Help Our Heroes: A Military Charity Anthology

by T. L. Wainwright

  “Like I said, fine. Ask and I’ll give you an honest answer.” I rub my eyes in an effort to take away some of the burning from the lack of sleep.

  “Chopper. He hasn’t been on your mind in a longing matter?” Lochlan quirks an eyebrow. “I don’t mean ‘I need to find him and give the fucker a piece of my mind.’ I’m talking about ‘I miss and wish how things went different, give him a shot’ kinda longing.”

  There’s a lump as big as Mount Everest in my throat that prevents me from answering his question.

  I must have a panicked expression on my face because his face softens and he steps forward. “Just be honest, Ivy. I’m not going to haul you over my shoulder and lock you up in his room.”

  “No,” I squeak. And with that, it’s Lochlan’s face who shows slight panic.

  “No, no…I was referring to the lock me up thing. I did think about him. Every damn day, it’s so frustrating. I’ve had a crush on him ever since we were teenagers and then it came back again when I saw him at Arthur’s funeral. Then we end up in bed together and it’s amazing and the idiot leaves and you…you idiot, standing in my kitchen and it’s all complicated and weird because I miss him so much and I don’t need it with my line of work and the long hours and I can’t sleep and it’s making me itch and he took away all my dicks and,” I’m stopped from mouth diarrhea when Lochlan slams his hand over my mouth.

  “For the love of all that is holy and dipped in hell, please woman…shut the fuck up. You’re just as off balance as Chopper.” Lochlan sighs and steps back. “He’s been off balance ever since that shit happened with your brother. That shook us all up, don’t get me wrong, but I’m betting the fucker is loaded with guilt. The two involved in the jump incident where Chopper got his legs shattered were your brother and him. It doesn’t take Einstein to figure out it could have easily been your brother who could have been medically discharged and him being killed. Add you in the fucking mix of things…and the shit he’s seen during his time as a SEAL…yeah, the PTSD hit hard for him over the years. But you have to be in it, Ivy…I’m giving you an out because he’s not all roses and sunshine, but you get the load of luggage he’s carrying too.”

  “Post-traumatic stress disorder is real. Don’t you think I know that?” Anger fills my veins. Who does he think he is throwing that at? Like I’m an idiot who doesn’t know a thing about Chopper. Okay, I might not know him through and through, but from what I have seen about him, lusted after him…hell, he’s been the reason I bought my first fake dick. And to throw up a discussion about his PTSD like I’m a kid who needs instructions. Freaking idiot. “It’s a serious medical condition. But he needs to reach out, he needs to develop new skills to handle it, to overcome and move on…to cope. I’m not walking away because he has PTSD. Hell, no.”

  “So, you’re walking away?” His voice rumbles in my face as if he’s trying to scare me off some more.

  Tough luck, I’ve had a hell of a shift and this feels like an awesome way to blow off some steam. “No, you overblown, insensitive asshole of a man. I’m not afraid to walk away, but I’m not going to run after him either. Any relationship needs to be built. Either from scratch with a solid foundation, or eased into. As for PTSD…it’s a gradual, ongoing process. I know damn well it doesn’t magically disappear overnight, and will flare up like they did with triggers. Hell, the memories will never disappear completely.”

  “Dandy,” he cuts me off. “Seeing as we’re on the same side…let’s get you inked and then you need to come to the clubhouse because he’s locked himself in his room. He won’t go out and he needs,”

  “That idiot,” I seethe. “Let me guess…he’s still got the stitches in, right? Or did he remove them himself?”

  “I have no clue. That’s why I’m here. Because he might open up when you knock on his door. Yeah, I could break down his door but that might not go so well because he’s got a temper. Let’s just say that the last time I tried to get him to go outside ended with him throwing stuff at my head.” Lochlan cringes.

  “Fine. I sigh. Let’s do this. I’m already past my need for sleep so let’s get that tattoo over with and then I can get to slap Chopper around. Right?” I’ve already got my arms tattooed with different flower vines. What’s another tiny one added to the mix? Besides…all my ink has meaning and I’ve known Chopper for a long period of time. I have no problem with adding something personal that resembles him. I can just squeeze it in somewhere.

