by PJ Sharon
I sat up and slid over next to him. “Well, you didn’t. If anything, I nailed you. Let me see your face.” When he looked up at me, I saw his eyelid already swelling. “You’d better put some ice on that.”
“I don’t need any ice,” he growled. Then he grabbed my hand. “You’re bleeding,” he said, a note of panic rising in his voice. “Are you all right?”
Raised pink scratches marked my arms and legs; a particularly nasty one on my left forearm was oozing little droplets of blood. A few splinters and scrapes marred my palm, but overall I was no worse off than if I’d pruned the hedges at home. “The roses got me.” I flashed a grin at him, embarrassed.
“We’d better get you cleaned up.” He stood, slightly unsteady as if he’d forgotten about his prosthetic leg, and returned from the bathroom a minute later with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, tweezers, and a bag of cotton balls.
“Hey, you got your new leg.” I noticed his limp was almost gone and his gait looked steadier. The titanium post now had a spring-loaded articulating ankle joint that flexed when he walked. If he had shoes on, I would never know the difference. Hoping we could change the subject away from him not wanting to see me, I focused on the state-of-the-art prosthesis, as much of it as I could see with him wearing jeans. “It looks amazing—totally functional.”
“Yeah. It’s working out pretty well—although it makes me feel like a cyborg.” He sat beside me again, his weight dipping the mattress and making me slide closer to his shirtless body. His temper had cooled and his lip twitched into a small smile which, as usual, made my heart sing. He pulled the splinters out of my palm, eyeing me as I sucked in a sharp breath. “Sorry,” he said, making quick work of a few more splinters and cleaning the scrapes on my palm.
He silently tended my wounds, his complete focus drawn to the task at hand. I hated to admit it, but it felt good to have someone looking after me for a change. It only stood to remind me that I had spent most of my life taking care of everyone else. He dabbed at the cuts on my arm, his touch gentle and sure. A feeling of deep contentment grew inside me. I liked this new feeling—probably way more than I should. I avoided eye contact with him, certain he sensed my hesitation.
“Your mom told me about the discharge papers. I’m really sorry, Alex.” I didn’t know what else to say. The silence grew awkward between us as I focused on the cool sting of the antiseptic and the gentleness of his touch. My belly fluttered and I tried to ignore the warmth that radiated between us. He smelled like soap and some manly scented deodorant that made my nose twitch and my mouth water. I stared at his green eyes, a little more blue today. I thought about what it might feel like to nuzzle my lips into the soft spot at the base of his throat, so inviting.
“It doesn’t matter,” he sighed, “I couldn’t perform my duties anyway. It’s not like the Marines could use a guy with only one leg.” He screwed the cap onto the bottle and set aside the cotton balls.
“That’s not true and you know it. With or without a leg, the Marines would be lucky to have you. You’re brilliant.” I looked around the room at all of his science awards. “Look at this place. You are amazing. If they can’t appreciate what you have to offer, then that’s their loss and they are idiots.”
He looked at the shelf and shook his head, his gaze dropping to the floor as if he was searching for something he had lost. “Please go home and leave me alone.”
“I’m not leaving you like this. You can’t give up on yourself. There is so much you have to offer the world. You just need a little time to figure it out.”
He stood and stalked across the room, opening the bedroom door and standing aside. “I need you to leave, Jordie.” He hesitated. “I want to be alone.” I saw him swallow and my heart leapt to my throat. Confusion and fear buzzed in my head like angry bees. He straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. “Don’t come back. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
The pounding in my chest moved to my ears. Uncertain if I’d heard him right, I didn’t want to believe him. “You can’t mean it. What about training? What about…”
“You’ve helped me more than you know, but I don’t need you to…I can do the rest myself. I need to do this on my own. Please. Leave.”
My legs shook as I stood and a lump formed in my throat. I wanted to argue, but I knew the next words out of my mouth would be something embarrassing and would be followed by a flood of tears that would make this harder for both of us. I made it to the door and turned to face him, holding back my hurt and frustration with every ounce of strength I had. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I thought we…”
“You thought wrong.” His voice was hard, his expression cold and empty. He stared me down until I couldn’t stand to look at him another second. The tears fell from my eyes and I swiped them away, my heart shattering like hot glass under cold water.
