Help Our Heroes: A Military Charity Anthology

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Help Our Heroes: A Military Charity Anthology Page 60

by T. L. Wainwright


  The click of the kettle snapped her back to the task at hand, and she set about making two cups of tea. “Milk and sugar?”

  Clark nodded. “Yes, please. Two sugars.”

  “Please, sit down.” She nodded towards the kitchen table. “Or should we go upstairs?”

  He quirked an eyebrow, and heat rushed to Cecelia’s face as the implications of what she’d just said sunk in. “I-I meant, with the flooding. Do we need to get onto the first floor in case the water starts coming in to the house?”

  With a chuckle, Clark shook his head and took a seat at the kitchen table. “I knew what you meant, and we’ll be fine here for now. With any luck, it won’t come in at all, but even if it does it won’t suddenly burst in in gallons—we’ll have some warning.”

  “Okay.” She finished making the drinks, then joined him at the table, placing his mug in front of him then cupping her hands around her own. The heat seeped into her chilled, soggy skin and she closed her eyes for a moment, letting a shiver run through her body, both at the cold and the thought of their narrow escape.

  “Hey,” Clark said, drawing her attention. She opened her eyes again. “Are you shivering?”

  Cecelia shrugged. “Yeah, a bit. I think it’s mostly shock. My waterproofs did the job pretty well, I’m just a bit damp around the edges.”

  “We need to get you out of those wet clothes,” he said, his blue eyes serious.

  Now it was her turn for some eyebrow-raising. “Yeah?” she quipped, her mouth and tongue seeming to jump into action with very little input from her brain. “And what about you? You were out in the storm for much longer than me.” Cecelia, you outrageous flirt. Is now really the time for this?

  Clark pursed his lips and took on a thoughtful expression. “I really ought to contact the others and give them a status update. Let them know we’re okay, but that we’re stuck here until tomorrow at least.”

  “And then what?” She took a sip of her tea, hoping like hell he was on the same wavelength as her.

  “Then,” his lips curved slowly into a grin, “we should both get out of our wet clothes. Get dry, then warm.”

  “And how do you propose we do that?” Seriously, Cecelia, what are you saying? Barely an hour ago, you were having palpitations about letting him into the house because you were worried he might be a serial killer. And now you’re talking in sexual innuendos!

  “Oh,” he said, his grin turning positively wicked, “I’m sure between us we can come up with something…”

  She gulped down more of her drink, giving herself a moment to compose her thoughts. But it proved impossible—the dirty smile he was aiming in her direction had turned her insides to mush and her brain into an organ that could focus on only one thing—getting him upstairs and naked, and the sexy fun that would follow.

  Everything else receded—the rain, the wind, the threat of flooding, their being cut off from the outside world. Abandoning her tea, she got to her feet and headed for the stairs, throwing over her shoulder, “You coming, then?”

  “I was serious about the call, but I’ll be right behind you.”

  “You’d better be.”

  He was.

  The End.

  Author Bio

  Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight and Mia’s Men (The Heiress’s Harem Book 1). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 160 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes.

  Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook.

  Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter and get a free eBook: http://www.subscribepage.com/lfnewsletter

  Hunter

  by

  S.M Phillips

  Blurb

  Hunter by name, Hunter by nature.

  He used to be fierce, strong, loyal. Now he’s damaged, broken and alone.

  Sixteen years have passed.

  Sixteen years spent blocking out bad memories and never-ending pain.

  Hunter Dawson focused his time on building a new life; a life where he could become a better person, and for the most part he was succeeding—until now.

  One letter.

  One letter is all it took to unravel everything he tried so hard to forget.

  Why now? Why, after all the years is he being asked to go back to a place which stole his soul and shattered the remaining pieces of his broken heart?

  Reader Warning…

  I hope you enjoy the beginning of Hunter’s story…

  Please note, this is just the beginning of his story and I have released the prologue and first two chapters solely for this Anthology.

  The remainder of Hunter’s story will be released later this year, and once the Anthology is no longer on sale. If you enjoyed it, please add it to your TBR, and please don’t shout at me when you get to the end??

  PROLOGUE

  HUNTER

  My eyes watch the flame flickering from side to side in the middle of the kitchen table, stealing my attention from what’s happening around me.

  “Hunter, eat your dinner before it gets cold.” Mummy says calmly as she pulls out a chair and takes the seat next to me.

  “I’m not hungry.” I reply as I move my fork around my plate. I refuse to meet her gaze, as I don’t want her to see the look of fear in my eyes—not when she looks so happy. I love it when mummy’s happy, but I know it won’t last for long. It never does, not when he comes around.

  “But you’ve hardly touched it. Is everything okay? Has something happened at school?”

  “No, school’s fine.” I reply truthfully. I love school. School is the only place I feel safe and I have my best friend Claire who always makes me happy when I get sad. I wish I could take mummy to school and keep her safe. I slowly raise my eyes to look at her and I smile. My mummy is very pretty, and she has long red hair and the brightest green eyes. Mummy smiles back at me and she has a lovely, kind smile especially for me.

