Iron Soldier

by Katie Ford

  Chapter 14

  Claire

  Although I like to think differently, I really don’t know what I’m doing with Brent.

  Being with him is only making me more confused and making me fall in love with him all over again. Mandy warned me, but I can be too stubborn for my own good.

  With a light jacket over my jeans and blouse, and my purse slung over my shoulder, I make my way down the cobblestoned streets of Alexandria’s Old Town. Because of what happened with Brent years ago, I’ve been avoiding coming here. I ended up letting myself forget how nice it is.

  But it’s a cute town. Cherry trees blossoming from just about every corner in the spring. Delicious food of every type imaginable. Pretty old buildings. A wide open sky. When we were here together, Brent and I went everywhere, tried everything. There’s no part of Alexandria that he and I didn’t tramp through together. And that’s why it was so painful for me to be here without him.

  Now, though, my thoughts and memories of Brent bring butterflies fluttering through my belly and up into my throat. The nice kind of butterflies.

  After all this time, it feels strange. It feels… It actually feels good.

  A smile curls up the corners of my lips, and one of those butterflies moves around like mad in my belly.

  Last weekend, Brent and I had an amazing date. That crappy Tex-Mex place we went to set us up for failure from the beginning with its bad service, terrible food, and sketchy ambiance. But even with all those things going wrong, the night with Brent was fun.

  With the darkened restaurant and the little candle flickering on our table, it started to feel romantic instead of like a Chainsaw Massacre movie. Brent and I talked and laughed and were like the grown-up version of us I had sometimes imagined back when I was in high school. He’d told me about his work, and I had shared with him the beginning of an idea I had–to go to law school. Until then, Mandy was the only who knew what I wanted to do after leaving the law firm.

  After the date, it felt like Brent and I had reached a turning point. Like we were actually dating each other. During the last few days, we’ve been texting each other, even chatting on the phone a few times. He’s not much of a talker, so it feels like a real treat to get him to say more than a few words to me during those calls.

  We message each other every day now. I think about him all of the time, and I’m pretty sure he thinks about me too.

  I’m also pretty sure I’m in love with him again.

  Even thinking the words so clearly scares the crap out of me.

  I’m more confused than ever before. In the beginning, I agreed to date Brent in order to let my heart heal, but now, I’ve fallen even harder for him than when we were kids. The feelings I have for him now feel like the deep end of the ocean. I was playing in the bathtub when I was a teenager.

  It’s inevitable that I’ll drown. But I can’t bring myself to swim back to the shore.

  I’m already in too deep. He’s woven himself into the fabric of every part of my waking day.

  Whenever something happens, I think of Brent. Whenever I laugh at something funny, I make a mental note to tell him about it later in the day. He’s on my mind all the time. I can’t get enough of him. Even the fact that Brent doesn’t have social media is kind of cool–at least he can’t follow any bikini models on Instagram if he doesn’t have a smart phone.

  Mandy, of course, thinks I’m crazy for going this far with Brent again. I know she’s right. She usually is about stuff like this. But Brent is...Brent.

  In his eyes, we’re virtual strangers, but to me, he’s the man I love.

  The bell above the door to the independent coffee shop jingles cheerfully as I push it open. The smell of coffee is immediate and intoxicating. A man smiles at me and pulls the door all the way open to let me pass through. I smile back at him in return.

  “Have a nice day, ma’am,” he says in a slow southern drawl.

  “You, too. Thank you kindly, sir.”

  Sounds of the espresso machine, people talking, and coffee cups clicking against saucers meet me as I walk all the way in and go up to join the line for coffee. Although the place is no Starbucks, it has a decent business. Nothing like the little cafe, Beans and Bites, in Jefferson Meadows. The town is small, but everybody gets their coffee or tea from Beans and Bites. The little coffee shop always feels crowded but intimate at the same time. I bite my lip, suddenly wishing I was’ back there instead of here in Alexandria, searching for something I’ll probably never find.