I turned back one more time, ready to beg, ready to do whatever it took to stay close to him. He looked like he couldn’t care less. My blood boiled, driving my temper to surface. “Fine, but maybe I won’t be around when you change your mind.”
“Maybe.” He stood military straight and stared past me to the stairs. He couldn’t have hurt me worse if he’d slapped me.
I turned my back and walked away. “Good-bye, Coop.”
Chapter 13
A sharp pain shot through my wrist. I ignored it and hit the heavy bag again, an unladylike grunt escaping my lips. I followed with a roundhouse kick, a wheel kick and a back fist, releasing what amounted to a loud growl aimed at the defenseless bag.
“Anything I can do?” Vic grabbed the swinging black leather as the chains rattled overhead.
I turned away, my breath coming in ragged gasps, a cramp forming under my ribs. I bent over, my hands on my knees. A bottle of water appeared under my nose. “Thanks.” I twisted the cap and chugged.
“I suppose this has something to do with Corporal Cooper’s absence here in the past week.” Vic sat on the bench and patted the spot next to her. Reluctantly, I plunked down on the bench, still breathing heavy.
“He doesn’t want to see me. He says we’re done.” The words tasted bitter and the lump that had been in my throat all week felt like I’d swallowed a peach pit. I had tried to put him out of my mind. I went to the movies with Pen and Katie, hung out at the mall, spending my meager income on stupid shoes and makeup I would never wear. I ran past Alex’s house twelve times hoping he would see me and come out to grovel. No such luck. I was pathetic. I leaned back against the wall, the cool concrete easing the itch of sweat trickling down my spine.
“You’ve got to give him some time. I know it’s hard, but you need to be patient.” She let out a sympathetic sigh. “What set him off?”
“He got his discharge papers.”
“I see. That would piss off any Marine who didn’t leave by choice. It’s programmed in. You know how it is. Duty, honor, loyalty…Semper Fi and all that. He feels betrayed. He’s angry. He feels terrible about Levi. And the leg…well…the boy’s got a heap of dung on his plate and not two slices of bread to go with it. You can’t take it personally.”
“It’s just that he is so smart. He has so much potential and he just can’t see it.” I realized the ache that had taken up residence in my heart was as much for him as it was for me. “It would be such a waste for him to give up on himself.” Even if he didn’t want anything to do with me, I wanted the best for him.
“Has he seen the military’s investigative report?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. If they gave him a copy, he hasn’t shared it with me.” Another wave of emptiness and hurt washed over me. I hated that he shut me out. What I hated even more was how much I wanted him back. I missed the shy, ‘I’m-thinking-I-might-kiss-you’ sparkle in his green eyes and the ‘don’t-even-think-about-resisting’ smile that went with it. I’d only caught glimpses, but I was clearly sucked into the romantic notion that maybe, just maybe, Alex loved me back. I refused to believe I’d read the signals w
rong.
“Typically, you need a security clearance to see special ops reports, but if he could get his hands on that, it might put this thing to rest once and for all. He would know for sure what happened and he could move on.” She patted my leg and nudged me with her shoulder. “And so could you.”
I let out a rush of air, my shoulders relaxing a fraction. “So how does one go about acquiring these reports?”
“Well, as I said, you would need a security clearance. Maybe Brig knows somebody.”
My shoulders tensed up again. “He won’t help me. He’s made it pretty clear he wants me to leave this alone.” My brain started spinning, the seed of an idea sprouting like a bean. “You’ve been a big help, though. Thanks, Vic.” I gave her a quick squeeze and stood.
Her dark brows arched, a noticeable contrast to her bleached blond hair. “I don’t want to know what you’re planning, but whatever it is, I had nothing to do with it and don’t get in over your head.”
“I’ll be careful. Don’t worry.” I dashed for the shower with the thought rolling around in my head--I’m already in way past turning back.
