Rescuing Broken

by Gina Azzi

  I watch, relieved, as he looks up and I finally place him. It's Hunter, her brother's best friend. I heard he just got back from Germany. He was there for several weeks after his eye surgery. Jesus. I avert my gaze; there is seriously something wrong with me.

  Pushing into the locker room, I try to get my head on straight. I'm here to heal. To fix my shoulder shit. To finish out my contract. I stash my gym big, give the combination lock a spin, and head out to the weight room.

  Glancing around, I notice that Hunter is gone, and Evie is standing off to the side, looking through a manila folder. Her eyebrows are drawn together, and she's chewing her lower lip, deep in thought. She looks adorable.

  Starting my first set, I grimace as my shoulder tightens and a throbbing pain radiates up my neck. Screw this. My head is pounding; I'm not focused on anything but clearing the air with Evie, and at this rate, I'm going to injure myself even more. I'm about to bail on all of the exercises and demand that Evie hear me out when two guys I do recognize saunter into Morris as if they own the place and aren't here for PT.

  I place them immediately; two kids I graduated high school with.

  I watch as they joke between themselves but as they advance closer toward Evie, something shifts. The atmosphere charges, the order of the gym suddenly seems out of balance. Evie's back stiffens and her shoulders slump toward each other as if she wants to curl into herself and become invisible. She shrinks back as one of the guys, Gary Reitter, hits the other one in the stomach with the back of his hand and tips his chin in Evie's direction. Gary, I ran into him months ago, back when I first started here. The other guy, I'm pretty sure his name is Paul, Paul Hawkins, follows along and smirks, a nasty twisting of his mouth and a dangerous look flashing in his eyes.

  They're enjoying her discomfort. Getting off on it.

  What the hell?

  They walk toward Evie, and she turns abruptly, panic crossing her face. I take a step in her direction.

  "Hey, Evie," Gary calls out, coming to stand next to her. He tosses an arm around her shoulder and she flinches, her eyes swinging away from him wildly.

  "Haven't seen you around much lately," Hawkins comments, an edge to his tone. "Not since the last time we caught up in the parking lot. Before your friends showed up. Remember?"

  Evie's chest starts to rise and fall quickly, her breathing erratic, as if she can't suck oxygen into her lungs fast enough.

  And that does it.

  Her terror, the way it rolls off her and infuses the air with tension, has me seeing red. Not understanding anything that is unfolding between the three of them but knowing that whatever it is, it’s causing Evie severe anxiety, is enough for me to step in. Grinding my fist into my hand, my knuckles crack loudly, and Gary and Hawkins look up, surprise crossing their faces.

  Gary drops his arm from around Evie's shoulders. She stands straight as a board, her eyes trained on a spot on the wall, unblinking.

  "Kane," Hawkins remarks, a slow smile working its way across his face. "Man, I didn't know you were in today."

  "Everything okay, Evie?" I ignore Gary and Hawkins completely, my focus trained on her. My concern for her safety skyrockets as she doesn't move a muscle. It's as if she's in a trance.

  Gary snorts derisively. "That's right." He snaps his fingers between Evie and me. "You two used to be," he says, shaking his head, "whatever you were. It's nice of you to check up on our girl, Evie, after all this time. Isn't it, Hawk?"

  Hawkins nods, a menacing smile still on his face. "Sure is. It's been, what? Seven, eight years?"

  "Evie?" I reach out slowly, touching her fingers, and she jumps, her eyes latching onto mine. The emptiness I see there is heartbreaking in its intensity. "Come on." I tug her hand gently, pulling her away from Gary and Hawkins and steering her toward the exit of Morris.

  Gary and Hawkins keep their eyes trained on my back like a bull’s eye. I can feel it, and it causes pure rage to beat through my bloodstream. Adrenaline pulses throughout my body and I have a difficult time focusing on Evie when all I want to do is turn around and pin them both against the wall until they tell me what the hell is going on. After I have my answers, I’ll determine how badly I unleash on them. But neither of them would leave Morris walking.

