Back From Hell (Marine For You Book 2) (Contemporary Military Veteran Romance)

by Marissa Dobson

  “I know you better than I knew Kate when she moved in with me. Same thing about anyone else who could move in as a roommate. So why would he have a problem with it? My mother, on the other hand, would have a fit but she has one over just about everything I do. She wanted me to become a vet like her. When I told her what I wanted to do she couldn’t believe it. She hates the idea of me buying the ranch someday.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s not the point. I’m an adult, and who I choose to have in my home is my business.”

  That was the feisty side of her that he was beginning to like. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but what are your two conditions?”

  “The first is easy: you must hand over your sidearm. I’ve got a small safe in my room that we’ll put it in. It’s for your protection. I don’t want those thoughts you had before to return and you act on them. Suicide is not the answer. We’ll get through this, together.”

  “Taking a Marine’s sidearm is like taking his arm.” The words came out before he had time to think about what he was saying; as they sank in, he looked down at his body and chuckled. “I guess since I’ve lost an arm already, it’s nothing.”

  “Do you realize what just happened?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “You forgot, even if only for a nanosecond, that you lost your arm. You were even able to make a smart remark about it once you remembered. That’s an improvement over referring to yourself as a cripple.”

  “If you can’t laugh at yourself, who can? Plus, I think I’ve got enough material for a standup comedy act. Now what’s your second condition?” The first one wasn’t too bad and he might actually consider it, even just to get out of this hotel room with the pale white walls and hard-as-a-rock bed. He had slept in softer ditches than that bed.

  “You must go to PT. I can help you at home with your prosthesis but I don’t have the equipment that is needed to get you started. You’ll start out learning to stand on it using the parallel bars. That’s the first step. I know you’ve been fitted for it but haven’t actually participated in any therapy using it.”

  “I cancelled this week’s appointments.” He admitted. “I just didn’t feel like it was worth wasting their time if I was only going to…” He trailed off before mentioning suicide again.

  “Well, not anymore. You’ll go, and we’ll have you walking again in no time.”

  “Besides the bars, what should I expect?” He hated the unease and nervousness in his voice. Fear of the unknown had been one of the reasons he had cancelled the PT appointments.

  “Every physical therapist is different regarding how they want you to start. For me, I normally start with the parallel bars. They are designed to help you get used to putting weight on your prosthesis and they can make a person more comfortable with their new limb. With your partial loss of arm on that side as well, I’d raise the bars so that at first you’ll be supporting yourself by your armpits, sort of like crutches, and have you get used to it. This way you wouldn’t have all your weight on one side.”

  “Sounds like a bitch.” Though it was a lot less complicated than his mind had created. He had expected to be stuck in the wheelchair for months while he learned to get around on the prosthesis.

  “It’s not that bad and the important thing is, you’ll be walking again in no time. After you get used to having weight on the prosthesis, you’ll progress to slow walking, using the bars for support. When you’re ready, you’ll practice walking. Some choose to use the aid of a cane at first while others don’t need it.” They sat there in silence for a moment before she added, “I don’t know the details of your situation but a below the knee amputation that is healing well could allow for you to be up and walking in a week. Everyone is different but it all depends on your strength and how much you want it.”

  “Trust me. I want out of this chair bad.” Even as he said this, he knew it was true. Crazy that he had cancelled the appointments when he wanted to be able to move about again with the ease of two legs. Even if one is fake.

  “That will help. Your burns are mostly healed now, but because of them you were stuck in the hospital longer. Otherwise, you’d have already been up walking around.” She smiled at him. “See, you were worried for nothing. So will you keep your next appointment?”

  “I will.” He realized his moods were like a pendulum, swinging back and forth. Except for him, it was from high to low and the lows seemed to last longer than the highs. An hour before he had wanted to kill himself; now he was making plans for Monday and it was only Saturday.

  “So what do you say about coming home with me?”

  “I say you’re nuts.” He chuckled. “You have no idea what you’re inviting into your home.”

  “I know you’re capable of a lot of things, but I don’t think you’ll hurt me.”

  “Not intentionally.” He couldn’t keep the sadness out of his voice, but what scared him the most about staying at her place was the fact she could get hurt because of him. If she came to him in the midst of one of his dreams, he could lash out without realizing until it was too late.

  “Are you having nightmares? Flashbacks?” Her back stiffened as if she was suddenly uncomfortable.

  “Rethinking your offer?” He teased.

  “No, the offer stands, as does the question.”

  “Nightmares come and go. So if I’m going to come then we need to set up boundaries.” He ran his hand down the arm of the chair and refused to look at her. “If you hear me…dreaming….you stay the hell away from me. I won’t have you getting hurt because I didn’t know it was you.”

