Untamed (Irresistible Bachelors Book 9)

by Lauren Landish

  As bad as the first part of this story is, it was largely beyond my control. The next part? It’s my fuckup . . . all mine. I hope Ana can forgive this part.

  “So, when we were waiting in the hospital, I felt so useless. I couldn’t save Gabe, I couldn’t save his girl, I couldn’t save his baby. And I know that’s stupid. I was just a kid and none of it was my responsibility. But I felt this pressure deep inside, this need to do something. To make Gabe proud, help him, or maybe help some other family so they never had to go through this like we were. So I . . .” I gulp, not able to say the words that turned my path so sideways.

  Ana reaches out, touching my hand. I look to her, seeing that her eyes are soft and teary, waiting and ready for whatever I’m going to say without judgment. I can’t hold her eyes when I say it, letting my gaze drop. “I enlisted.”

  “What? Aubrey, you were in the military? I had no idea!” Her shock is palpable, as real to me as the weight I’ve been carrying on my shoulders for so long.

  “I was. Did one tour. My parents were . . . less than thrilled. Actually, they tried to undo it, but I was eighteen and I’d already signed. They’d lost, or possibly lost, one son to the military and had no desire to risk their other. But I needed to do it for Gabe. We had a huge blowup fight because they didn’t understand, said I was being impulsive and stupid. They were probably right, but it was ugly, all of us taking our grief out on one another, unable to handle Gabe being MIA. We’ve never been okay since then, rarely talk, actually. Carlotta is the only family I interact with anymore.”

  Ana bites her lip. “I remember your family as so close-knit. When you disappeared that night, I tried to track you down, but your whole family was gone. No one knew what had happened. You just never came back, not for classes or graduation, and you never enrolled at Oregon. When a moving truck showed up to your house, the whole town was talking, and I interrogated the movers, but they didn’t know anything.”

  “Yeah, there was some Senator’s son who was all over the news about that time, so a military loss wasn’t exactly hot for the media. As for the house, that was over the summer, right? I was already gone by then. I think Dad just hired it out because Mom couldn’t go back to that house, said Gabe was in every wall and piece of furniture and she couldn’t bear to look at it all. As far as I know, they’ve never been back to Great Falls. I go as little as possible, just for work, mostly. Too many memories there.”

  Ana flinches at my words. “There are a lot of good memories there too, Aubrey,” Ana says softly.

  Flashes of memories overwhelm me . . . Gabe and me sledding down the big hill when we got fresh snow, my family watching fireworks on the fourth of July, camping in the backyard with Gabe when we were little and here in the mountains when we were older. There’s also Ana . . . our first date after I won the game for her, the way she’d light up every time she saw me in the hallways like she was surprised I was talking to her again, the fumbling way we’d learned about each other’s bodies, the intensity with which I loved her, sure and certain the way only an untested teenager can be.

  “I know, I just couldn’t go back. I did my four years, saw and did shit I never would’ve imagined, which sometimes made me feel closer to Gabe and sometimes made me feel even further away from the boy he knew and loved. I kept thinking he was going to pull some Rambo-style shit and come busting out of those mountains in a helicopter. Never happened, and eventually, they declared him Killed In Action. When I got out, I was lost in a dark hole, didn’t care about anything or anyone because the world just didn’t feel right without Gabe in it. So I bounced around a bit, ended up selling cars, something I never would’ve imagined. But I was decent at it, my lack-of-fucks-given attitude surprisingly coming across as no-nonsense, which put people at ease. But when I got the chance to buy this place, I jumped at it, escaping my job, escaping my past, escaping my life.”

  Ana lets out a surprised laugh, light and bright in the heaviness of the air. “A car salesman? I don’t mean to be rude, especially considering everything else you just said, but that’s definitely not something I ever thought you’d do.”

  I laugh a bit too, a welcome reprieve as the tension breaks.

  Ana shakes her head, sighing hollowly. “I can’t believe this, Aubrey. And I thought I went through hell. I wish I could’ve been there for you. I would have understood. I loved you.”

