Her Marine Next Door

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Her Marine Next Door Page 16

by Burke, Aliyah


  They’d get some ice cream, and she’d give him time to get his shit out. Or she’d do as she’d said. Do it for him.

  …

  “So you’re moving home. What does this mean for you and Gemma?” His father’s scowl had smoothed out.

  “Nothing.” Parker’s tone was low and unyielding. “We’re not a couple.”

  And he’d been moved home. Skylar had been true to her word and had dropped his things off. Not to mention she’d ignored him for two fucking days.

  Not a single one of his calls or texts had been answered. All of his attempts at going over there had amounted to nothing. Either she’d been gone or didn’t open the door. Hell, he wasn’t even lucky enough to see Alpin in the backyard.

  She’d gone ghost, and he’d be damn proud of her skills if it wasn’t him that she was hiding from. Sure, he still had a key, but he was desperately trying not to break in and be even more of a stalker than he was becoming.

  He was desperate to speak to her—let her see Gemma didn’t mean more to him than she did. He didn’t give a fuck about Gemma, other than how she had the ability to run off with his son. Something he had to figure out how to fix.

  Parker also had to confront Gemma about what she’d done to Skylar’s business. He hadn’t wanted to believe she’d stoop that low.

  He could admit he’d ignored it because of Cullen, but hearing what Gemma had done had pissed him off. Once his parents took Cullen away, at least for the day, he’d deal with her. This was going to get ugly.

  “You three are a family.” His mother pointed at him. “It’s time you start acting like one.”

  He shot her a scowl. “Let it go.”

  She flattened her lips and got up from the couch. “Give it time. You’ll see it’s all for the best. I’m going to share my famous lasagna recipe with Gemma.”

  Yeah, nothing subtle there. At all.

  “Spit it out, son.”

  “Nothing more to say. I fucked up.” He made sure his outburst hadn’t disturbed Cullen. The boy had been sullen and moody, opting to stay in his room most of the day. No running, laughter. Not even much talking. He shrugged and dragged his feet. Parker was thrilled he’d fallen asleep in his arms. And Cullen was still slumbering.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too.” Yet he wasn’t giving up.

  Silence descended, and he sat there holding his son while his dad watched the news. Occasional laughter from the kitchen reached him, and he ground his jaw. Gemma was putting on a show, and his mom was buying it.

  Hook. Line. And sinker.

  Skylar had warned him Gemma was desperate for more. How she was angling to become the true fiancée. He’d blown her off, thinking it was anger and jealousy speaking. Now he wasn’t sure…

  Cullen sniffed and whimpered before burrowing closer.

  “Mama.” His singular word led a soft puff of breath that brushed against his skin. The longing in his tone perfectly understood. They both missed the fuck out of her.

  “Shh.” He rubbed his back once more.

  “He’s gotten quiet. Remarkable change for just two days.”

  “I know.” “Remarkable” wasn’t the word he would use. “Disturbing” was more along the lines of his choice.

  It bothered him. Cullen had made such progress during his time here; to see this regression was heartbreaking. And it was sudden, like not seeing Skylar had instantly put him back to the scared, quiet boy he’d been before. As if he were scared of being too loud, being a boy.

  “Are you taking him to see anyone?”

  “No. I know what the issue is.” I just have to fix it.

  The women walked in carrying drinks. He narrowed his gaze on Gemma as she sat beside him and placed a beer down for him. Why the fuck was she wearing a diamond solitaire ring on her finger?

  Fuck no, he wasn’t taking part in this. Ignoring the beer, he rose, Cullen in his arms.

  “I’ll pass. Sir, Mom. Good night.” After waking Cullen, Parker sat him on the counter in the bathroom while the boy brushed his teeth.

  He moved some hair away from Cullen’s face. “How are you doing, C-Man?”

  His slender shoulders rose and fell. “Murray’s sad,” he said once he spat.

  “Why is Murray sad? How can I help?”

  Gemma appeared in the doorway, her left hand on the doorjamb allowing the light to shimmer off the ring. “Everything okay?”

  “We’re fine.” He stuffed away his anger at the woman, because now wasn’t the time for the confrontation. He had to see to his son first.

  Cullen wiped his mouth after rinsing and climbed down.

  “I’ll be in soon.”