  “Are you sure, baby?” She places her hand on my head and then messes with my hair and I laugh, and I quickly lean over and hold onto her tightly, frightened that if I let go she’ll be taken away from me forever, and I’ll never see her again.

  “I love you, mummy.” I muffle into her shoulder and inhale deeply, breathing in her floral scent.

  “I love you most.” She whispers. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed. Mummy’s got her friend coming over, and he’ll be here soon.”

  My whole body stiffens. I knew it. Mummy only ever wears make-up when her friend comes over. But he’s not very nice, or very friendly and I don’t know why mummy likes him so much.

  I don’t like him.

  He shouts too much and says bad words.

  I don’t say anything to him because I’m too scared.

  When he’s here I’m sent to my room, but I don’t want to go. I don’t like leaving my mummy alone with him.

  “Does he have to come over?” I say after a short while, and my voice cracks as I try not to cry. “He makes you sad mummy and upsets you all the time.”

  “Oh, Hunter,” mummy cups my chin in her hand and slowly tilts my head back, so she can look into my eyes—eyes that match hers and says, “sometimes grown -ups are silly and say things they don’t really mean, that’s all. You’re young sweetheart and you don’t need to worry about any of that.”

  ‘But I do, mummy.’ I think to myself. ‘I worry about you all the time.’

  One day, when I’m old enough, I’ll get a good job and take her out of this place. We’ll live in a happy house and I’ll look after her the way she deserves.

  CHAPTER ONE

>   HUNTER

  The rain hammers down against the windows as the ferocious wind whistles loudly and rattles the damaged roof above me, and it’s strong enough to rip the whole thing apart.

  The beautiful and unique sound of mother nature doing her thing used to be a welcome distraction, a comfort even when I was younger. It used to calm me and help me escape my surroundings.

  Surroundings I couldn’t control, but for a short while I could zone off and pretend none of it was happening, and that life didn’t truly exist. Man, I used to pretend I didn’t exist at all—life was so much easier that way.

  But that was then, and this is now, and I sit here in this small box of a room, all it does is awaken all kinds of memories…

  Memories I tried so hard to shut out and forget.

  Memories which won’t let up and leave me the hell alone.

  Why now?

  Why, after all these years does he insist on seeing me now?

  My hand twitches involuntarily and the letter, now scrunched up in my hand, falls to the ground and echoes all around me. A perfect demonstration of the emptiness of my damaged and broken soul.

  A sudden rage consumes me, and I jump up and throw my arm out before I can stop myself, and my fist connects with the old, shabby mirror which hangs on the wall in front of me.

  Pain shoots from my hand and begins to radiate up my arm, but I don’t really feel it. Pain is something I’m used to, and now it feels more like and unsated itch I can’t seem to get rid of.

  Fuck!

  I thought I was better than this.

  I slowly raise my eyes back up towards the mirror after assessing my bloody hand, and see it’s more than just cracked—it’s shattered into a million pieces.

  One letter.

  One fucking letter after years and years of silence, and this is what the mother fucker does to me.

  I don’t recognize the man looking back at me. Sure, he looks familiar—but there’s no denying he’s changed. He’s no longer the guy he used to be; the frightened little boy who was too scared to breathe out loud whenever he was home. Too scared his mom would suffer because this small boy was nothing but an unwanted inconvenience. Hell, I’d heard enough over the years to know exactly what the old man truly thought of me.

  No, the person staring back at me isn’t that boy any more. He’s aged some, and he sure as hell looks like he’s lived longer than his thirty-three years.

  His eyes are tired and crinkled a little at the edges—a mapped story of his troubled past, but he wears them with pride; a reminder of what he’s overcome. His eyes are a brilliant bright green, but they no longer hold the sparkle of innocence like they once did. Instead, they’re hard and cold, completely void of any emotion—the perfect eyes of a monster.

  These are the eyes of a man who has certainly made his fair share of mistakes, and then some. Many through no fault of his own, but when all’s said and done, does any of that even matter?

  Like fuck it does.

  I turn on the tap and allow the cold water to trickle and graze my knuckles as it slowly washes away the blood, and I look down again at the crumpled piece of paper on the floor, and I know the only time I’ll see that twisted son of a bitch again is in hell.

  I used to be fierce… strong…and loyal

  Now, I’m savage… broken… and alone.

  CHAPTER TWO

  HUNTER

  “I’m not leaving.” My voice is strong, and I mean every goddamn word, but he’s not having any of it. Well, tough shit, bud. It’s my fucking decision, and it’s been made.

  “Hunter…”

  I inhale slowly, trying to keep my resolve and look over to my buddy, Phoenix, and all I can do is shake my head at him. “I already told you. I’m not doing it, man. What’s the fucking point?”

  “Hey, I get that, really I do, but he obviously wants to see you for a reason.”