  Answers for what happened to Brent.

  “Welcome to Best Coffee. Can I take your order?” As I get to the front of line, the girl at the bar looks anything but welcoming with her frown and forced smile, but I put on a real smile of my own.

  “A large white chocolate mocha latte, please,” I tell her.

  “That’ll be five-eighty,” the barista replies. “Your name?”

  Before I can tell her, I hear a deep masculine voice behind me.

  “Claire? Is that you?”

  I turn around to see a hulking, muscular man standing close to me. He jostles my elbow, and I almost crash into the display of packaged coffees and teas, but I manage to right myself at the last minute.

  Tony? Oh God. I was a fool to think I’d never run into anybody I knew while I was here.

  “Oh my gosh,” I gasp finally when I get past the shock of seeing him enough to speak. “Tony! It’s been years.”

  “That will be five-eighty, miss,” the barista snarls the words at me.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” With an apologetic look, I hand over my debit card to the frustrated looking barista. “It’s for Claire,” I tell her with an apologetic smile. But she only looks even more annoyed with me. “Thank you,” I add. “I appreciate it.”

  The barista nods, looking slightly less peeved as she passes over my receipt. Stepping awkwardly to the side, I push through the crowd of other customers and stand at the counter to wait for my latte.

  Tony follows me, turning sideways to avoid running into other people and the display of random coffee themed stuff for sale. His frame is almost too large for the coffee shop. And the place isn’t even that small.

  “Excuse me,” he mumbles when he accidentally bumps into a woman and her kid.

  With an irritated frown, the woman—busty with midnight black hair and lots of gold jewelry—grabs her little boy close. Then she gets a good look at Tony. Her tongue just about falls out of her mouth at the sight of the big strapping man with the handsome face, battle-hardened body, and pale green eyes. He and Brent always had the same effect on women.

  “How have you been?” I ask Tony awkwardly. “It’s been years.”

  Seeing him is like a punch in the gut. The last time I saw him was right after graduation. We threw our tacky polyester gowns into the dumpsters behind the high school and took Tony’s Jeep to the park. I can still remember how the air smelled that night–damp and warm, almost like dew. Me, Brent, Tony, and his girlfriend at the time drank beers and whooped it up in celebration.

  Afterward, Brent and I lay on our backs in the grass, holding hands and watching the clouds float across the bright sky above us. We were making plans for our future together.

  “It has been years since I’ve seen you last.” Tony clears his throat. “I’m doing pretty good,” he says in his growly voice. “Doing construction in Fredericksburg.”

  We stare awkwardly at each other. Tony has always been Brent’s friend, not mine, and something about his stoic manner has always unsettled me. But now that I’m standing face to face with him, I feel the burning need to ask about my old and current love. Maybe he’ll know things about what happened to Brent that no one else seems to.

  “Tony…” I twist my fingers around the strap of my purse and hold on tight. “Do you ever hear from Brent?” I ask.

  Tony stares at me for a long moment. “No,” he finally responds. “I don’t.”

  I know this is it–my chance to tell him. For a moment, the i
dea is strangely appealing.

  But in the end, what will it accomplish? I cringe at the awkward thought of myself, sobbing into Tony’s shirt and confessing how pathetic I’m being right now. Talking about Brent almost always makes me cry.

  And Tony is practically a stranger now.

  “It was great to see you.” I swallow hard. “I’m really glad you’re doing well.”

  “Yeah, me too.” It looks like Tony wants to say more, but he only gives me a quick nod. “I gotta go back to...” He jerks his head toward a table with a girl who’s obviously waiting for him. She’s watching us with a curious expression as she drinks her coffee. There’s no jealousy whatsoever on her face, just an endless kind of patience. I wonder if she is his steady girlfriend or wife.

  A yearning flashes briefly in my heart before I firmly crush it.

  “Um... Thanks for coming over and saying hi, Tony.”

