by Andria Large
Table of Contents
Copyright
Also by Andria Large
Blurb
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dear Reader
Acknowledgements
About The Author
By: Andria Large
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Finding Gunnar
Copyright © 2017 by Andria Large.
All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, scanned, distributed, or used in any manner whatsoever, via the Internet, electronic, or print, without the express written permission of the authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For more information, or information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the author: http://www.AuthorAndriaLarge.com
Edited by: Megan Hershenson
Cover Design by: Andria Large
First Edition, 2017
Please note: Andria Large acknowledges the copyrighted items named in the novel, Finding Gunnar. The author does not own the right to the products, songs, or brands that are mentioned in this story.
Also by Andria Large:
The Beck Brothers Series:
Henry
Sebastian
Quinn
Christian
A Beck Valentine (novella)
Renegade Series:
Sweet Renegade
Wild Renegade
A Taboo Love Series:
Hey There, Delilah…
Unmasking Charlotte
Crossing The Line
Steeling Parker (novella)
Standalones:
Hammer & Nails
How To Save A Life
How To Save Love
War Wounded
From War To Forever
What If I Stay
Finding Gunnar
Blurb
Gunnar
He has no idea who he is. What he does know is that he was stabbed, shot, and crushed under a wall when his unit was attacked when he was in the Army. Now, he’s just trying to find his way. He’s fucking angry and tired of dealing with his poor excuse of a life and am doing his best to drown his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle. The pieces of his forgotten life are reappearing and they terrify him more than the uncertain future ahead…
Bowen
He’s a lot of things, but what he’s not, is a babysitter. He has his own shit to deal with, let alone take care of a guy who barely knows who he is. Gunnar is his brother’s best friend, and Bowen's former lover. So when his brother asks for a favor, he can’t say no.
What he wasn’t expecting was the feelings that started happening when Gunnar needed his help. The vulnerability in his voice tugged at Bowen’s heart. Although Gunnar has no memory of who he is, Bowen’s getting glimpses of the man he used to be. He’s hoping Gunnar will let Bowen help him find himself again. Otherwise, Bowen’s afraid he’ll be lost forever.
Table Of Contents
Copyright
Also by Andria Large
Blurb
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dear Reader
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Prologue
KABOOM!
A LOUD, ground-shaking explosion jolts Gunnar out of his sleep and into an upright position on his bunk. A light comes on, illuminating everyone who is also sitting up in their bunks, confusion etched on their faces as their eyes dart around. He blinks away the last remainders of sleep just as another earth shattering explosion rocks the tent.
KABOOM!
“Holy shit! We’re taking fire!” someone yells, forcing everyone into motion.
He tears his itchy wool blanket from his legs, thanking his lucky stars that he kept his pants on; sometimes he sleeps in his underwear. He shoves his bare feet into his boots, which always sit next to his bed, ready to go in case of an emergency - like now.
An ear-piercing siren blares through the air; one only used for an attack on the base - like now. Fuck. He jumps to his feet and grabs his pistol and rifle from the locker that sits next to the head of the bed. Not having time to attach his holster to a belt, he shoves his pistol into his waistband at the small of his back before tossing the three-point sling of his rifle over his neck, bringing his arm through the loop. He then packs his pants pockets full of extra magazines. Everyone else does about the same thing, all of them in various states of undress, from T-shirts and boxers, to bare chests and tightie-whities. It’s hard to look badass when you’re in boxers and boots, but there isn’t really a choice at the moment.
Gunnar and his bunkmates exit their tent, using their honed skills to move quickly and silently as a team. The sounds of the base moving into action are too loud to be able to hear each other, so they use hand motions to communicate. The sight he’s met with will forever be etched in his mind as he steps out into the cool night air - fire, smoke, and chaos. The familiar smell of burning flesh sears his nostrils. One of the other “general purpose” tents is blown to high hell, what’s left of it on fire, and the men inside have been strewn across the ground around it, some still burning. There is so much smoke that it’s hard to see or breathe. He pushes forward as the group races into the mayhem to help fight their attackers.
They quickly discover that the base is completely surrounded and they’re outnumbered. Not good. There are not many options when it comes to how this is going to end. They will either hold their attackers off until backup arrives, or they'll die trying.
Gunnar takes cover behind one of the vehicles. Using his rifle, he starts picking people off. They aren’t on a big base, and with half of the platoon now dead, they need to take out as many insurgents as possible. There are three other men behind the vehicle with him, all doing their best to kill as many of these fuckers as humanly possible.
