Battlescars

by Ann Collins

  “I love you, Momma.”

  “I love you too, baby. Drive safe.”

  “I always do.”

  “Tell your aunt Jenny I said hello?”

  The question took his breath away, and Dyson closed his eyes. Her sister had been dead for years. His mother had moved from the here-and-now to the past so quickly, so fast it seemed impossible, but it had happened. The dementia had taken over again, but not before he had had some precious moments with her, ones that would have to sustain him for the many years ahead.

  She drifted off to sleep, and Dyson walked out of the room. He nodded to the nurses, who gave him wide smiles. They knew what he had just been given, and they knew he wouldn’t take it for granted. These were the moments that so many family members wanted, but didn’t always have the chance to experience.

  What a lucky man he was, in so many ways.

  When Dyson got into his car, he sat there thinking long and hard about the conversation with his mother. He had told her all the good things about Kayla, but nothing about the fact that the girl he was so crazy about had stopped answering his calls for some reason.

  He thought about his mother’s sadness at missing his father, which led to wonderful memories of his childhood. His had been an idyllic upbringing, loved dearly by two parents whose relationship was as solid as a rock. Love and respect guided their interactions, and a childhood like Kayla’s could never have happened in the home Dyson grew up in. His parents hardly drank, and the one and only time Dyson had actually seen one of his parents tipsy was the night they celebrated their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. It had been the first and last time he had seen his mother sip Champagne all evening, and she had been an absolute delight. He still remembered her clumsy dance with his father and her risque language, using words that made Dyson blush.

  And what she had said about her father after he went to sleep – woohoo! What a thing to hear from his own mother! Of course she was only putting into words the kind of love she and his father shared through their many years together. She was only telling him what he really already knew. He remembered being a little child and waking up in the middle of the night, and seeing the light underneath his parents’ bedroom door. Even then, he knew that if they were up that late, they didn’t want to be disturbed. So he would go get a glass of water himself, and sometimes he would hear his mother laughing as he went back to sleep.

  Thank goodness he had been too young to know what was really going on in there!

  Dyson smiled at the memories, but then he sobered when he thought about Kayla. He was willing to bet she didn’t have memories like that. She didn’t have the good things of both her parents to hold onto. Her mother had been a good parent, Dyson thought, but too weak to leave her husband for the chance at a better life for herself and her daughter. Kayla’s father really had nothing to recommend him as anything other than a mean-spirited drunk whose anger destroyed the lives of those around him. Kayla didn’t have memories of watching her parents dance on their anniversary. She had never seen someone get tipsy and think it was something fun and interesting. She had never had the luxury of both parents loving her so much that she became the reason for their very existence. Her mother had given her that, surely, but her father had never given her anything but abuse and heartache.

  It occurred to Dyson that Kayla didn’t just lack his wonderful memories, but she also was missing the example his parents had set of a loving, stable relationship. He knew what a good relationship was, because he had always been surrounded by one. But she probably didn’t even know where to begin. Was that why she was so hesitant about beginning a romance with him?

  Dyson had never realized that he craved the sort of supportive, vibrant relationship that his parents had shared. He wanted that wonderful feeling of stability, and he wanted to provide that foundation for his own kids one day. But in order to do that, he would have to find a woman who wanted it just as badly as he did. He wondered if Kayla was capable of – or even interested in – a committed relationship. Like he never had in his whole life, Dyson finally knew what he wanted.

  The big question he had to answer was what Kayla wanted

  ***

  By the next morning, Dyson decided that something had to be wrong. After talking to him about relationships and possibilities and hopes for the future, it just didn’t make sense for Kayla to have vanished.

  Making up his mind to find Kayla no matter what, he left early in the morning and headed for Kayla’s school. While she might have a reason to ignore him, he knew she wouldn’t miss her classes unless something was seriously wrong. He didn’t know her schedule with the exception of the class he’d seen her in, so he headed there near the time class should let out, and he waited near the classroom door, hoping to catch her as she came out.

  He didn’t see her, but he did see the girl she had been with the day they’d spoken in the hallway. He didn’t recall the girl’s name – he wasn’t even sure she had mentioned it – but he recognized the pretty face. The girl had been friendly when he’d first met her, and Dyson had no reason to believe that she wouldn’t be happy to answer his questions about Kayla. He was surprised when she looked straight at him and acted as if she hadn’t seen him or didn’t recognize him.

  “Excuse me,” Dyson said, but the girl kept walking. In fact, she picked up the pace. There was no doubt she had heard him.

  “Excuse me,” he said, louder this time, loud enough that other people turned around. The girl couldn’t keep walking away from him without drawing attention to herself. She slowly stopped and turned around, then looked up at him with defiant eyes.

  “I’m Dyson Maddox,” he said by way of greeting, but she cut him off.

  “I know who you are.”

  Dyson was puzzled but forged ahead anyway. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name, but I know you’re a friend of Kayla’s…I’m looking for her.”

  “My name is Jasmine.”