I dressed quickly, slipping into a pair of shorts, a tee shirt and sneakers. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and jumped into the car. I needed to see Alex and tell him about my idea. He might not go for it right away, but I was sure I could convince him. The hardest part would be getting past the small issue of him not wanting to see me. Vic said it wasn’t personal, but I had my doubts. It felt very personal to me. But given all he’d been through, maybe I had pushed him too hard. Maybe he just wasn’t ready to let himself get too close to anyone, especially the sister of his best friend. Not when he was feeling so responsible. How could I be so dense?
I stopped at his house first but Mrs. Cooper said he’d left a couple of hours ago and taken her car. He hadn’t said where he was going and I could see she was worried. Where the heck could he be? I drove to Somerville, my heart pounding with the rhythm of the music on the radio. I checked the pool hall, circled the parking lot at the mall, tried his cell phone a bunch of times and finally decided it was futile. He could be anywhere.
I turned around and steered back toward the lake, a nervous twitchy feeling taking over. Something was wrong. I could feel it. He wouldn’t do anything stupid, would he? I comforted myself in knowing that he of all people was unlike my brother. Alex was not self-destructive by nature. He had fought for Levi’s life dozens of times—probably kept him alive much longer than he would have ever made it without such a steady and level-headed friend as Alex.
When I zipped past the Old Thompson Lake Tavern I spotted the blue BMW. I hit the brakes and backed up, pulling into the parking lot and kicking up dust. Yup, it was Mrs. Cooper’s car alright. Crap. What was he doing at a bar? Beside the fact he wasn’t legal, this particular bar attracted a pretty rough crowd. Mostly bikers passing through, or lowlife regulars who stayed and drank until they could barely walk, let alone drive. The local cops patrolled the parking lot every hour or so trying to keep the idiots from getting behind the wheel.
The bar, an old barn-style building, had a run-down, country boy feel to it. Antlered heads of deer and mounted fish on wooden plaques hung on the exposed beams overhead. The stench of stale beer and fried food hit me as I entered through the front door. The place was busy for a Saturday afternoon. Several leather-clad, bearded men sat stationed around a pool table, while the bar stools were filled with middle-aged men and a couple of guys in their twenties, knocking back shots and beers enough to have them swaying in their seats. I saw Alex right away, sitting at the bar staring at the flat screen TV, a Red Sox vs. Yankees game keeping his attention. The big game explained the crowd.
I approached cautiously, uncertain about the reception I was about to get. Heads turned and I felt my face heat up as several pairs of eyes stayed glued on my boobs. What was I thinking? I had no business being here. But then again, neither did Alex.
Alex had on a USMC tee-shirt stretched tight over his muscular chest and shoulders. His blond hair was combed back, longer than I’d seen it since he was in high school. With a couple days’ stubble, he looked much older than nineteen and the bartender must have decided not to card a Marine with a prosthetic leg, figuring he’d earned at least the right to have a few beers. Alex wore shorts, either trying to make a statement about his leg, or beyond caring what anyone thought. I slid onto the bar stool next to him and the bartender, a pinched-face man with a huge gut, smirked at me. His expression said, “Don’t even try it.”
“Could I get a ginger-ale please?” I asked sweetly. He looked from me to Alex and back again as Alex nodded to acknowledge me.
“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” Alex said. He seemed to think this was funny because he snickered, slapped a twenty onto the counter, and downed the rest of his beer. “Keep ‘em comin’, Tommy.” He slid the bottle across the mahogany and the bartender sent a full one back.
“Drinking is not going to help.” I eyed him as he drew a long swig off the frosty beer.
He set the bottle down hard and glared at me, turning his attention back to the game. “What are you doing here, Jordie?”
“I came to get you out of here. We need to talk.” The bartender set my drink onto a coaster and shook his head as if I was creating some kind of drama he wanted no part of. I took a long sip through the straw, a fizzy tickle hitting my nose and making me blink.
“I already said what I needed to say to you. You need to leave me alone. I’ll be fine.” His words slurred a bit and it was clear he was anything but fine.