“INCOMING! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!” screams the guy next to him.
Without a second thought, they move their fucking asses, running away from the vehicle, exposing themselves to rifle fire. Seconds later, the vehicle is hit by an RPG. The blast throws him and the other guys forward, one of them crashing into Gu
nnar as they fly through the air. Gunnar slides and rolls on the rocky, sand covered ground, which fucking hurts since it's tearing at the bare skin of his chest and stomach. Ever hear of road rash? Ouch. Coughing dirt out of his mouth, he looks back at the truck through smoke and flaming debris to find that it’s been completely torn apart and is fully engulfed in flames. Jesus Christ, that was close. Scrambling to his feet as rounds hiss by - there's no time to lay there and stare - he races for the cinderblock building in front of him that houses the showers.
Gunnar slams his back against the wall, looking to his left and right, realizing that he’s now alone, no idea what the hell happened to the other guys that were with him. They must have found cover somewhere else.
He peeks around the corner of the building and almost gets shot. Chunks of cinderblock spray his face, some of the dust getting in his eyes. Jerking back, he presses his head against the wall to catch his breath and brush the debris from his eye lashes. His heart is trying to pound its way out of his chest, and his breathing is rapid. Waves of adrenaline race through his veins, giving his body the power that it needs to fight.
“I’m not goin’ down like this. I will not die like this.” Gunnar whispers fiercely to himself, needing the pep talk while he scans the dark area around him. The glow from objects still on fire is the only light he has. “You can do this, Erikson. You got this. You’re not gonna die tonight.”
Just as he makes a move to stand, footsteps approach fast from his right side. He turns with his rifle just in time to see that it’s an insurgent with a large knife. He’s able to get a few rounds off, hitting the guy in the stomach, but he’s not fast enough to stop him from plunging that huge knife into the top of his right shoulder.
Gunnar screams as white-hot pain lights his whole right side and doubles his vision. His arm immediately becomes immobile, causing him to drop his rifle so it hangs from its sling. He uses his left hand to grab the pistol from his waistband. He’s screwed if he can’t protect himself. He could shoot the rifle one handed, but it’s easier to use the pistol at this range. A wave of dizziness makes Gunnar pitch forward, but he catches himself with his left hand, which is still gripping his gun. He peeks over at the man who snuck up on him to find him unmoving on the ground, a puddle of blood under his midsection. He also catches sight of the knife sticking straight up from his shoulder and the blood pouring down his right arm. Holy fuck, that’s bad, really bad. The handle of the knife almost comes up as high as his temple. An instant later, it feels like a burning hot poker stabbing him in the calf.
Fuck me, did I just get shot?
Nausea hits him hard and he can feel the blood rush from his head to his feet. He’s never been a fan of blood, especially his own, so seeing a gigantic knife piercing his skin and the blood that is running down his arm and now soaking his pant leg…No! I will not pass out!
Breaking out in a cold sweat, Gunnar swallows hard and shoves to his feet, his legs wobbling and shaking. He throws his left arm out to lean against the wall with his forearm for support.
There is no way in hell I’m letting go of my pistol.
He’s got to find better cover. Taking only one step, the world above him explodes. Large pieces of cinderblock rain down on him, hitting him in the head, back, and shoulders. Unable to keep his feet under him, he falls to the ground face first. Spitting out the dirt that finds it’s way into his mouth, he pushes with what energy he has left to roll onto his right side. The last sight he sees is the wall above him starting to crumble. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to cover his head as best he can with his left arm, but it’s not enough, a large chunk of wall falls, hitting him from head to waist, making everything go black in an instant.
Chapter One
AS SOON as Griffin walks in the front door, he’s hit with the incredible scent of whatever is cooking. His mouth immediately starts to water and his stomach growls loudly as he makes his way to the kitchen. His favorite sight greets him, his lovely girlfriend of two years, Eva. She is setting bowls of what looks like stew on the kitchen table.
“Hey, you’re just in time!”
The bright smile on her face is a dead giveaway that she’s happy to see him. It’s been a couple of days since the last time they were together because they’ve both been busy with work. He gives her a kiss hello then takes his seat at the small four-seater table. Eva’s one bedroom apartment is on the smaller side, but it’s cozy, and she makes the most of the space that she has.
Once she joins him at the table, he digs into the steaming bowl in front of him. He’s absolutely starving, not having too many breaks today to grab something to eat. “Damn, Baby. This is outta this world,” he moans around the delicious food.