  Lochlan steps to the door and lets a woman inside that’s got a case with her and is followed by two other guys. One of them is the guy, Deeds, with the inked arms I met at the hospital two weeks ago.

  “Hi, I’m Lips. Come on, let’s chat.” The woman with the dirty blonde hair gives me a warm smile, making me feel like I just gained a new friend.

  I meet a lot of people in my line of work, and most times at the worst moment in their lives. So, you might say I have some angle in knowing people. This feels right. I know it’s fast and some may judge me, but I’ve known Chopper and Lochlan for many years in the past and I’ve heard a lot of stories from Arthur about those two. I can honestly say I think they are good people. So yes…let’s do this.

  Chapter 13

  ***Chopper***

  Finally. For the last two weeks I’ve been tracking down that Tuck fucker. He’s been MIA ever since he drove off when he was watching Ivy’s apartment. Not that I have him right now, but I have a solid lead. All I could do was lay down and let my leg heal. Well, that and retreat into my safety zone, shutting out all outer influences and keeping to myself. I took that time to retrace his steps, view every angle of video there was until it led me to a nameless town where he just disappeared.

  So that’s where I’m heading, to that town to check it out. Or maybe I need to hack into the system and check on some police or hospital reports first so I can…Fuck. Who the hell is knocking on my door? I’ve told Lochlan to keep everyone away, I don’t need anything. What I do need is to solve this Tuck, stalker thing for Ivy so I can, or maybe, nah…I screwed that up.

  “Stop fucking knocking. I’m not going to open anyway,” I grumble.

  “Chopper.” My damn heart skips a beat from the sound of Ivy’s voice saying my name. She’s here? “Don’t be a dick and open this door right now. Did you rip those stitches out yourself? Because then I’ll really kick your ass, you thick headed, annoying, ignorant man.”

  My hands curl around the handle automatically and open the door. “If you’re only here to take out those stitches, then feel free to leave.”

  “Oh?” She’s got surprise and mischief bouncing off her gorgeous face.

  And for fuck’s sake, why did I say something like that? I mean, did I expect her to come here and throw herself at me to ask me to marry her or something? I could hit myself in the damn face. I want her and yet I’m absolutely selfish because she deserves a person who’s whole and not…

  “Hey, we were talking, so focus on me and don’t drift off in your head.” Ivy pokes an accusing finger in my chest and strolls past me.

  I close the door behind her and glance around my room, cringing at the lousy state.

  “If we’re going to have this thing where you call me your ol’lady…we clearly need to have a heart to heart about a few things.” Ivy grabs the pizza boxes off the bed and places them on the table.

  Yeah, I’ve been in bed since I’ve left her house and did nothing but kill time tracking Tuck and tearing his life to pieces, letting my leg heal in the process.

  “I’m not normally like that,” I grumble in my own defense.

  “Well that’s good to know. Now get your ass on the bed and let me look at your leg. Then we’re going to have a long talk.” She puts her tiny fists on her hips as if she’s going to drag my massive ass on there if I deny her wishes.

  The corner of my mouth twitches. I hate hospitals, hate doctors, all because the reminders and what I’ve been through and yet this woman is a doctor. She broke through my fucked-up
brain when I was in the hospital last time and somehow, she’s the only one I’m willing to have a look at my leg. Because she wasn’t wrong when she asked if I already took out the stitches myself.

  I was planning to do so today. I’m not a total idiot and know these things need to come out or else they’re gonna get infected. But no way in hell was I gonna go to the clinic, or hospital, for that matter.

  “Fine,” I grumble and shove my pants down before I sit on the mattress.

  Ivy grabs a chair and drags it closer to the bed. She takes her medical kit and lays shit down before she stalks off to the bathroom. When she returns I feel the need to say something and yet I have no clue where to start. So instead I close my eyes and try to relax.