  “Don’t worry, I know all too well.” Before he could ask, she explained, “Dad had only been back on the ranch a few days when one of our mares was giving birth. It was dark but I had snuck out to check on her, because I knew she was due any day. When I got to the barn, I found out something was wrong. I learned later that what I had heard wasn’t just from her giving birth. I rushed into the house and to Dad’s bedroom. He freaked out when I woke him.” Her shoulders slumped and leaned back against the chair, almost as if deflated.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I just realized that was the start of the breakdown. It was the first of the tumbling blocks that came falling down. Less than a month later he was dead.”

  Before he could stop himself, he scooted his chair closer to her and took her hand in his. “I’m truly sorry for your loss, but you have to know that what happened wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know it.” The tears in her eyes glistened as she tried to give him a smile that fell flat. “I do, but sometimes it’s hard to remember that. If only someone had been there to help him. If PTSD hadn’t been treated like some dark secret, maybe he’d still be alive.”

  “The war in Iraq and Afghanistan has brought attention to PTSD like never before but a person still needs to seek the help. It’s like an alcoholic. The people around him can try to get him to stop drinking but until he’s ready it won’t help. They have to hit rock bottom in order to accept what is being offered.”

  “You speak as if from experience.”

  He was but he didn’t know where to start to explain it to her. Would he talk about his parents first? Or himself, his own life? Could he speak of one without the other? He decided he didn’t want to go down the path to the past. “When I was at the hospital I wanted nothing to do with any of it but being here, cooped up in this hotel room, something changed. For the last week I’ve sat by this window watching the people go about their lives and I’ve missed that feeling of being one of them—among them. I’ve never been the life of the party, or even someone who enjoyed being around crowds, but I’ve never been so lonely in all my life.”

  “We can change that.” She placed her other hand on top of his. “You’re not alone, and I’ll help in any way I can.”

  5

  Chapter Five

  Staci wasn’t sure what had possessed her to invite him to come stay with her, but the offer stood. She wanted to help him, but she
also wanted to get to know him better. Something about him intrigued her and she wanted to explore it. The hours passed as they sat there in his hotel room just talking. Nothing as deep as their previous conversations, but just getting to know each other as two people instead of as a wounded Marine and a volunteer college student. They bonded over tales of their childhood, their hopes and dreams.

  Sometime during their conversations, he had talked her into sitting on the bed because the only chair in the room was as hard as sitting on concrete. She leaned back on the bed and yawned. It had grown late but she wasn’t leaving him unless he threw her out. Next time those thoughts came, he might not have the strength to shut the drawer on the gun and she wasn’t about to lose him.

  “You should go home and get some rest.” He tried again.

  “Not until you agree to come with me.”

  “I told you I want you to think about your offer before we make any agreements. That means you need to go home and sleep. Tomorrow…” He glanced at the clock and they both realized it was well after midnight. “Well, I guess later today, we’ll discuss it again.”

  “Nothing’s going to change so you might as well come with me. Otherwise you’re stuck with me until the sun comes up.” She was glad she didn’t have any classes tomorrow so she could sleep during the day. Either way, she wasn’t leaving him. He had admitted that once it got dark it was harder to push the thoughts of suicide away.

  “I’m not going to do anything stupid, so you can go home with a clear mind.”

  “Like I said, unless you’re kicking me out, you’re stuck with me.” She forced her eyes open and considered getting up for another cup of coffee but that seemed like too much work.

  “Then at least get some sleep. You’re exhausted.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Just close your eyes and sleep. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t do anything. I wouldn’t leave you to find my body when you woke. I’m…injured not stupid.”

  Knowing he had almost said crippled instead of injured, she raised an eyebrow at him. “Close call there.”

  “I’m learning.” He smirked. “Now, who said you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks?”

  She wanted to throw him a snippy comeback but her brain seemed to be on strike. “Sorry, I’m not the best company. Between my classes, work, and the hospital, most nights I fall into bed exhausted. But that’s all about to change.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “When I first moved here to start college, I took a position at a doctor’s office as an office assistant. Well, Friday was my last day working there. Starting Monday I’ll work from home, doing the billing and bookkeeping. I’ll have more work than I did in the office but I’ll be able to work my own hours and at my own pace, no interruptions.”

  He eyed her for a moment. “How old are you?”

  To get a better look at him, she turned onto her side and adjusted the pillow under her head. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady her age? Second, that question came out of the blue.”

  “Not completely out of the blue. You mentioned college and it got me thinking. You’re about to finish your Masters in Physical Therapy, but you don’t look old enough.”

  “Mom wasn’t very pleased with the schools in our area so she homeschooled me. The benefit of that was I finished earlier than my peers. She also enrolled me in college classes when I was still in high school. So, when I actually started college I already had credits coming with me. After my first semester I realized things were slower than I was used to and doubled my class load. I’ve been able to complete my degrees in half the time. But, to answer your question, I just turned twenty last month.”

  “Before you ask, I’m twenty-one and as for your other question, foster care taught me to ask what I needed to know, otherwise I’d never find out.”

  “Huh?”

  “As a foster child you’re overlooked so if you have a question, you just ask it. I never worried about being rude because I was never there long enough. Tossed around like an unwanted dog for most of my life, I’ve never worried about upsetting people. The Marines were the first time I had any real structure.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but there was a twinge of sadness to it. “Everyone has something they’d rather forget and that’s mine.”

