by RC Boldt
“I hate that it came to this today. But, as much as I hate solving conflict with violence, I don’t regret doing it. Because it was for you. And I’d do anything for you.” His face was a mask of stern disappointment. “I just hate that you don’t want me to be by your side at times like this.”
Exhaling loudly, his gaze was intense. “Something has to give a little, here, Lee.” He ran his hand over his chin, over the neatly trimmed goatee, before dropping it. Again, he looked away for a beat before turning back to her. “If you don’t want me in your life, if you can’t honestly let me in, then …” Lawson trailed off, the desolate shadows edging into his eyes making her chest tighten.
She stood there, silent, the words stuck in her throat as the sound of the crashing waves nearby flowed over them.
Reaching out as if to cup her face in his hands, he stopped abruptly, hands dropping. Instead, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry that I can’t just stand aside, Lee. But it’s not who I am.” His eyes held hers for a moment before he took off down the stairs to his vehicle.
And she watched him go. Watched as Lawson Briggs, the man who had her heart, the first man she’d truly ever really loved, walked away.
Because that’s what people did in her life.
They walked away.
Except this time, she was the one who had made him walk away.
* * *
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He slammed his palm against the steering wheel as he drove, leaving Lee’s house.
He’d never believed in solving any problems with his fists, with violence. Ever. But when it came to Lee, when it came to that asshole, Brent, who had hurt her and disrespected her? He didn’t even think twice.
Which was not at all like him. Until now, that is.
And the fact that she hadn’t appreciated—nor understood—his actions chafed. Badly.
Shit. Shaking his head, he pulled into his driveway feeling amped up and knowing he needed to burn off some steam and get his head right.
And hell hath officially frozen over.
Why? Oh, because the first thought that came to mind was one thing.
Running.
Yeah. He, Lawson Briggs, was going to go running to clear his mind and get his head straight.
And maybe, just maybe, he’d get his shit together and figure things out with Lee.
* * *
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there at the top of the stairs, still staring in the direction of where Lawson’s SUV drove off.
The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach combined with the growing ache in her chest was becoming too overwhelming. Dazed, she finally turned around to enter her house, stepping inside, closing and locking the door behind her.
Because, God knew she didn’t need a replay of that surprise visit from Brent.
Padding along the hardwood floor, she neared the refrigerator, warring with herself over whether to indulge in a beer or stick to water. Water, she decided, because she wanted to maintain all of her wits. She clearly had a lot of thinking to do.
Just as she was about to fill her glass with the filtered water from the pitcher, she heard her cell phone ring. Quickly, she rushed to pick up her phone on the far end of the kitchen counter.
“Please be Laws,” she whispered to herself. But when she looked at the caller ID lighting up on her phone, she deflated.
Inhaling deeply, she answered, “Hello?”
“Hey, Ford. You okay?” Foster sounded concerned.
“Um, yeah,” she replied slowly. “Why?”
“Just wanted to check. We had a dude stop in here about thirty minutes ago asking for you. I would’ve called earlier to check on you but one of our sites had some issues I had to deal with.”
“He stopped by there?”
Foster paused. “Yeah. Fucker thought I’d like to hire him.” He gave a dismissive snort. “By your tone, I take it you’ve already had the pleasure of encountering him.” The way he said ‘pleasure’ was dripping in sarcasm.
Groaning, she ran a hand over her face. “Shit. I’m sorry, Fos. I swear, I had no idea about his plans.”
“Ford, please. I know that.” He cleared his throat before lowering his voice. “You’d tell me if you weren’t okay, though, right? Seriously. Don’t feel the need to sugar coat shit with me.”
She felt her lips curve upward slightly at her boss … her friend’s words. Because while Foster might be a hard ass, he cared. A lot. The man had a huge heart. He just kept it under wraps.
Letting out a sigh, she answered him. “I’m okay. Now.”
The fierceness came out in Foster’s tone. “What happened.” It didn’t escape her that he didn’t pose it as a question, but as more of a demand.
“Brent came by, thanks to the lovely internet search he did, tried to intimidate me, and then Laws showed up and …” She trailed off.
“Laws helped him find his way out, I hope.”
Huffing out a tight laugh, she said, “He helped him out, but not before there was a bit of a scuffle. And a broken nose.”
“Laws took care of business?”
“Yes,” she said on a sigh.
“And you didn’t appreciate him intervening.” This was spoken as a statement, as if Foster already knew how things had played out.
This time, her sigh was tinged with sadness. “Not really.”
There was a pause on the other end. “Look, Ford, I get it. In your position, you’ve had to have brass balls, take care of your own shit. But, that was before you actually had anyone who would do anything for you. You need to come to grips with the fact that leaning on someone else is actually okay.”
“Yeah,” she answered softly. It was just easier said than done.
Foster spoke quickly. “Hey, hold on for a minute, Ford.”
“Um, okay,” she answered slowly, eyebrows furrowed as she was placed on hold.