  The antiseptic enters my nose and the sound of gloves, all of it a recollection of getting ready to do medical stuff. My breathing picks up and my stomach rolls. Sweat starts to build like the nausea that overtakes me. I need to leave. I can’t, it’s…

  “Hey,” Ivy snaps and her breath strokes my face. Her scent reminds me of a flowery embrace, and yet not overwhelmingly thick. My eyes fly open the moment it hits me. It’s just her, nothing or nobody else. I’m in my own fucking room. I have the use of my legs and no fucking pain. Well…not in my legs anyway.

  “I’m right here, Chopper. Are you?” She gives me a stunning smile that has an amazingly relaxing effect more than any medicine I know of. “Can you let me near your body with some surgical scissors and some tweezers?”

  “That depends,” I croak. “Are you sure that’s what you need?”

  She snorts adorably and rolls her eyes. “Trust me, I’m the doctor,” Ivy states and realization washes over her. I can tell by the look on her face and the way she’s biting her lip that she regrets telling me those words.

  Because I don’t…trust anyone for that matter. Some on a high level, like Lochlan and my other brothers, others? Her?

  My fingers wrap around her wrist where her bracelet is with that same line ‘Trust me, I’m the doctor.’ “I do,” I tell her, shocking myself and yet deep down I know it’s the truth. “Or at least my body does. Back at the hospital I let you, and I wouldn’t have stepped up like that. Or hell…fucked up like that.” Dammit I’m not making any sense.

  I was sweating, heartbeat haywire and out of breath a moment ago where nausea ruled my body and yet there’s anger rolling through my body because I have no fucking clue what to do and it’s all so fucking frustrating.

  “Have you been through therapy, or had help in any way when you were medically discharged, or in the years after?” Ivy gently takes my leg in her glove covered hand. “Oh, and lie still, I’m going to get those stitches out but we’re going to talk while I’m doing it, okay?”

  Her voice is soothing and I surprise myself yet again when I say, “I did. As all of us had at some point. It’s just that...” I sigh and shut down the door that’s called; opening up to people.

  “Right. That’s good. And I’m assuming Lochlan and those other guys who wear those leather vests are your support team. You’re all there for each other, right?” Ivy doesn’t look at me but is purely focused on doing her job.

  It’s not like she’s prying or demanding I rip out my heart or brain and dissect it for her. “Yeah. Pumping iron is also something I use to blow off steam, it’s…”

  “Now that’s something that shows.” Her magnificent eyes hit mine and she fucking wiggles her eyebrows, making my mouth dry and I have to cough to mask a chuckle.

  This reminds me yet again that I want her. I’ve been holding off with getting inked because I’m a selfish bastard and she deserves so much more. Something inside me wanted to let her off the hook and yet even the mere thought makes all the air rush out of my lungs. I need her. Her personality, her background, her connection. It’s fucking everything, and if I let her go, there’s no chance in hell I could ever find someone that will come even close to a person who can make me whole or make me feel worthy.

  “You’re fucking gorgeous.” Wait, was that my voice? I’m a damn idiot. I can’t even get my brain to function when I decide to take a step forward and seduce her, grovel, make her see I’m an asshole and then ask her to give me a shot…give us a shot.

  She falls into a fit of full blown laughter.

  Great. Can I fuck up even more?

  Ivy catches her breath and rolls up her sleeve. Glancing toward her arm I see her new ink. As if I’m being hit full-frontal, something inside me shatters. An utter feeling of relief and a truckload of other feelings wash over me.

  Her hands are cupping my face the next instant. “Hey.” Her voice is filled with concern. “Shit. Don’t cry.”

  Don’t cry? What the fuck is she talking about? My eyes are burning but there’s no way…I never cry. But I’ve also never…fuck…she’s got…I glance down again. Ivy’s hands fall from my face and I rub my own eyes because my sight is blurry. Wetness. I am fucking crying. It’s her. She’s managed to pierce through everything and hit me straight in the heart, allowing my feelings for her the room to flow and reach out. She’s mine.

  “When did you get it? How? This…it’s…” Fucking words, when can they ever get in line when they need to?

  “I’ve had a talk with Lochlan a few hours ago and he brought Lips over too. And if I had to get inked, it had to merge it with my other ink but also…” Now she’s the one filling up with tears. Fuck we’re a pair.

