Wrecked

by J. B. Salsbury

  “Don’t, listen, I have fair skin. I bruise really easily. It wasn’t that bad I—”

  I stand up so fast she stumbles backward. “Don’t make excuses for me.”

  She swallows hard and stares up at me with eyes wide as saucers. “You were dreaming.”

  “It doesn’t matter, my God, look at your . . .” I tilt my head when something on her arm catches my eye. “That me too?” I nod to her arm, then see another mark on her other biceps. “I beat the shit out of you.”

  She shakes her head and steps close, but I hold up a hand and move back. “No, you didn’t.”

  “And there?” I point to the discoloring on her thigh.

  “Aden, just tell me what happened, okay? I know you’d never hurt me.”

  “How can you say that? Look at you!”

  She doesn’t look, but she doesn’t say a word either. Looking is probably unnecessary as I’m sure she can feel the damage.

  “I’m so fucking sorry. You shouldn’t have been here for that.”

  “Been here for what? A nightmare? How could you have known that was coming?” She comes at me again but this time I don’t have the self-restraint to stop her. I want to fall into her arms and never come up for air, absorbing the sweet medication of her touch.

  I look around to see a few people on the docks watching us a little too closely. “Let’s go inside.”

  She seems surprised by my request, obviously unaware of the suffocating threat creeping in on us. No one ever sees it. I know it’s a figment of my imagination but I can’t help feeling the need to be on guard all the fucking time.

  I head in and she follows. I motion for her to sit on the couch. She lowers herself without taking her eyes off mine as they beg for me to explain. I lean against the small kitchen island and cross my arms over my chest as if I can hold myself together when I’m this close to losing what little control I have left.

  Her body language is far from relaxed, and it might have something to do with the fact that I can’t stop glaring at the dark marks I put on her body.

  “What is it?”

  I lick my lips and clear my throat, struggling to get those first few words out of my mouth. “My job in the Special Forces was to train Iraqi and Kurdish soldiers to protect their country against the ISIL.”

  “Go on.”

  I hadn’t realized I’d stopped talking as my head throws me back, slamming me into the past.

  “I can’t give you everything, I can’t . . .” Talk about it. “I don’t like going back there.”

  “I understand,” she whispers.

  “I trusted the wrong person and because of that I sent my men to the ground.”

  She grimaces in what I’m sure is disgust, the reason I know is because I’m just as disgusted with myself. “Oh, Aden . . .”

  “They had wives, kids, one of them was engaged to be married the month after our tour was up.” I shake my head as the weight of it all comes back to hang heavy on my neck. I can’t do this, not now, not with her. She’ll hate me if she knows. I hate my-fucking-self!

  “You dream about them.”

  “No.” It takes all the strength I have to look up at her. “I dream about killing the rat who betrayed me.”

  Her jaw falls loose on its hinges.

  “I dream about crushing his skull with my bare hands.” My fists clench as the adrenaline reignites my hate. “That corrupt fucker got away and I buried my men all because he lied and I didn’t see through his bullshit.”

  “Aden—”

  “It was my job to protect my men!” I pound my fist into my chest. “Mine! And I failed them. Widows and fatherless children are out there because of me!”

  Her face drains of color.

  I rub my eyes with both hands and try to cool my temper. “He lied and I’d give up everything I have to make him pay.”

  Her throat bobs with a heavy swallow.

  “Fool me once. I will never be deceived again.” I blink in an attempt to clear the fog of fury from my vision. I slow my breathing, calm my ass down because I’m clearly scaring the shit out of Celia. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to scare you.”

  She shakes her head and studies the floor, unable to look at me. “It’s . . . no, it’s fine, I just . . . that had to be horrible for you.”

  Once my pulse slows to a reasonable rate I cross to her and drop to a squat at her feet. Her eyes come to mine, but they’re cautious. Tentative.

  “I don’t expect you to be okay with this. I was hoping to keep my shit together for however long we’d be hanging out, but you saw for yourself, I have no control over it.”