Moments later, Foster came back on the line. “Okay, I’ve got an update for you. You won’t be having any more troubles from Phillips. I had a few of my buddies over at the Sheriff’s office track him down by the license plate info I gave them after he left the office earlier. They had a nice little chat with him. Let’s just say, he won’t dare show his face around this area again. And stick around the house, okay? Pearce is on his way over.”
“No. Please, don’t bother him. I’m good, I promise,” she protested.
Because … shit. Her boss had already gone above and beyond as it was, helping to rid her of Brent.
“Too late. Already sent him a text and he’s on his way.”
Meddling friends. Yeah, this was a side effect of being taken in by these people.
However, if she were to be brutally honest, she actually felt grateful.
C
HAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Murphy’s military law #45: All warfare is based on deception.
Langley’s take: And so-called ‘warfare’ isn’t always found strictly on the battlefield.
~
“SORRY IF I CAUGHT YOU at a bad time.”
He had started off his run but was unable to resist stopping along the way to see if Zach was home.
His friend had opened the back door of the deck of the small home he and Laney rented, which overlooked the Atlantic, clad in only a pair of workout shorts. A towel was draped around his shoulders, and his hair was damp.
“No worries, man. Just showered after giving a surf lesson.” Zach’s gray eyes inspected him and, knowing him like he did, easily detected that something was off. Turning, he called back inside the house, “Hey, I’ll be on the deck with Laws for a minute, babe.”
They heard Laney’s voice within a second, her footsteps nearing them. “What’s wrong?” Her face came into view, looking at him. “You okay?”
He nodded, attempting to muster a passable smile.
And promptly failed.
“Oh, no.” Laney’s attractive features turned fierce, as if someone had flipped a switch. “Do I have to go
over there and beat her ass?”
This time, his smile was more real. Still small and brief, but more real. Because, God, he loved these people.
“No, Laney. You don’t.” He held her gaze, attempting to communicate the sincerity, truthfulness of his answer.
Finally, she relaxed. “Okay,” she answered slowly, her eyes darting between him and Zach before letting out a sigh, eyes resting on him. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“I will.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
With that she closed the door, leaving the two men out on the deck, each of them leaning against the railing.
“It’s pretty bad if you’re running voluntarily.” Zach’s gaze was fixed on him. “What happened?”
As he retold what had occurred over at Lee’s, his friend remained silent until he finished. Then, Zach finally asked, “So, what now? Are you done?”
Running an agitated hand over his head, he tugged at his hair and let out a groan. “Man, I feel like I’ve been fighting a battle I’ve been outnumbered in from the start.”
“But is she worth fighting the battle for?” Taking a seat across from where he was standing, Zach settled into the chair, leaning his forearms on his legs, intent gaze on him. “One of the most beautiful parts about loving a guarded woman is when she finally lets you in. And when she does let you in, it’s not because she needs you. She stopped needing anyone a long time ago. It’s because she wants to let you in, that she wants you to help her.”
His friend smirked. “I should know because I’m married to one. And we both recall just how tough of a road it was. But it was well worth it.” Raising his eyebrows meaningfully, he added, “Just like I know—and you know—that Lee’s worth it, too.”
Resting back in his chair, Zach remained silent, letting him mull over his words.
“Is there still fight left in you? Is there still a cause worth fighting for? Or are you bailing out?” Zach shrugged. “I mean, if she’s worth fighting for, you need to do something about it. And you need to remind her that she’s worth fighting for. Because, from what we know of Lee, no one has ever fought for her before. No one’s done much of anything for her. Until you.
“We’re talking a few decades of going through life without anyone to lean on. You have to see it from her standpoint, man. This is new for her. You have to make her realize that you’re the person she can depend on, the person she can always lean on.”
While he processed his friend’s words, he ran a hand over the back of his neck, feeling the tenseness of the muscles beneath it.
Cocking an eyebrow, his friend stared him, waiting. “Worth it?”
“Worth it.”
“She’s the first thing you think of at the start of every day and at the end of each night? And every spare moment in between?”
He nodded.
“Then, I think you know what you need to do.”
Letting out a sigh, he offered his friend a small smile. “Thanks, man.”
Rising from his seat, Zach grinned, reaching out a hand to exchange a fist bump. “Any time. It’s what I’m here for.”
He reached up to replace his earbuds, and was about to press the button to start up his music playlist—intent on heading back onto the beach’s packed sand—when Zach called his name. Turning around, and pulling one earbud free, he saw his friend grinning down at him.
“Yeah?”
“How does it feel?”
It took him a moment to realize what his friend was asking. Shaking his head with a smile, he offered up an honest answer, “Scary as hell, wonderful …” He trailed off for a moment. “Feels like the pieces finally fit.”
The look in his friend’s eyes spoke volumes, telling him without words that he understood and derived happiness knowing he had finally found his other half.
Giving him a wink, Zach made a shooing motion with his hand. “Go on. Get out of here, man.”
With a salute, he turned and was off, jogging down the steps and resuming his run.
On an internal sigh, he ruminated over the conversation he’d just had with his best friend as his feet hit the sand, pushing his body hard as he ran.