  I'm seething, practically shaking with an anger I’ve never experienced before. The day I heard two guys talking about me and Evie in the locker room flickers through my mind, further fueling my rage. But right now, I know that more than pummeling the two little shits I once graduated with, I need to get Evie out of here. Make sure she feels safe.

  "Evie's not feeling well," I say to Marco on the way out. "I'm taking her home."

  He glances at her and whatever he reads on her face convinces him I'm telling the truth, because he doesn't question me.

  I guide Evie gently out of Morris and into the bright sunlight. She winces, lowering her eyes to the ground. Placing my fingers at the small of her back, I nudge her forward, toward the parking lot where Denver's SUV waits for us. I’m relieved when I feel my keys bounce against my leg, weighing down the pocket of my shorts. I was so distracted by Evie and clearing the air between us that I forgot to stash them in the locker. I pull them out and unlock the SUV.

  Helping her into the seat, I buckle her in like a child. Her skin is frighteningly cold, her eyes blank, and her breathing normalizing but still irregular. I jog around the front of the SUV and slide into the driver's seat, turning on the ignition. We sit in silence for several minutes.

  I watch as the shaking of her body slowly stops, as her fingers relax in her lap. She closes her eyes, dropping her head back against the headrest.

  "Thank you," she whispers, her voice raw and broken.

  "Evie," I breathe out, scared that whatever I say will somehow cause her more pain. Treading lightly, I reach across the center console and leave my hand open, palm up, unthreatening. "Evie, what's going on?"

  She shakes her head, a bead of moisture leaking from the corner of her eye. She turns toward the window then, trying to inconspicuously wipe the tear away without my noticing.

  I stare out the windshield, giving her a minute to collect herself.

  When I turn toward her again, she's staring at me, her eyes swirling with so many emotions I can't pull one out to get a solid read on her.

  "Can you take me for a coffee?" she asks.

  “Of course. But Evie—"

  She shakes her head, cutting me off. "Not now, Jax. Please. I can't right now."

  "Okay," I agree uneasily, backing out of the parking spot and pulling away from Morris.

  In my rearview mirror, I see the outline of Gary and Hawkins watching us.

  I slam my fist down against the steering wheel, hopped up on adrenaline and anger and the overwhelming desire to drop the two of them and demand answers. Answers I'm starting to guess at, answers that repulse me almost as much as they devastate me.

  Evie slides closer to the car door until she's practically molded against it.

  Shit. I scared her. She's scared and upset and needs me.

  This time, I'll be damned if I let her down.

  24

  Evie

  The warmth of the mug between my hands is soothing. I inhale deeply, calming my racing heart and focusing on my breath. I'm okay. Everything is fine. Gary and Paul do not have control over me.

  "Cookie? It's chocolate chip." Jax takes a seat in the armchair across from me, holding out a piece of cookie.

  I break off a piece and nibble at it. I'm in shock. That's it. Shock. The sugar will help. With each moment that passes, I feel the terror receding. The clamminess of my palms dries, and the wild thoughts ping-ponging around my head begin to quiet. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe in. Breathe out. I run through a round of breathing exercises.

  I'm okay. Everything is fine. Gary and Paul do not have control over me.

  "You okay?" Jax asks gently.

  I nod.

  We sit in silence, listening to the sounds of the coffee house aroun
d us. Random snippets of conversation from other customers float past my ears. I hear the clink of coffee mugs as they are placed on the tiny wooden tables, the clacking of keyboards as students type out answers to study questions, and lyrics of a song I recognize as one of Graham's favorites growing up.

  "Do you want to talk about it?" Jax leans toward me, concern marring his brow.

  "Thank you." I deflect, forcing myself to smile at him, so he'll think I'm fine. But really, who am I kidding? "I'm really glad you were there."

  He looks away for a moment, and I don't miss how he runs his hand over the top of his head, tugging on the back of his neck. He's frustrated. Angry even. He doesn't understand.

  But how could he?