  “No problem.” A frown settles between his eyes, and I feel like he’s trying to peer into my mind, into my heart. But there’s nothing for him to see. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

  “Okay. I will.”

  Just then, someone behind the bar calls my name, letting me know my drink is ready. “I’ll see you.” I give Tony an awkward little wave, and he responds with another nod.

  I watch as he makes his way back over to his table. The woman greets him with a squeeze of his hand and a concerned look. She pushes a coffee cup toward him, and he picks it up to drink. They’re a cute couple. Abruptly, I turn away.

  At the bar, with sickness and disappointment churning in my stomach, I’m suddenly not thirsty. Even with my latte warm and fragrant between my palms, I feel empty-handed. Tony isn’t the first person I’ve asked about Brent. No one seems to know anything.

  Sadness stops up my throat.

  Tears burn my eyes.

  What else can I do to find out the truth?

  Chapter 15

  Brent

  Damn, it’s been a long week already, and it’s only Tuesday.

  The only thing making my work week bearable is the thought of seeing Claire again tomorrow. She had to leave town for the weekend, but we have a movie date at my place to watch a couple of shows on my BFTV. A rom-com for her and then an action movie for me. Maybe we can even make out between movies. Or during. Or before.

  Hell, we can do it whenever the hell she wants.

  I feel like a kid about to go on his first date. All tingly and a little breathless if I think about Claire too long. And damn if I don’t think about her a good damn long time all day while I’m at work. It feels a little bit like an obsession, but I’m not going to fight it.

  It’s going to feel so good having her next to me on my couch after thinking about it for so long. It’s something simple, but sometimes that’s all I want even more than sex–a nice movie night in with an amazing girl. With Claire.

  I wonder if it’s too early in this thing we have going on to invite her to Nick and Lacey’s wedding with me next year.

  Thinking of it makes me smile.

  Just as I get out of the car and slam the door shut behind me, my phone chimes. I flip it open. It’s a text message from Claire, and it has a picture of a little puppy looking sad. Then the phone chimes again with another message.

  But I’m hanging in there, it says.

  I wonder what’s going on. I’ll just call her when I get inside. Maybe she wants to come over tonight. Or hell, I can go over to her place if she and her roommate are okay with it.

  Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I reach for my keys and head toward the stairs for my apartment.

  “Hey, Brent!”

  My spine stiffens, and I immediately reach for the small, holstered blade I keep in the small of my back. A man is near the building, deliberately, I think, in full sunlight. He’s leaning against a pickup truck that seems like it’s seen better days. Huge and a little rough-looking, the guy is dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a brown leather jacket. The knife is half-way out of its leather sheath before I realize I know him.

  “Tony?”

  It’s my old best friend from back in the day. From what he told me while I was in the hospital getting over my head injury, he and I grew up in the foster care system together and got into trouble together. A lot of trouble. The judge gave us both the choice of the armed services or prison. Side by side, we’d ended up in the Marines and got more or less on the right track. But I guess all of the shit we’d been through had ended up destroying our friendship. I haven’t seen him since I got back to the States from Syria.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” “Tony says, coming cautiously closer. He knows better than to sneak up me or anybody who’s gone through what he and I have.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask in a low voice, shoving my knife back into the sheath. “It’s been years, man.” Nobody from my past is in my life anymore. Seeing him is like watching that past rise up like some kind of ghost that won’t stay gone.

  “Yeah,” Tony clears his throat. “I was in Alexandria over the weekend, and I ran into someone.”

  “I don’t get what that has to do with me?” Hands crossed over my chest, I wait for him to get to the point. He’s always been a tough nut to crack. “What’s going on?”

  “I saw your old high school girlfriend,” Tony says with a tilt of his head. “You remember Claire, right?”

  Claire? My old girlfriend? From high school?

  “Who are you talking about?” I growl, nearly reaching for the knife again. Why do I suddenly feel threatened?