  “Your brother…” I murmur and gently stroke her arm. “In Flanders Fields…the war poem he had on a piece of paper…always carrying it with him…fuck.”

  She’s got the Broken Deeds patch with my name inked. But the round, red, distorted patch is the shape of a poppy. There are green vines around so it merges with her other ink and yet it stands out.

  “Magnificent,” I say in awe. And it is.

  Chapter 14

  ***Ivy***

  Unbeliveable. That’s what it is. When I finished my shift this morning I would have never believed I would end up in Chopper’s bed hours later. Yet I am. I’ve dozed off twice already.

  After I removed his stitches and he saw my new tattoo, we crawled into bed and just cuddled without saying anything. When I saw the Broken Deeds patch I asked Lips if she could ink it in the shape of a poppy. Chopper was right, my brother loved that poem and I wanted the double reminder. Chopper and Arthur were friends since an early age, so if it wasn’t for Arthur, I never would have known Chopper.

  In the last few weeks, both Chopper and Arthur have been on my mind. Memories and moments of both of them flow through my head, but it was one thing Arthur mentioned to me years back that hit me the hardest. Because I didn’t know back then who it was about…Arthur told me an accident happened during a training jump and that he blamed himself. Guilt ate at him, but he never gave me anything more than ‘it should have been me, he could have died and yet it damaged his legs and he might never walk again.’

  He never said it was Chopper but I put it together and it suddenly made sense. I bet Chopper feels the same guilt. Hell, it made me understand even more why he needed the space and left that morning. Even if he left Lochlan behind. Although all of that is in the past now. I mentioned it to Chopper and that lead to heavy conversation that ripped open both of our hearts and bared our feelings.

  I could tell how hard it was for him to discuss it and hear Arthur’s side…well, from the things my brother shared with me. After that Chopper pulled me down on the bed, putting us in a comfortable position, snuggled close to each other. Just the intense comfort of two people giving, without any expectations, dilemmas, or obligations in return.

  We have a strong connection that was founded years ago where we each walked a path that crossed at the right time in our lives. I have no clue where it all will go but when it feels like you’re bound in some way and life keeps throwing you at each other…it’s enough to take the hint. This feels right.

  We’re far from perfect and maybe we never will be, but that’s okay. Nobody is p
erfect and we all have flaws and scars. It’s just what you’re willing to accept and work with. The love you build together can have cracks and yet be strong enough to mend and heal to grow stronger over time.

  “Are you hungry?” Chopper asks.

  “Why? Do you have some leftover pizza from a few days ago you’re gonna offer me if I say yes?” I mutter.

  His laughter rumbles inside his chest and makes my insides go weak. My head is resting on his pecs where the sound and vibrations make it much more intense.

  “I wouldn’t dare.” He places his finger underneath my chin and angles my head so our gazes lock. “I would order new ones.”

  “You know as a doctor I would advise to have more variety of food,” I tell him with a stern voice.

  “Let’s just agree that when I have you in my bed, I’m the one who’s always right. You might be the doctor,” he taps on my bracelet I bought for myself as a mental boost a few months ago, “but I’m the one you can trust.” His face turns serious before he adds, “I’ve screwed up, I know. It’s hard for me to open up and trust people.”

  I can tell he’s struggling with words and opening up, yet we have oceans of time ahead of us. And he opened up a hell of a lot a moment ago. That right there shoots straight to my heart. “I’m thankful you’re giving me a shot. Well, I didn’t actually have a choice to start with.” I roll my eyes in an effort to lighten the mood.

  He pushes me on my back and looms over me. His face still has the seriousness engraved in it and yet his eyes twinkle in a way I haven’t noticed before. “My body and my brain didn’t give me a choice when you walked back into my life. You caught me off guard and wormed yourself in without the both of us knowing. So, Doc…is my leg cleared? Full use and all? Do I have the ability to fuck my woman against the wall and support both our weights, or would that be too much to start with?”

  My heart bounces around in my chest and tingles spread through my body at the mere thought of him…