  No fucking shit. “Hell yeah, I bet he does. Probably so he can fuck my life up some more. You know, because my childhood wasn’t enough.”

  I spent years and years putting up with his bullshit because I didn’t have a choice back then. I was a kid. An innocent child, and one he made damn sure was to be seen and not heard.

  I can sense Phoenix watching me. Clearly concerned about my well-being and I don’t blame him because right now I’m so unpredictable—I’m like a mother fucking time bomb. But now isn’t the time to get into all that bullshit. We’ve got work to do.

  I think it’s safe to say my life hasn’t been a bed of roses, but shit happens and I’m sure there’s a hell of a lot of people who’d say the same.

  One thing I won’t do is sit back and pull my small violin out. I don’t need anyone’s pity and I sure as hell don’t dance along to anyone’s tune but my own.

  The bottom line is, life is hard, and I guess you’ve just got to handle the cards you’ve been dealt. Most of all, you need to be grateful you were dealt any to begin with.

  “Maybe he wants to put it all right?” Phoenix says after a few moments of awkward silence between us. He says it so quietly I almost didn’t catch it, and when I suddenly look up at him he refuses to meet my gaze. “All I’m saying is that people can change.”

  “Are you shitting me, right now?” I exclaim, my voice sharp and to the point as I struggle to reign in my emotions. I know there’s no point getting mad at him. It’s not his fault and I know he’s only trying to help, and even though he’s the closest thing to family that I’ve got, he still doesn’t know half of what that son of a bitch put me through. Hell, it’s probably for the best he doesn’t know because that kind of shit, once it’s out, it can’t be unsaid.

  “Hey man,” Phoenix holds his hands out in surrender, and his brown eyes and boyish face is full of concern, and I fucking hate myself for snapping at him. “I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret, is all.”

  Regret…

  The only thing I regret is not killing the mother fucker back when I had the chance.

  Usually, I’d listen to Phoenix. He’s a smart kid and he always means well, but there’s no way I’ll ever live to regret this. How could I?

  We’re talking about a man who went out of his way to ruin my life at every possible turn, and even then, that wasn’t enough for him. He utterly destroyed me, and any chance f happiness I ever had.

  So why the hell would I want to make him happy now?

  I look down at the SA80 which is laid out before me and I try to focus, but my minds on overdrive and it agitates the hell out of me. Usually, I’d be able to switch my unwanted thoughts off in an instant—totally shut them out. After years of practice I’ve mastered the art like the professional I am. But today, not so much.

  I’ve spent the past sixteen years doing everything within my power to erase the hidden demons of my past, to try to make something of myself. To prove I deserve this life, and more importantly to prove I deserve a life worth living.

  Of course, I’ve had my bad days. I’m still human after all, but only just. No matter what, I’ve always managed to pull through. This time though? I’m not so sure.

  A whole barricade of emotions have been unleashed, let loose to cause damage on the life I’ve worked so hard to build for myself so far.

  ‘I know I’m the last person you’d expect to hear from after all these years, but please hear me out. Allow me a chance to explain. Hunter, I really need to see you…’

  His words flutter in my minds eye and my hands grips the rifle, clenching so hard my veins in the back of my hand protrude profusely and begin to throb. I swear if I’d had this within my reach all those years ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice about using it.

  I’ve always had a good aim, possibly one of the best. One shot—that’s all it would have taken, and the mother fucker would be gone—finished.

  But then I guess that would have been too easy, and Lord knows I’m not lucky enough to get the easy ride.

  A feral laugh escapes me as I think about how my life
would have panned out so differently if he’d never been apart of it. I know nothing is certain or set in stone, but I’m pretty sure we would have been better off in every way possible.

  I know I’d be happy, there’s no doubt about it. I’d still have my mum. I know we would have had that beautiful bond a mother and son are supposed to have, and I know I would have made her proud. Jesus, there’s not a day goes by where I don’t stop and wonder if she’s proud of what I’ve achieved so far.

  When I ran, I put my heart and soul, everything I had left into my new role. I was a quick learner and discipline was my middle fucking name, and when I teamed that with my love of guns and machinery—hell, it was a no brainer.

  I quickly found my feet within my new regiment, and that’s when I first met Phoenix. I’ll never forget looking at him and wanting nothing more than to knock the fucker out. He was all legs and arms, not a single ounce of muscle on him, and he was a cocky, arrogant son of a bitch.

  After the first five minutes if being in his presence I had no choice but to take him under my wing and show him the ropes. He would have been beaten alive, hounded until he couldn’t take anymore, until he was nothing but an empty shell—until I stepped in. He’s been by my side ever since and I wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s had his fair share of being a complete prick over the years, but haven’t we all? I trust him indefinitely, something I haven’t really done before—well, with one exception…

  Claire…

  My breathing hitches and my chest tightens when I think about her. Something I haven’t allowed myself to do all that often since I turned my back on her and walked away.

 

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