“Thanks, Love,” Eva responds with a smile.
The chunks of beef, potatoes, and carrots are so savory that they practically melt in his mouth. He’s loving every bite of it. She’s the best cook; everything she makes is amazing. They don’t live together yet, but they spend a lot of time at each other’s places when not at work. Eva is a first grade teacher and the sweetest, most caring woman Griffin has ever met. He doesn’t know what he’d do without her.
“So, how was the first week back at school?” He asks then spoons more stew into his mouth.
“It was good. I have a great class this year,” she chirps while dipping her spoon into her bowl.
“That’s awesome, Baby.”
“Yeah, this age is so cute. They— ” she begins but is interrupted by his cell phone ringing.
Holding up a finger, he sets down his spoon and lifts his hip to pull his phone out of the back pocket of his worn jeans. Checking the number, he sees that it’s an international call. With a frown, he wonders who the hell…wait! It must be Gunnar! Griffin and Gunnar met in boot camp ten years ago, became fast friends, and have been best friends ever since. After their eight years of service together, Gunnar reenlisted but Griffin didn’t.
“Sorry, Babe. I gotta answer this,” he tells her and swipes his thumb across the screen to answer the call. “Hello?”
The next few minutes are mostly a blur. It’s not Gunnar on the phone, but an Army official calling to say that Gunnar has been critically injured in an attack. Griffin can only mumble some “Uh huh’s” and “Okay’s” as he listens to what they are telling him. He barely hears them say goodbye because the blood thundering in his ears is so loud.
He stares blankly at the screen of his phone, devastation sinking into every bone in his body. He’s always dreaded getting this call. He thinks everyone who has family or friends in the military dreads this call. This can’t really be happening. He just talked to him last week, and he was perfectly fine. The only good thing he can say is that it was a phone call and not two soldiers showing up at his door.
“Griffin? Who was that?” asks Eva.
The apprehension and worry in her voice makes his heart squeeze painfully. He glances over at her from where he’s sitting and meets her honey-colored eyes. Big mistake. The concern and fear etched on her beautiful face kills him; she knows something bad has happened.
Griffin doesn’t know if he can form the words to tell her that they aren’t sure if his best friend is going to make it after a sudden attack on his base in Afghanistan. One tent was completely destroyed by mortar fire, along with the men inside of it, not one of them making it out alive. Obviously, that wasn’t Gunnar’s tent. They found him under a collapsed wall of the building that housed the showers, a large knife protruding from his shoulder, and the side of his head split open from his temple to the back of his head. Apparently, there was a lot of rubble to search through, and it took them twelve hours to find him, another hour to fly him out of there, then however long it took to transfer him to Landstuhl, the American run military hospital in Germany, so they could perform the surgeries he desperately needed. This all happened forty-eight hours ago, and he’s only just hearing about it because they needed to make sure they had all the correct information before they called, whi
ch he appreciates.
“That…uh…that was an Army official,” he wheezes.
Damn, I feel like my throat is closing up on me.
“An Army official?!” she squawks in a panic. “You’re not gettin’ deployed are you?!”
“What? No. I can’t be deployed, I’m out of the Army. I would need to reenlist to get deployed.” Waving a dismissive hand.
“Oh.” She blows out a relieved breath and places her hand on the base of her throat. “You scared me for a second.”
His eyes wander over her heart-shaped face, full lips, big eyes, long, dark mahogany hair, and olive skin tone. She’s of Mediterranean decent; Greek and Italian is what she told him when they first started dating. She’s absolutely gorgeous and he’s so in love with her. He will be making her his wife one day soon; hopefully, with Gunnar there to see it.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. What did they want?”
“They were callin’ to tell me…” he starts, but has to stop to clear his throat. Damn lump of emotion. “They called to let me know that Gunnar had been critically injured two days ago in an attack on his base and they aren’t sure if he’s gonna pull through. He’s in the American run military hospital in Germany. They said that I can go and be with him if I want.”
Eva gasps. “Oh my God, Griffin, that’s horrible. Does his family know?”
Eva knows who Gunnar is, she knows he’s his best friend, but she’s never met him in person. He's been overseas more than not the past couple of years they've been together. Griffin's never really gone into details about his life story with her, so she doesn’t know about his childhood and how horrible it was. Even Griffin doesn’t know all the details.
He shakes his head. “He doesn’t have any family. He made me his power of attorney and named me as beneficiary in his will after we became practically inseparable on our first tour together.”