  “They call you Sergeant Psycho.” She immediately covers her mouth as if she didn’t mean to say that out loud.

  My lips pull up at the sides on their own accord. “They’re probably right.”

  “The guys who broke into the cottage, you beat them up.”

  Not a question, clearly she’s been talking to others about me. “I did.” I shrug. “I can’t say I regret it.”

  She rubs her neck. “And the cab driver?”

  Fuckin’ hell. My jaw locks down and I push back up to standing and cross to the opposite side of the small cabin.

  “Aden—”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “The truth.”

  I whirl around. “He called me sadiq.”

  Her expression twists in confusion.

  “It means friend in Arabic.”

  “So you attacked him?”

  “Yes.” She wanted the fucking truth, well, there it is.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “No, I suppose, you wouldn’t.” I’d only been back on US soil for a month and that fucker was speaking in Arabic not thinking I could understand. I was already on edge, the crowded bar and the drunks, but when that word came from his lips directed at me it was a portal to the past. I felt everything—the fear, defeat, the fucking shame. All of it hit at once and I was far from prepared.

  God, I am such a fuckup.

  She licks her quivering lips.

  “This was a bad idea.” I’ve chased off everyone I care about, my own parents look at me like I’m a stranger; why did I think I could maintain any kind of relationship with a woman, especially one as sweet and unaffected as Celia. “You should probably go.”

  “Don’t push me away.” Her bare feet pad against the hollow-sounding floor and I spin around, hating the feeling of someone approaching my back. She seems shocked and stills for a second, taking me in, possibly gauging if I’m safe enough to get close to. Shit, I did a number on this girl without even trying. Feeling like a total dick and wishing I could express how fucking sorry I am, I do the only thing I can think of and open my arms.

  She doesn’t hesitate and rushes into them, gripping me tight around my waist.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know you are, and I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through. But Aden . . . I don’t want to leave.”

  I drop a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. “No?”

  She shakes her head, her cheek pressing deeper into my chest.

  “God, look at your skin, baby.” I squeeze her tighter to me but am mindful of her bruises. “How can you stand to have me touch you again?”

  “You were sleeping, you didn’t do it on purpose. In the time we’ve been hanging out I’ve never once been afraid you’d hurt me. Maybe . . .” She peers up at me. “If it’ll make you feel better, maybe we don’t sleep over anymore.”

  I’m not jazzed on the thought of not having her in my arms at night, but she’s right. She’s safer in the cottage.

  “If that’s what it takes.” Her body presses to mine, her hands splayed against my lower back as she clings to me, it all feels too good, too safe, and impossible to let go of. And for the first time I wonder how I’m going to say goodbye when she moves back to Phoenix, how I’ll ever be able to get through a day without the promise of seeing her at the end of it
. “You know, at this rate, I may never let you go.”

  Her breath hitches and I cringe, thinking if my night terrors don’t scare her away my brutal honesty might.

  “Let’s go do something fun today.”

  I push her strawberry-blond hair off her forehead. “I gotta fish today, freckles.”

  She melts back into me. “I could go with you. I’ve been told I’m a pretty good deckhand, and a master baiter.”

  Squeezing her tighter I chuckle and bury my nose in her hair. I close my eyes, thankful as hell that after all she knows she’s still willing to spend time with me. “Are you sure?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  I’m not one hundred percent sure about what the hell we’re doing or where this is going, but I’m greedy enough to not push away whatever part of her she’s offering.

  “Did you bring a swimsuit?”

  SAWYER

  “Are you insane? I’m not getting in that thing!”

  Aden’s grinning in that stupidly sexy way, his dark Ray-Bans covering those chocolate-brown eyes that I know are dancing with humor. “Oh come on, ya big baby.” He knocks on the faded yellow plastic. “It’s solid. Nothing can hurt you in here.”