  "Evie, please." His green eyes find mine and beseech me to let him in. "Look, I'm sorry about the other night. I shouldn't have snapped at you the way I did. The things I said were—"

  "Truthful."

  "Out of line."

  "You were right. I didn't even show up."

  Jax sighs, dropping his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. He takes a deep breath, breaking off a piece of cookie and popping it into his mouth. He chews thoughtfully, his eyes studying me.

  "Evie."

  "I'm sorry I pushed you. I had no right to question your decision regarding the Army. You made incredible sacrifices to serve your country. And I'm truly sorry that you lost Ethan, a loyal friend, a brave soldier," I tell him truthfully, even though my words sound like I'm reciting something Mom says when she comforts a grieving soldier or family.

  Jax's eyes narrow at me, as if he knows I'm just repeating words.

  But I have to keep talking. I need to take control of this conversation and redirect the attention away from myself. I need to end things with Jax. I knew it the other night in his kitchen when I could see myself falling right back into a relationship with him. I became overwhelmed for an obvious reason; things between us can never work. I’ll never be what he needs and after he learns the truth, I’ll never be who he wants. Denver was right; it's not fair to keep letting Jax get close and then pushing him away.

  Plus, there's Baylor. If I’m accepted, then I'm leaving here. I need to think about myself and my future. Protecting myself needs to be my number one priority, and I can't give up my trust to Jax just because I did it once before.

  Look how well that turned out.

  "I'm so happy you're back," I continue, the honesty in my tone more obvious now. “I'm thankful you're safe. But seven years is a long time. A lot has happened. A lot has changed."

  "I get that." He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Evie, what happened back there? What the hell is going on with Gary and Hawkins?”

  “Nothing.” I swallow a gulp of my latte.

  “Nothing? Seriously? They scared the shit out of you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Evie, please, help me understand. What is going on? Why didn’t you go to West Point? Why did you stay here? I never thought, I never realized that," he pauses, trying to find the right words. Trying not to hurt me with them.

  "That I wouldn't amount to anything at all?" I supply.

  He glares at me. "That's not what I was going to say."

  I shrug.

  "Why won't you let me in?" He says it more to himself than to me.

  "Because I can't handle any more heartbreak," I answer anyway. "I can't handle any more letdowns."

  "I never meant to let you down."

  "I know. But that doesn't make it any less true."

  He rips into the cookie again, almost angrily this time.

  "I've let myself down, too. You were right about what you said the other night at your house… I'm sorry too. It wasn't my place to voice an opinion on whatever you decide to do once your contract finishes."

  “What if I wanted you to have an opinion on what I decide to do when my contract finishes?"

  I can’t look at him when I say, “It’s not my place and I don’t want it to be.”

  "There's something between us." Jax’s voice rises with emotion. He gestures his finger back and forth in the space separating us. "I feel it. I know you feel it. And I'm not just going to ignore it because seven years has passed, and it's a long time and we've changed. All of that is true. But so is the fact that I still care about you. I still want you. I want to be the person you confide in. And I want to give us another chance."

  I close my eyes, the honesty burning in his is hypnotizing.

  "I'm applying to Baylor-Army. If I’m accepted, I’m moving."

  “I know that.”

  “It’s in Texas.” I add.

  "I know that, too.”

  "I don't think now is the best time to explore," I gesture between us in the same manner he did, "whatever this is. I need to focus on my future and if things go the way I hope, I’ll be living in San Antonio in a few months.”

  "You're not moving until August or September."

  I stare at him, trying to think of a comeback for that. "Correct."

  "Evie, what happened with Gary and Hawkins back at Morris?"

  Their names cause a shudder to race through my body, and Jax's eyes zero in.

  "Look, I'm really happy you’re back, Jax. And I hope this car shop with Denver works out the way you want it to and is wildly successful. But right now, I need to focus on a career path and not so much on sorting out a complicated history.”

  He stares at me like he doesn’t even recognize me, his mouth hanging open. The only thing giving away the fury he's feeling is how his fingers shred the cookie into crumbs.