He couldn’t allow Lee to push him away, couldn’t give up without making her see that he was the person who would always be there for her. That he could be—would be—the person she could lean on.
He just had to figure out how.
C
HAPTER FORTY-NINE
Gerrold’s second law of infernal dynamics: An object at rest will be in the wrong place.
Lawson’s take: Yoda once said, ‘He who rests in the wrong place, move he must’. Okay, fine. That was actually me who said that.
~
“FORD, TELL ME THE TRUTH. You okay?” Pearce asked her, his deep brown eyes studying her intently. He’d led her outside on her deck to sit and talk with him. Or, rather, to listen to him, she thought wryly.
Though they hadn’t known each other while serving as PJs—had crossed paths ever so briefly once or twice—the instant connection was there. She’d known of his injury, recalled hearing about the attack, but hadn’t been involved in his rescue. Even so, whenever they heard of a fallen or injured ‘brother’, it always hit hard.
“I’m okay.”
Pearce was dressed in a faded, worn T-shirt that had seen better days, along with a pair of shorts—which he rarely wore—showcasing his prosthesis. She had the feeling he didn’t much care to show off his titanium leg and had only ever seen him wear shorts the few times they’d crossed paths running.
“I know about Phillips.”
Shit. Did everyone know about her and Brent? She eyed him dully. “Great.”
Shaking his head, he leaned forward, linking his fingers together casually as he studied her. “Look, Ford. Anyone with half a brain knows what really happened. Knows that the rumors he started were bullshit. But I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here to talk about Laws.”
Watching him warily, she spoke slowly. “What about him?”
“Word has it that he took care of business for you.”
“Yeah.” Her response was drawn out, dreading where he was going to lead the conversation.
“And,” he lowered his brows, “you realize the brevity of that, right? The fact that someone like him—someone so easygoing and laid back—would do that? For you?”
Throwing up her hands, she let out a frustrated sound. “But I didn’t need it! I can handle myself.”
Pearce pointed to himself. “I know that.” Gesturing to her, he said, “And you know that. Now, tell me, honestly. Do you think Laws doesn’t know that?”
Her lips parted to offer a response but snapped shut. Because, well …
“Exactly.” Tipping his head to the side, he shot her a meaningful look. “He knows you can handle yourself. But it’s the fact that he cares so much about you that he instinctively reacted. It was his initial response—to help you, to come to your aid. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Sitting back, he crossed his arms and studied her a moment before continuing. “Here’s the deal. Lawson is a guy and it’s pretty much ingrained in us to protect those we care for, those we love. If you can’t deal with that, then you need to go on about your business—and life—without him.” He paused, eyeing her critically. “Is that what you want?”
“No.” Her answer was immediate. And honest. Because she didn’t want that, not in the least. Which meant she had to get her ass in gear; she had to open up—fully—and allow herself to rely on Lawson.
“If you want Lawson in your life, then you need to figure out how to lean on people, Ford. More importantly, how to lean on your man.”
Covering her face with her hands on a groan, she grumbled, “I’m so screwed.” Slumping down into the other chair across from him, she looked up at the sky. “What am I going to do?”
Pearce looked over and waited until she met his gaze, offering her a consoling smile. “You
’ve got to show him. Show him you love him, want him in your life … that you’ll put effort into leaning on him at times.”
“Oh, is that all?” she muttered with a nervous laugh.
Because, yeah, it was official.
She was so royally screwed.
* * *
As he increased his pace, his running shoes hitting the packed sand beneath his feet, he pushed the worries away, concentrating on approaching Main Beach where he and Lee normally veered off to the left to run along the sidewalk on Atlantic Avenue, to eventually bring them into the downtown area of Fernandina Beach.
But, it turned out that he wouldn’t get that far. Because as he approached Main Beach, he saw a familiar figure in the distance.
What’s she doing there? Sitting on one of the benches aligning the beach’s boardwalk? And does she have one of those large cloth, grocery bags with her?
As he continued running, nearing her, the symbolism was not lost on him; he was running toward her.
He was running toward his Lee. Because she was it for him.
The fact of the matter remained, would she be able to take the next step, to meet him halfway in this relationship?
* * *
She was about to be violently ill.
Because as Lawson neared where she sat, eyes tracking his every move, waiting for him at Main Beach, she knew that this was it. This was the moment of truth.
She just hoped that her plan would work. Her options had been limited since she’d wanted to catch him as soon as possible. Luckily, Laney had been the one to inform her of Lawson’s whereabouts so she’d managed to scrounge up as many ‘supplies’ as possible from the store and haul ass over to the spot on the beach in time for him to approach.
Watching him as he slowed, nearing her, she wished he would remove the sunglasses masking his eyes from her view. His breathing was slightly labored as he came to a stop before her.
“Hey.”
She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. “Hey.”
He tipped his head in the direction of the cloth grocery bag. “You, uh, taking a detour on your way home from the store?” The corners of his mouth quirked ever so slightly.