  I pick up a pebble and toss it into the pond, watching the ripples spread in the moonlight. “I should have told you, first thing. But after I waited too long, I didn’t want to ruin what we had with the person I’d become. I truly hoped you’d moved on and had a happy life, all the things we’d wanted and dreamed of, with someone able to give you that. Because I couldn’t.”

  She takes a deep breath and looks at me, her eyes filled with more than sadness but also hurt and anger. “All the ignoring in the world won’t make a heart heal faster . . . or an ankle,” Ana says. “Is that what you’re doing to yourself? Isolating yourself to take the pain inside and punish yourself?”

  “For a long time, I definitely did that. I distracted myself with work and pain.” The admission is a truth I hadn’t fully realized until it popped out of my mouth.

  “And now?”

  “I think I’m doing better now. Seeing you and being with you have given me a passion for life again. I want you, Ana. I want to be with you. I’ve been given a second chance, and I’m not going to let go this time. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen,” I say, strength and determination filling my voice.

  “But before I got here? Were you still stuck in the past or were you doing well? I think we both know the answer to that, Aubrey,” she says, and I can feel the distance between us even though we’re sitting inches away from each other.

  “Ana—”

  “I just . . . that’s a lot of pressure, Aubrey. I haven’t seen you for ten years, and now that I know what happened, I’m not as angry as I was. I understand, I do. But like we said, we’re different people now, and I don’t know if I’m this saving angel you want me to be. I’m not your Sweet Ana, the kind, giving, trusting girl who loved you with her whole heart.” Her voice has a tinge of sadness, the loss of that innocent girl apparent in her eyes.

  I shake my head. “But you are. You stepped right up to help with my ankle, saving me from my own stupidity. And I know you feel this too.” I take her hand, pressing it to my chest, letting her feel the steady thump of my heart, knowing that it beats for her. “My heart . . . it’s always been yours. You can’t tell me that’s not true for you too, that it’s not why you’re still alone.”

  “I just don’t know if that’s where I’m at yet. I want this. The little girl in me wants this so fucking bad, Aubrey. But a week ago, you didn’t want me here, then you wanted just casual, and now—” She’s holding up her fingers as she lists the supposed progression of my feelings, but I interrupt her.

  I grab her hand, locking my fingers through her raised ones and pressing them to the blanket as I push her down to her back, looming over her. My voice is hard, leaving no doubt. “I never wanted casual. From the moment I saw you, I was all in, scared as fuck that you’d run, and fighting my instincts to lock you in my cabin and never let you leave, force you to listen to me, and understand. To forgive me. I tried to be casual so I wouldn’t scare you.”

  Her eyes flash fire, but I don’t know what it is . . . anger, maybe? “I’m not scared of you.”

  I reward her, or maybe it’s punishment, I’m not sure, but I take her mouth, devouring her, needing to reassure myself that she’s still here, hasn’t run away yet after hearing what happened all those years ago. She kisses me back, her tongue fighting with mine, giving just as aggressively as I am. When she relaxes, the fight draining from her, I pull back slowly as I watch for signs she’s feigning. I press my forehead to hers, the puffs of our heated breaths mingling in the cold air around us.

  “See, Ana? It’s us. Nobody else does that to you, I know they don’t. It’s su
pposed to be us. It was always supposed to be us. I fucked it up, and I’m so sorry, but I swear, I’ll make it up to you.”

  She bites her lip, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes to run back into her hair as she shakes her head. “Aubrey, I need time. I gave you everything and you took ten years. You left me alone, confused, feeling like I wasn’t enough. After a while, I knew that something had happened, and I could’ve helped you, would’ve helped you with anything. But you didn’t let me. And now, you want me to just turn on a dime and bring back these emotions like no time has passed. I just . . . I need time. Please.”

  It’s the please that does it. Ana shouldn’t have to plead, not to me, not for anything. I sit back, letting her hands go after I help her sit up. “Okay. Time? Take whatever you need, Ana. Because I’m not going anywhere. I’m here . . . right here for you. And I’m not letting you go this time, not for anything.” It’s a promise, a new one. I don’t have a ring, but it’s just as serious of a commitment as the last promise I made her. And I intend to fulfill it, along with the previous one, however long it takes.