  My eyes dart from him to the cluster of small islands behind him as we bob and sway with the swell of the tide. Aden called them the Coronado Islands and explained we’re about eight miles off the coast of Baja. They’re majestic the way they sit out in the ocean, waves crashing against their rugged shorelines, and sea lions sun bathing on the rocks, but that was before I was asked to get off the safety of Aden’s boat. Now they look like the enormous teeth of a sea monster inviting me in to be eaten alive!

  “Jenkins, back me up here.” I sidestep and hide behind the old man who is leaning back with a cigar between his teeth. He invited himself to come along, and though I could tell Aden was disappointed that we wouldn’t be on the boat alone, after what happened last night I think he felt I’d feel safer with a chaperone. “A shark could bite right through that . . . that . . . what is that?”

  “It’s a kayak, princess.” Jenkins laughs but it sounds more like a cough. “Stop being a pussy and get your ass over there.”

  “A pussy?” I don’t think I’ve ever been called that in my entire life. Aden’s shoulders are jumping in silent laughter.

  “You heard me.” He jerks his chin up. “I want to take a nap and I can’t do it with you here squawking.”

  “You asked for something fun.” Aden holds up an oar. “Now come on, freckles, get in the fucking kayak.”

  My gut tumbles and clenches at the sound of him calling me freckles, but nerves have my knees practically knocking together. I did say I wanted to do something fun, something that would help us forget, but that was to redirect the conversation, an attempt to erase the battle that waged in his eyes as he spoke of his military past. And yeah, it was also a way to move away from the sickness I felt at his telling me of his betrayal. How he’d been deceived.

  It was a way to change the subject, to ease my own guilt about lying to him. I almost confessed. My mouth was forming the words when I realized . . .

  He can never find out.

  Ever.

  If he did he’d feel duped, manipulated.

  I’d be no different from the snake who deceived him.

  It was in that moment I decided I’d keep my secret. When my time here is up I’ll move back to Phoenix, and never talk to Aden again.

  It’s such a bummer because there’s a little part of me that wondered what would happen if we stayed in touch, how long things would last between us if I were Sawyer, but after hearing about how he was lied to it was clear that there could never be anything more between us.

  All we have is now. And however long it takes to pack up Celia’s place, which at this point shouldn’t take much longer. The promise I made to my sister is now also a promise I’ve made to myself.

  For now . . . I am Celia.

  Staring out at the vast open ocean I can’t believe I’m actually considering putting nothing between me and Jaws but an old faded piece of plastic.

  “Woman!” Jenkins tosses one wrinkled hand toward Aden. “Get out there!”

  “I’m not ready! I—Aden, what are you doing?” I stare in horror as he slowly prowls toward me.

  “You wanted an adventure.” His long strides are calculated because every adjust I make he counters with one of his own until I’m backed into a corner. “I’m giving it to you.” His eyes track to my chest that’s rising and falling way too fast. Even though he insisted I wear a T-shirt over one of Celia’s bikinis it’s the burn-out kind, tight with a v-neck and covers little more than the bruises on my upper arms and back.

  “I’m scared.”

  He closes in. “Don’t be.”

  “I don’t know how to not be scared.”

  His big hand covers my hip. “I’d die before I let anything get to you.”

  I blink up at him, shocked by his words. “Don’t say that.”

  “I’m serious.” He leans in and his breath is hot against my neck. “Dying to protect the life of a beautiful woman is an honorable way to go.”

  I press my forehead to his shoulder, hiding the pink I know is rushing to my cheeks and whisper, “You think I’m beautiful.”

  His other hand clutches my hip. “You know I do.”

  Now I’m practically panting and even though I can’t see anything around Aden’s big body I know Jenkins isn’t more than a few feet away. “Well . . .” I swallow hard, trying to regain my wits. “What are the chances of you having to sacrifice your life for mine?”

  He smiles against my skin. “You want a calculated risk assessment?”

  “Please . . .” My breathing is so loud I should be embarrassed. “Yes, please.”