  That was all. The two looked at each other, Dyson expecting more information and, Jasmine determined to make him work for whatever it was he got.

  “Have you seen Kayla today?” he asked.

  Jasmine shook her head.

  His patience was already wearing thin. “Did you see her yesterday?”

  She shook her head again.

  Dyson sighed with strained patience. “Ok, did you talk to her yesterday?”

  Jasmine put one hand on her cocked hip and glared at him. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, why are you looking for her? Maybe she doesn’t want to be found. Maybe she’s been through enough already.”

  Dyson shook his head. “Listen, I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything to her. The last time we talked everything was just fine. But then she just vanished, and I have no idea why, and I’m worried, okay? I’m just really worried.”

  Dyson’s explanation put out the fire that had been smoldering in Jasmine’s eyes, and her defiant posture softened a bit.. She lowered her voice and took a step closer to Dyson.

  “She’s had a rough few days,” Jasmine said, deciding the Dyson wasn’t a threat to Kayla. “What do you know about her father?”

  Dyson grimaced. “Enough.”

  “Well, she’s dealing with that. With a lot of things. You’re going to have to be patient with her.”

  “Is she okay? Did something happen?”

  Jasmine slowly shook her head. “I guess that depends on what you consider okay. But no, she’s not hurt or anything like that.”

  “Did that bastard come here? Did he show up? Did he hurt her?”

  Jasmine took a step back, eyeing him warily. “No.”

  “Okay…” Dyson was starting to see the light. He realized his fists were clenched. He took deep breaths and ordered himself to calm down. Jasmine watched him with interest.

  “Where is she?”

  Jasmine cocked her head, crossed her arms across her chest, and said nothing. Dyson stared at her fo
r a long moment, and finally gave up. Jasmine clearly wasn’t giving up any more information. “Thanks for your time,” he said, and turned to walk away.

  “Dyson,” Jasmine called. He turned and looked at her. “Good luck.”

  Dyson was finished with the passive attempts to find Kayla and headed straight for her apartment, determined to figure out which door was hers and beat on it until she answered. Before he was halfway there, his phone rang. He snatched it out of his pocket and answered within seconds. “Yes?”

  “It’s me,” she said. Her voice was so soft that it seemed she was in a distant tunnel.

  “Kayla, are you okay? What happened?”

  “Meet me at the bar, okay?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay. Just meet me at the bar?”

  He had so many things he wanted to say, but the idea of asking her things while she was right in front of him, while he could touch her and look her in the eye was much more appealing. “Okay,” he said, and ran for his car as he hung up the phone.

  Kayla was already waiting when he got there. She gave him a sad smile and the bartender poured him a beer from the tap as he sat down on the stool. The silent barkeep retreated to the other end of the bar, giving them some privacy.

  Kayla toyed with her glass of water. “I found my father,” she said directly.

  Dyson’s heart was pounding and his mouth was dry, but he tried not to show how confused and worried he was. He had known that she was looking, but he was surprised that she’d found him so fast. And what did she find? What could have been bad enough to cause her disappearing act? He wanted to ask her every question in rapid-fire order. He realized, though, that she needed to tell her story in her own way, though, so he took a sip of his beer and waited for her to continue.

  “Dyson,” she started, but said nothing else. He watched her as she stirred the ice cubes with her straw. She looked as though she hadn’t slept. Though she was still gorgeous, her eyes were a little red and swollen, and Dyson would have bet his last dollar that she’d been crying.

  “You found something you didn’t expect?” he asked.

  “No…I found exactly what I thought I would.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “I can’t do this anymore,” she said, and then the words came out in a rush. “I’m just not ready, Dyson. It wasn’t fair to you for me to believe I could go into a relationship right now. It wasn’t fair to me, either. I didn’t realize…” she shook her head, and then she laughed, a bitter sound that didn’t seem to suit her. “I didn’t realize how fucked up I was, Dyson. I didn’t realize how much damage he had done to me. I’m not sure I will ever be able to sustain a relationship with myself, much less with someone else.”

  Dyson had gone from confusion to the verge of panic. He could see all the dreams he had thought about last night, all his hopes for what he wanted in the future, retreating a bit more with each breath. He hadn’t realized just how invested he was in Kayla until this very moment. What the hell was happening here?

  “Kayla,” he said, trying to sound calm and reasonable. “I understand that you have been through hell. I know that you’ve suffered through things most people could only imagine, and even then, they wouldn’t want to think about it.” He paused, searching for words. “But you’ve grown beyond that. You have become a good, decent person with goals and dreams and all the goodness your father lacked. You have the ability to move past what he’s done to you in every way…”

  Kayla smiled sadly. “Maybe I do. But not right now, Dyson. I need to…sort some things out. I need to figure things out on my own.”

  The panic was quickly turning to anger, but he tried hard not to let it show. He swallowed hard. “You said that we had a future together, Kayla. You said that we should always work things out – be honest and open with one another. Well, I’m happy to do that with you, but you have to meet me halfway.”