  Ana stands up, offering me her hand. “Can we go back? I think I’m going to stay with Trey and Brad tonight. I need to get my head on straight, do some thinking. Everything you’ve told me tonight . . . it’s a lot to process.”

  I take her hand, flipping it over to kiss her palm. “Do you know how to get back? I’d like to stay here a bit, maybe talk to Gabe.” I look over at the lake, a memory coming like a shockwave of the time we went fishing right over . . . there. A small smile hints at my lips as I remember how he’d told the story over and over again, the fish getting bigger every time.

  Ana looks skeptical, her eyebrows furrowed. “Are you sure you’re okay out here by yourself? I can get to the cabin just fine, but I don’t want to leave you if you’re upset.”

  “I’m fine, but like you said, it’s a lot. And it’s been a while since I’ve even thought about some of that stuff. Saying it was a first.” I give her a slight smile, hoping she sees the difference she’s made in me after such a short time. I know I was a grumpy asshole, more grunts than words, as Carlotta always reminded me. But tonight, I’ve spoken more words than in the ten years before combined, and each one was from my heart.

  As Ana walks away, making her way carefully back toward the cabins, I turn my face to the sky once again. “Hey, Gabe. How you doing, big brother?”

  Chapter 26

  Ana

  Climbing the porch steps to the rental cabin, I don’t hear much inside, but I knock just in case because I don’t want to interrupt Trey and Brad the way they did me and Aubrey.

  Brad grumbles as he opens the door, “Bitch, you are interrupting hot tub time so this had better be some good shit—” He stops abruptly when he sees the expression on my face. He immediately scoops me into his arms, pulling me inside. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

  I shake my head. “Brad, do you mind if I talk to my brother alone for a minute?”

  Brad’s worried by the look on his face, but he nods, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “I understand, honey. Listen, I’ll go hit the hot tub by myself, leave you and Trey alone. Just get me when you’re done.”

  I walk over to Trey, sagging down onto the couch as he scoots up next to me. “What’s going on?”

  “I had a talk with Aubrey. You know, that talk,” I say quietly before I tell Trey the whole story. It takes me awhile, and there’s more than once when I have to stop to wipe at my eyes. “I knew it had to be bad, and I had a lot of time to run over the possibilities, but it still caught me by surprise.”

  “Damn,” Trey says softly, opening his arms, and I curl up in them. It reminds me of when Aubrey left the first time and Trey held me plenty of times as I cried my heart out. “I guess everyone has their way of dealing with things. Maybe we should’ve pieced things together? At least had a clue? I don’t know, I never heard anything about Gabe. With Aubrey, there were dozens of rumors, so you never knew what was real and what was complete bullshit.”

  “Yeah, but none of the gossip said his family suffered an unbelievable tragedy and splintered into a thousand pieces,” I whisper.

  I think back, about my first year at college, how hard it was to get through it. I didn’t go to Oregon, couldn’t stomach it, even if I did check as many different campus groups and teams as I could find to see if Aubrey was listed as a member. All that time, I’d thought I’d had it so hard. But Aubrey . . . he’d been the one going through hell. But time did help a little bit.

  I hug Trey harder. “Jesus, Trey, why couldn’t he have told me? Why couldn’t I figure it out? I would’ve waited, would’ve supported him through whatever he needed to do.”

  Trey thinks, then clears his throat. “When I first realized I was gay, I felt so . . . alone, scared. I wanted to tell someone, but I couldn’t.”

  “You could have told me. I wouldn’t have judged you,” I reply, and Trey nods.

  “I know that now. But I’d be lying if I said there weren’t stupid fears keeping me from admitting it even to myself. I kept saying I was just looking for the right girl. I had to come to terms with myself before I could come to terms with the rest of the world. Some people are different. They just show their shit to the world and adjust on the fly, letting the whole world watch every step and misstep. I couldn’t, but I still loved you, even when I couldn’t say anything to you. Sometimes, you just need to find yourself first.”

  He hugs me again, stroking my back. “Is what I’m saying even making any sense? You going to be okay?”