  He shrugs one big, tan shoulder. “Less than one percent.”

  “Less than?”

  He steps closer, brushing his hard chest against mine. “Despite what happened last night—”

  “Aden—”

  “You’re safe with me.” He presses his lips against my temple. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracks, but he quickly clears his throat.

  “I know you are.”

  He nods and backs up, giving me back a little oxygen. “So . . . you comin’?” That friggin’ crooked smile flashes, turning me into a brainwashed minion.

  “Yeah.”

  He grabs my hand and leads me to the back of the boat, where he heaves the kayak over and into the water. He easily slips into the back seat of the two-seated vessel, then holds his hand out to me. “Nice and easy, I’ll do my best to keep it level.”

  My lips knit together as I concentrate on stabilizing myself on the bobbing banana-looking thing, and with him lending me his strength I manage to drop my ass into the front seat.

  “Atta girl, freckles.”

  “I did it!”

  He chuckles. “See, that wasn’t too bad, huh?”

  It really wasn’t, but now that I’m floating over God knows how many things that could kill me, my victory is short-lived.

  “Jenks, don’t go anywhere!” Aden yells out as he thrusts one side of the oar into the water, propelling us toward the islands.

  The man grumbles something back that I can’t make out over the splash of the water around me and the roar of my pulse in my ears. “Where’s my oar?” I search the small space, but there’s nothing.

  “Relax. Leave the paddling to me.” His powerful strokes push us through the dark water and I try hard to do what he said. I practice deep breathing, blowing out through my mouth, focusing on the land ahead rather than contemplating the wildlife that dwells below.

  The wind blows my hair around my face and the sun warms my skin. This time Aden insisted I slather myself in SPF 50, so while the heat touches my skin it doesn’t burn. I imagine what he must look like behind me, the muscles in his back and shoulders contracting with every push through the water, a fine sheen of sweat making his bare torso sparkle in the light. Unable to
resist a peek, I turn around and the tiny boat rocks to the side, sending water spilling in around my butt.

  “Gah! That’s cold!”

  He chuckles. “Eyes forward, ya perv.”

  I gasp and my face flames. “Perv? I was just trying to see how far away from the boat we’d come.”

  “Sure you were.”

  I open my mouth to defend myself but figure he’s got me figured out already so I’ll quit while I’m ahead.

  It takes longer than I thought it would, judging by the distance from Aden’s boat to the islands, but he finally slows his rowing in a small inlet where the cliffs shelter the water from the wind to make it still and glassy.

  “You okay?” I hear him fumbling around with something behind me, but I don’t dare look now that I know it’ll throw us off balance and keep my eyes on the rocks.

  “Aden, this is amazing.” I tilt my head way back to see to the tops of the rocks towering above us.

  “It’s called Lobster Shack Cove. We’ll anchor here.”

  There’s a splash to my right and a rope that dangles off the side of the kayak.

  “Anchor?” There’s a good twenty yards between us and a small strip of beach. “Are we getting off?”

  He hands me something over my shoulder. “Put this on.”

  “A mask?” I turn around, this time more carefully to avoid rocking the tiny boat.

  He’s slipping a mask over his head, wearing it like a headband with the snorkel dangling. “Yeah. Here.” He snags the mask from me and slips it over my hair, popping it over my eyes and making a few adjustments to the strap. “Put this in your mouth.” He guides the snorkel to my lips with a devilish grin on his face.

  “Who’s the perv now?” I mumble as he puts the damn thing in my mouth, sealing my fate.

  I’m going to have to get in the water.

  Looking over the edge of the kayak I can see the ocean floor. There’s a few fish, but nothing big and toothy waiting for me at the bottom.

  “Remember what I said about keeping you safe?” He pulls the mask over his eyes, then grabs my hand.

  Unable to speak with the snorkel in my mouth, I nod and squeeze his hand.

  “If you let go of the fear you might actually enjoy yourself.” He brings my knuckles to his lips and then lets go and dives off the kayak.