  She was nodding as if she expected to hear this. He could see that she’d planned her responses. Kayla was perfectly calm when she said, “I understand, and I’m sorry. But I can’t meet you halfway when I don’t even have enough energy to figure myself out yet.”

  She was being so reasonable that Dyson found no angle from which to fight. He clenched his fists under the bar and bit his lip, trying to keep his anger and sadness in check. He saw her out of the corner of his eye as he stared at his beer. She was eyeing him warily, and that made him even more pissed. What the fuck did she think he was going to do, anyway?

  “I’m not him,” he said emphatically. “I’m not even close to being him.”

  “I know that.”

  “So why are you treating me like I’m the one who beat you?”

  She didn’t seem to have an answer to that. But she was pulling away from him, not just physically, but emotionally as well. Dyson’s heart was pounding and his hands were shaking, and he wasn’t about to let her go without a fight. He hadn’t been to hell and back in Iraq to simply take something like this and walk away. She had to at least talk to him about this.

  Didn’t she?

  “You can’t do this,” he said, and suddenly she rolled her eyes at him.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped. “You’re acting like we’ve been married for ten years and I’ve just said I want a divorce. No, Dyson, we’ve only known each other for a few weeks and we’ve had some possibilities. Stop acting like this is the end of the world.”

  The harshness of her words cut through him like a dull blade, ripping as it went. This was entirely unlike the woman he had gotten to know so far. “What the hell are you trying to do?”

  She looked away and sighed. “I’m trying to be honest. I’m trying not to hurt you. But you’re making it hard, Dyson.”

  “I’m making it hard.” He took another long drink of his beer. It was the last thing he needed at a time like this, but the fact is that he no longer gave a shit about much of anything. She had talked him into believing she trusted him, and forgave him so easily for the things he had done. She had made him think that it was possible to have the kind of relationship he’d always hoped for. As he looked at her sitting there on the bar stool, he wondered if it had all been an act, just some way to get his attention and see how far she could take it.

  That couldn’t be right, though. That wasn’t anything like what she had shown him so far. He thought about the night before, how he had wondered if she had any example for a good relationship. He realized that she might not have that, but she sure as hell had a great script for a breakup. Maybe he would be more generous about the situation eventually, but right now, he was too hurt to think straight.

  It was time to go.

  Dyson backed off his stool. He took another long pull of his beer and pulled out his wallet, then slid a five across the bar. He nodded at the bartender, who nodded back, silent as usual.

  Dyson looked at Kayla, remembering the first time he’d seen her, thinking about how much he’d enjoyed getting to know her and how much he cared about her, even though they’d only known one another for a brief time. He shook his head as he looked at the gorgeous and damaged woman in front of him, and he realized she had played her cards carefully and left him with only one option. He walked toward the door and turned to her before he walked outside.

  “Call me when you come to your senses,” he said, his voice cool and calm.

  And though his heart was breaking, though he wanted nothing more than to stay there and try to talk her out of her decisions, he turned and walked out the door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kayla hadn’t cried so much in years. It was the kind of crying that never seemed to end, the tears that she woke up to in the morning and the flood of pain that finally wore her out enough to go to sleep at night. She had actually woken herself up in the middle of the night, crying after a terrible nightmare. It was the kind of crying that came from a heart that had been broken time and time and time again.

  This time it had b
een broken over her mother, her father, her lost childhood, the time in foster care, the things she was missing now that she was an adult – and Dyson. She ached over the way she’d completely cut him out of her life, partly because she just flat-out missed him, and partly because he’d done nothing to deserve the pain she’d heaped on him by simply walking away and shutting him out. Kayla felt like she was in the middle of the perfect storm of her past and the present, the collision sending an explosion rippling through her life. Collateral damage was everywhere, all around her, and it pained her to know that Dyson had been right in the middle of it.

  It was all her fault. This time it really was, and she knew it. If she hadn’t gone looking for her father, these painful memories wouldn’t have come up. If she had just left it alone, she wouldn’t be dealing with the awful flood of emotions that had overwhelmed her. She wouldn’t be set back so many years, and the hard work she had done to overcome the bad things wouldn’t have been completely wiped out.

  But if she hadn’t done it now, what would that have meant for her future? What if she and Dyson had gotten involved, only to have her father resurface later in her life? How much worse would it have been to have wrecked a real, established romance just because Kayla had trouble dealing with her past?

  Better to rip off the band-aid now, so to speak. Better to get it over and done.

  When Dyson had stormed out of the bar with that last parting shot of painful words, she had wanted nothing more than to chase him out of there and stop him on the street. She had almost done it. She had almost told him she made a mistake, but she steeled herself until she was sure he had disappeared. She had to let him go, because what she had said was true: She didn’t have the ability to figure herself out, much less a relationship.

  She had always known she hated her father, but now she knew there were varying degrees of blind rage. She had hated him before for taking away her childhood and her mother, but now she had another layer of fury to place on top of that – the fact that he had invaded her adulthood through the memories that the mere sound of his name could dredge up. No one deserved to have that kind of power over a person, but there it was.