’s a smart plan actually,” I tell her, wanting to reassure her and not wanting her to be embarrassed about it, not around me.

  “What about you?”

  She asks me about my time in the service, and I tell her about it. I don’t even ask her how she knows I was in the military. It’s pretty obvious by looking at my friends and me we are military. I of course don’t tell her all of it. She doesn’t want to know all the horrendous things I’ve witnessed. But I tell her about my brothers, the ones that dragged me out to the bar tonight. “They’re a good group of guys. I’m lucky to have them in my life. When I didn’t get to go back, well, let’s just say they helped me through it.”

  This isn’t first date talk. I know it’s not. And I don’t know why I’m unloading all of this on her.

  “I was in for twelve years before… I was injured.”

  She’s silent for a long time, and I fight with not looking at her. I never talk about my injuries, and I don’t want to burden her with that now. Why can’t I be the happy-go-lucky guy of my past? Why have I let this take over my life?

  I loosen my t
ight grip on the steering wheel as I park in the back alley of Mama’s Pizzeria. I see Mama, as she tells everyone to call her, peak out at me and come bustling out with a bag of food in her hand and her husband Mario trailing behind her.

  I roll down my window to greet the couple that’s been married for twenty years. Mama is on a mission, it seems, almost running up to my window. Mario is waving his hands around. “I’m sorry, Cole. You ordered for two and Mama had to come and see who you had with you,” he exclaims, rolling his eyes behind Mama’s back but smiling lovingly at her too.

  My face heats, and I don’t dare look over at Hope. Right now, she’s probably wondering what she’s gotten herself into. I guess it’s a big deal that I’m not eating alone. “Mama, this is Hope. Hope, these are my friends, Mario and Mama,” I tell her.

  She leans across me to hang her hand out the window to shake both their hands, and she stays like that while Mama commits to an insanely long amount of small talk. I could tell them we have to go, but with Hope leaning across my chest, her pert body touching mine, her scent filling my nostrils—well, I could stay like this forever, it seems.

  I become aware when I see that Mama, Mario, and Hope are all staring at me as if they’re waiting for me to respond. Hope winks at me knowingly before turning back to the couple. “Well, Mama, we just met tonight, but I’m going to beg him to bring me around again sometime. This food smells so yummy!”

  We say our goodbyes, and Hope gets back in her seat, taking the food with her. She’s so soft and sweet, my complete opposite, but I look past it as she takes a deep breath and inhales the scent of the food. “My God, this smells so good, Cole. I’ve never eaten from here before. And how sweet are Mama and Mario? Man, you can tell he loves her. Did you see how he was looking at her? I wonder how long they’ve been married?”