  “That explains why you didn’t have family visiting…” She reached up and covered her mouth. “I shouldn’t have said that. Lack of sleep is messing with my brain and I’m saying things before I think them through. It was rude and I apologize.”

  “It’s the truth and there’s no reason to be sorry. You’re right, it’s just me. The friends I’ve made in the military have even disappeared, but who can blame them. No one wants to face what might happen to them. We all know the possibilities but no one needs to see that horror before them. I’m alone.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Everyone leaves eventually.” He mumbled without meeting her gaze.

  “Not everyone and not me.” Her eyes fluttered shut and as much as she tried to pry them back open, they wouldn’t cooperate.

  A blanket was pulled over her, covering her in warmth. She wanted to thank him, but the words died on her tongue. Before sleep wrapped its arms around her and pulled her into its embrace, she realized one thing. Some time since she met Kyle, her desire changed from being there to help someone in memory of her father to wanting to be there for him. She was beginning to care about him, far more than she cared about anyone else before.

  * * *

  The night had passed without any issues and now the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. Kyle spent the night trying to immerse himself in a book he had picked up, but all he could think about was the woman lying in his bed. She was beautiful, emitting a peaceful glow as she slept.

  He needed to keep his thoughts about her in check. Letting his mind wonder what her lips tasted like, or how she would feel pressed against his body, would get him nowhere. She deserved better than him. She deserved a whole man, not someone that couldn’t even hold her properly. A few months ago, he’d have made a move and she wouldn’t have been sleeping alone now. But back then, he wouldn’t have even known her—wouldn’t have had a reason to. Life threw curve ball after curve ball at him and he had no choice but to roll with it.

  A soft moan escaped her lips as she stretched and woke up. “You haven’t been sitting there all night, have you?”

  He sat the book aside. “Someone fell asleep in my bed.”

  “It’s huge. You could have joined me.”

  “That wouldn’t have been a very gentlemanly thing to do. I hope you slept well and now that you’re up, I’ll order breakfast from room service.”

  “Coffee’s fine for me.” She scooted up in the bed. “You really should have either woke me or come to bed. There was plenty of room. You need rest too if you’re going to take on physical therapy this week.”

  “Nice reminder thrown in there, but don’t worry, I haven’t changed my mind.”

  “Then have you considered my other suggestion?”

  “Moving in with you?” He wheeled over to the coffee pot and set it to brew. “I have and I’ve decided that if your offer still stands I will rent your second bedroom. I should have been looking for a place to stay since I left the hospital, but I haven’t left this room. Today, that’s going to change.” It was going to change, but he wasn’t sure for how long. His moods had been all over the place since he returned from overseas. One minute he was feeling completely hopeless wanting to end things and hours later, he was determined to make the most of his second chance at life. It was an endless battle but, at the moment, one he was determined to win.

  “Very well, but my requirements still stand. I want your gun.”

  He nodded to the nightstand. “My sidearm is in there.” Weapons became a part of him since he joined the Marines; they’d kept him safe, but he was willing to let her keep the gun for the tim
e being. Not because he thought he’d actually use the weapon, but because having it out of his hands would make her feel safer. If he was going to kill himself, there were other ways.

  “How did you get it anyways?”

  “I purchased it and a bottle of whiskey the day I was discharged from the hospital. I had plans to use it that night, but as you can see, I didn’t.”

  “Did the whiskey get you drunk and save your life?”

  “No, the whiskey remained untouched.” It was those whiskey brown eyes of yours that saved me that night. I couldn’t get them out of my thoughts. The sadness that showed in them as if you were already disappointed in me.

  She pulled out the nightstand drawer and reached for the holstered gun. “What’s this?” She held up his new rank insignia with the chevron and the two crossed rifles below it.

  The morning he had been discharged from the hospital, he had been promoted to Lance Corporal. He had shoved the insignia away in the drawer and tried to forget about it. He didn’t feel like he deserved the position and the haunting memory that Weber should have been promoted then as well only made things that much harder to accept.

  “You’ve been promoted? You’re a…” She looked down at the badge again. “Sorry, I’m not sure what comes after PFC. A Sergeant?”

  “Lance Corporal,” he supplied. “It was in the works before my injuries, but came through the morning I left the hospital.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Joy. Maybe we should crack open that bottle of whiskey and celebrate.” He tipped his head toward the drawer where the alcohol was also stashed. Everything close at hand so that, if he ever gave up, he could find comfort with them.

  “I think not.” She took the weapon and the whiskey and shoved them into the bag she’d tossed on the bed. “But we can celebrate in another way. We’ll pack your stuff up and head over to my place. I’ll shower, and then make us a delicious meal. No room service or takeaway. Then we’ll spend the day watching movies and eating popcorn, because tomorrow I’m dropping you off at the hospital and we’re going to get you back on your feet.”