“At least let me drive you home. You are in no condition to…”
“What are you, my mother now? Just go home and stop bugging me. Man, you are such a pain. Just like when we were kids. Always tagging along, getting in the way, ruining our fun.”
His words stung even though I knew he didn’t mean them. Or maybe he did. I was always a third wheel when it came to him and my brother, but there were times he had made me feel like we were the three musketeers and that I was more than just Levi’s kid sister. I wouldn’t let him push me away. “Whether you like it or not, Marine, you need me. Now get your ass out of that chair and let me give you a ride home. I think you’ve had enough.”
He slugged the rest of the beer and slammed the bottle down, “In case you haven’t heard, I’m no longer a Marine. But, you’re right. I have had enough! Enough of you trying to run my life.” He ran his hands through his hair, his jaw tightening. “Let me make this clear. I don’t want you in my life right now.” His voice escalated and the bartender gave us both a dirty look. The two guys that were seated a couple of stools down snickered at some comment one of them had made and then had the stupidity to repeat it out loud.
“If he won’t go with you, sweetheart, you can take me.” The comment came from a skinny guy with bad skin and greasy hair.
His buddy who was no less of a derelict and no more appealing piped in, “You can have us both. Two of us has gotta’ be better than a one-legged ex-Marine.” He belched and laughed again at his own hilarity.
My blood surged and my mouth took over. “I’d rather a one-legged Marine than a two-headed ass,” I sniped. My nerves crackled with the anger that rose from somewhere deep inside me. I stood and faced the two jerks, my fingers flexing instinctively. “How dare you insult a man who has fought for your right to be a jackass. Fought to keep you safe in your own country so you don’t have to live in fear every day that someone is going to drop a bomb in your backyard…” I was just heating up when Alex grabbed my arm.
“It’s not worth it, Jordie. These guys are idiots.” A smug smirk crossed his face and I immediately had a bad feeling. He added, “Ugly-ass idiots, too.”
Both men stood and I felt the energy in the room shift. Beyond the ball game, conversation came to a halt. Tension hummed in the air as Alex stepped in front of me and faced off with the two men. He stood taller than both of them, but they were either too dr
unk or too stupid to stand down.
“I don’t want any trouble,” the bartender said.
“No trouble, Tommy.” Skinny boy slicked back his hair and eyed me in a way that immediately made me feel like I needed to take a shower. “We’re just making friends with this pretty girl.”
Alex stared the two men down, coiled energy rolling off him in waves. Before I had the chance to enjoy seeing him mop the floor with them, a third guy rounded the corner from the men’s room. He stood six-foot four and had to weigh at least two hundred and sixty pounds. He sidled up to the two men who were smirking like they had just pulled out a grenade launcher.
“Is there a problem here?” he asked, stepping in front of the other two men.
“Great, the three stooges.” Alex apparently couldn’t resist poking the porcupine, a move I would have expected from Levi—not the mild-mannered Alex Cooper I had grown up with. Considering the odds, I missed my big brother more than ever.
At this point the bartender was reaching for the phone and I knew things were about to get uglier. My heart hammered in my chest and I willed Alex to back down. I grabbed his arm and stepped up beside him, trying to capture his gaze, which was piercing darts into the big man’s face.
“Let’s just leave, okay, Coop?”
The skinny guy laughed and mimicked me, “Let’s just leave, okay, Coop?” He snickered and bumped elbows with the other guy, pointing at Alex. “Is she your mama, or just your whore?”
I felt Alex go rigid. Crap. Before I could say another word, he shot a punch out at the big guy, no doubt realizing that to get to the skinny one he had to go through the brick wall first. The brick wall staggered backward but recovered quickly. His eyes grew wide and then narrowed to slits. He came at Alex with both hands. Alex side-stepped awkwardly but managed to shoot his new foot out, evade the man’s grasp and send the guy flying past him. The barstools scattered like bowling pins. Alex had his back turned to the gathering crowd, waiting for the man to get up, when the skinny kid jumped him.