  “Claire Holder. That girl you swore up and down you were going to marry as soon as you got back stateside. She came looking for news about you.” Tony shoves his hands in his pockets and matches me stare for stare. “I don’t think she knows you got your brains rattled but good in that explosion that sent you home. She definitely doesn’t know about your amnesia. Looks like the only thing she might know is that you’re MIA.” Tony clears his throat again. “I didn’t tell her anything, but I think you should. She deserves to know the truth.”

  While Tony is talking, I get an odd feeling in my stomach, like I’m going to be sick. Claire? I forgot a whole life I had with her before? Suddenly, I realize what’s been going on. I stumble back and almost fall on my ass to the concrete.

  Claire found me. She think’s I’m just a douchebag who’s had so much pussy that I can’t remember her. She doesn’t know that I’m the unlucky ass guy who’s been through hell and back and can’t remember the heaven he had before.

  It explains everything–Claire’s weird behavior and our insane chemistry. The little things about her that I instinctively know.

  My beautiful Claire. She doesn’t deserve any of that.

  “Fuck…”

  “You okay, man?”

  I hear Tony coming closer, but I can’t see him. All I can see is Claire’s conflicted face the first time we “met” and then the last time I saw her. Shit, being with me must have felt like torture for her.

  Bitterness bubbles up in my throat, and this time it’s the side of the building that catches my fall when I stumble again. The bitterness floods all the way up and gushes out of my mouth in violent spurts. My lunch splats all over the pavement and my shoes.

  “Oh, man!” I see Tony’s boots at the edge of my sight, but he doesn’t come any closer. “Can I get you some help? You gonna be all right?”

  But I’m not going to be all right. How can I be when I’ve made Claire suffer like this?

  This is all so completely fucked up.

  Will she ever give me a chance to explain?

  Chapter 16

  Claire

  My cell phone hits the bedside table with a thud. The last text I sent to Brent glows on the screen.

  But I’m hanging in there.

  It’s a complete lie. If anything, I’m about to fall off this precarious edge I’ve found myself on.

  In Lexington, I talked to my mother, but she didn’t know anything when I talked with
her in person. Just like she didn’t know anything about Brent when I’d asked her over the phone a while ago. We’d never been close, so it didn’t bother me that she didn’t ask why I was questioning her so much about my supposedly long-gone boyfriend. She only answered my questions, asked if I wanted some iced tea, and then let me walk out the door when I’d said I had to leave.

  Even when I was a kid, she’d treated me more like a stranger than her daughter.

  After getting back from Lexington, I was a wreck. I drove back home in a daze and then burst into the house, where I cried on Mandy’s shoulder before falling into bed, completely exhausted. I couldn’t find out anything about Brent. Or at least, no one would tell me anything.

  The only person I can find out the truth from is Brent himself. That thought frightens me to death. Over the last few days, Brent and I have gotten closer, closer than we’d ever been as young kids in love. In the short time we’ve been reunited, I feel like he’s already part of me in a way that...that I can never shake.

  But I can’t keep going like this. Like Mandy said, this isn’t sane. It won’t make me happy in the long run. I’m only torturing myself by seeing Brent, sleeping with him, and being in love with him—all the while knowing that he doesn’t remember the love we shared.

  The screen of my phone goes dark. Even that inanimate object knows I am not hanging in there. My stomach is twisted in knots. It feels like my heart is aching with every breath. My eyes are swollen and red from crying so much.

  No, I can’t keep going like this.

  Breaking it off with him is the only solution.

  Oh, God... I fall down onto the bed, shaking, hot and desperate tears only a breath away.

  When Brent disappeared the first time, my world ended. I stopped going out, I stopped seeing my friends, and I stopped thinking about the future. I stopped everything except breathing. To me, I had no future without Brent.

  Now, I was contemplating going through the same thing again. Only this time, it would be my choice. I was about to break my own heart.