  “It’s not quite the same, but I get what you’re saying. And I don’t know. I don’t know what to think,” I admit, pushing forward and sitting up more. “Should I take meeting Aubrey again as a sign that maybe we were meant to be together? Or has there just been too much time, too much pain? When I first got here, the answer was simple and I wanted to leave everything in the past. But then things were a little different as we talked and hung out. And tonight . . . I feel like the walls finally came tumbling down, and we were left naked and exposed, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough.”

  “You’re one of the strongest people I know. What makes you doubt that?”

  “Because he’s right. There are some wounds that you can’t heal. They change the landscape of your soul, making you different than you were before. And while Aubrey seems to be doing better, I’m not sure if he’s for real or if it’s just a reaction to a blast from the past, a chance to reset his path to the one he wanted before it went to hell in a handbasket. And I’m not sure I can fix it, even if I wanted to. I mean, look at us. We live in two different worlds, two different people. I’m a nurse who works down in town, and he’s a loner with a lot of baggage, hiding in the mountains. How do we have a future?”

  “I don’t know Ana. I’m just worried about you. I don’t want you to wind up hurt again. And honestly, I don’t know if you’d hurt more with him or without him.” He pauses and looks out the window at Aubrey’s cabin. “By what you’re telling me, Aubrey is a man with a lot of demons. I think you deal with enough of that at the hospital and don’t need to take that kind of weight on when you get home. But then I picture you without him, what that life could look like. You’ve been happy the last few years, truly happy. But could you be happier with him?”

  “I don’t know! I’m just so mad at him for not coming to me when we both know I could’ve helped him.”

  Trey strokes his chin and looks down at me, preparing me for a bit of sage wisdom. “Who are you to judge his way of dealing with a tragedy?” Trey says quietly. “Who knows how we would act if we were in his shoes? If I lost you . . . dear God, Ana, I don’t know what I’d do, and I’m thirty. How do you think I would have acted as a teenager?”

  I stop, wanting to protest, but I can’t argue. I really don’t know. “I guess you’re right. Still, I can’t help but think about what could’ve been.”

  “You just heard the truth,” Trey advises. “You didn’t expe
ct him to tell you and then just forgive and forget, did you? You had it right. You need to give it some time.”

  “So, what should I do?” I ask, afraid of the answer.

  Trey gets up, coming over to look me in the eye. “Besides letting it all sink in? What does your heart tell you?”

  I cross my arms, shivering as an invisible chill wind goes rippling down my spine. “My heart tells me that I still have feelings. But my mind tells me that this could end up being a bad thing for both of us. If it doesn’t work out, at least I have a support system. It’d destroy him . . . for good.”

  Trey nods. “I think so too. Ultimately, it’s your decision. But in my opinion, you did the right thing to tell him you need space to process your feelings. Who knows? In a day or two, you may be ready to talk things out and see where you are then.”

  I nod. “You’re right, and that’s what I told him. I’ll give us both space to process feelings and make sure we’re not saying things we don’t mean.”

  Trey nods, pulling me in for a hug. “Whatever you need, I’ll be here for you.”

  “I know,” I reply, hugging him back. “For now, though, I think what I need is to go to bed. Thank you. I love you, Trey.”

  Trey gives me a final big squeeze then punches me lightly in the shoulder. “Love you too.”

  The next morning dawns bright and clear, in distinct contrast to my mood. I’d lain in bed for hours last night, thoughts swirling like a tornado. Mostly, I’d cried for the boy I’d loved whose whole life got swept away at once, leaving him a man with scars peppering his mind and heart. But I’d slept eventually, deep and restful, my body exhausted after the mental calisthenics. Now, in the light of day, I feel a little better, cleansed maybe, after ten hours of uninterrupted sleep and a lot of processing.

  What I decided is that the past is the past and I can’t change it, which admittedly sounds a little ‘duh’ but was a hard thing to accept alone in the darkness last night. I’d spent way too much energy wishing I had a magic wand that I could wave around and change the terribly tragic things Aubrey went through and miraculously make them better and heal those scars. But I can’t. That’s not in my power. As for my past, while I’m angry at being left in the dark for so long, I’m going to have to let that disappointment go because wishing it wasn’t so won’t make that true either. Letting those feelings fester might even prolong this hurt, fresh and new to me even though it’s been ten years since it all happened.