  I place my mug on the little table between us. "Thank you for today. Really." I dip my head to catch his eyes and make sure he sees the sincerity and gratitude I hold for him. "The last few weeks have been... wonderful." I manage a smile. "But I can't give you more right now, not like you deserve. I should get going. I'll see you around."

  He narrows his eyes, watching me.

  I stand up and start to walk past him. I've almost cleared him when his hand shoots out and clamps down on my wrist. I jump, and he immediately lets go.

  "I don't know what happened to you, Evie." His voice is so low I have to strain my ears to hear him. "But I'm starting to guess, and none of the scenarios are okay. Every one I imagine ends with me choking the life out of the person who hurt you. What you need to understand now is that I'm not going anywhere. I'm not just giving up. Not on you and not on us. So you focus on your future career path, but I'll be focusing on you."

  Goosebumps skate over my skin at his words. Part of me wants to just sit down on his lap, wind my arms around his neck, and cry out all of the feelings bubbling in my chest until his T-shirt is soaked through. And the other part wants to run from him as fast as I can before he can uncover all the ugly truths I keep locked away.

  Inhale. Exhale. Breathe in. Breathe out.

  “Let me drive you home,” he says, standing up.

  “That’s okay. I’m only a block away, and I’d like to walk.”

  Ignoring his protests, I move past him. Keeping my eyes trained on the exit, I walk right out the door and out of Jaxon Kane's life.

  I'm okay. Everything is fine. Gary and Paul do not have control over me. They can't hurt me anymore.

  No one can.

  That night I sit on my couch, wrapped in one of my favorite blankets. A generous glass of wine stains my coffee table. My laptop balances in my lap as I strain my ears against the silence, hoping for just one sound of comfort. Of Graham unlocking the front door. Of a text coming through from Jax.

  Something.

  I exhale deeply, starting a round of breathing exercises to diffuse the ball of anxiety expanding in my chest. Something's gotta give.

  Something.

  I'm trying. I really am. I want to move forward, heal, live. I'm tired of just surviving, existing in this state between what happened, who I was, and now who I want to be. Is that awful? Probably. I feel like I'm stuck in limbo. Just biding my time, waiting. Paying my p
enance. But what the hell am I paying for? I didn't do anything wrong. Not a goddamn thing. And instead of owning that, that I was the victim, that I was wronged, I'm drowning in it. Losing pieces of myself with each day that passes and regressing farther and farther away from the person I’d like to be.

  Sometimes, I wonder if I should have moved years ago. Left this town and the people in it behind, the way Jax did. Would changing the scenery, the environment, the atmosphere have helped? Would going someplace where no one knows me, doesn't care that my last name is Army gold, matter? Would it be better?

  Is that what I'm trying to do by pinning my hopes on Baylor? Begin fresh?

  But Baylor is still Army; it's a different path than the one I envisioned, but it still leads to the same place: military service.

  How will I know what I need to heal if I don't try anything new? I ask myself this a lot. I get all fired up with this spark of how tomorrow is going to be different. Tomorrow, I'm going to make changes. Tomorrow, will be the first step in a series of steps that will define me.

  Then tomorrow comes, and panic seizes my throat. Something always happens to set me off. Waking from a nightmare, the smell of his cologne blocking my nose so I can hardly breathe. Seeing his car around town. Hearing their voices as they walk into Morris like they own the place. Always cocky, arrogant, and downright full of themselves. One of them will smile at me, and my insides will shut down, causing me to freeze. The day is lost, and I lie to myself that tomorrow will be different.

  Who the hell wants to live like this?

  Not a normal person.

  But I'm not normal, am I? I can't go out with my girlfriends and let loose. I can't drink beer or sit by myself in the dark. I hate the smell of spicy men's cologne. I practically run past Sephora in the mall. I don't know how to be because my life is filled with triggers that set me off. Little reminders that take hold of my mind and paralyze my body. Ordinary things a normal person would never react to.