  “Okay, Mommy.” He walked out, nothing about him screaming happy.

  Parker stood and drew up when she didn’t move. “What?”

  “We could be great together again, Parker.”

  “We aren’t anything, Gemma, and we won’t ever be.”

  Her smile was more of a threat. He didn’t appreciate that.

  “Move.”

  She did. Barely. Her sticky-sweet perfume curled his lip.

  Parker stepped in Cullen’s room. Per usual, his son held a conversation with the bear. One that stopped when he was noticed.

  “What’s going on with Murray?” He sat beside him. “How can we make him not be sad any longer?”

  Cullen sent a quick look to the door. “He misses Mama. And Alpin.” A heavy sigh. “And Mama.”

  Parker inched closer, his tone deliberately low. “You, too?”

  Cullen nodded, tears lingering in his big blue eyes. “Don’t tell Mommy.”

  His heart broke. What kind of kid begged his father not to tell his mom he was sad and missed someone he cared about?

  “It will be our secret.” He dipped his head. “Want to know something else?”

  “What?”

  “I miss her, too.”

  “We can get her back?”

  God, he hoped so. He needed her. “I will.”

  “Love you, Papa.”

  His heart melted. “Love you, too, C-Man.” He brushed a kiss over his forehead and one over Murray, because that was how Mama did it.

  Cullen gave him a sad smile and settled in his bed. “’Night, Mama,” he whispered. “Love you.”

  He choked up as he allowed himself a final caress over the boy’s head before walking out of the room.

  It didn’t get any better the following day. He was stressed all day long. Once his house was dark, Parker flopped on his bed with a groan, clad in nothing more than a pair of black warm-up pants that said “MARINES” down the right leg in gold. This was more stressful than dropping in behind enemy lines. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and tried to relax.

  He’d been called to the base today to meet with his commanding officer. While he was still officially on medical leave, he swore his CO could still control the time of day he took a leak if he wanted to. Leave or not, that man could say jump and he would ask how high.

  Cullen had been left with his parents as Gemma was gone—she’d be back tomorrow—but his boy was in one foul mood. Nothing would calm him down. Eventually, he told him to go to his room.

  Exhaling a long slow breath, he covered his eyes with one forearm and sighed.

  Rolling to his right side, he reached for his phone. He hesitated as he hovered over the call button for Skylar. God, just to hear her voice would be amazing. That seductive, slightly raspy voice that put fire in his blood without her intending to would surely be enough for him to find a peaceful path to sleep.

  He rubbed the heel of his palm over his rapidly thickening erection and groaned at the slight contact. His touch wasn’t what he wanted in any way, but it would do in a pinch. And right now, that’s what he was in.

  He we
nt to the bathroom and cleaned up after jacking off to yet another memory of Skylar and him, checked on his son once more, then stumbled back to bed and flopped face-first on his mattress, only to crash moments later.

  The clock read eleven thirty the next time he woke, to the sound of Cullen screaming for him. Getting up, he ignored the pain in his leg and ran to his son. It took a while to calm him down from the nightmare but when he finally went back to sleep, Parker realized he needed some water.

  He didn’t want the eye-piercing glare, so he left the lights off and headed toward the kitchen. Scratching the back of his head, he hitched up the band of his workout pants and continued on, favoring his left side, where the muscles were sore from physical therapy. The poke from one of his son’s plastic soldiers stabbed into him, and he twisted to try to avoid it, because where there was one there were more. His leg, already weakened, didn’t take kindly to the swift adjustment, and it gave out on him. He stumbled into the coffee table, and everything went black as he hit the floor.

  Pain beat him into awareness. Parker didn’t move, trying to assess the current situation. Not much made sense to him, other than the radiating discomfort coming from different parts of his body.

  He moved one arm and sucked in a sharp breath. Dislocated? Fractured? Possibly broken. His feet were on fire, and his back hurt, as did his calves. He needed to get up to the light and see what the fuck was going on.

  Goddamn minefield is what happened. I was just brought down by a fucking platoon of plastic green army soldiers.

  The second he struggled to sit, he paused at the bite of glass in his palm. It took a while, but he managed to get to a seated position. There was blood on his head and hands, and he needed to get help. The stab of his cell in his pocket had him breathing a sigh of relief.

  Withdrawing it, he pressed the call button and almost held his breath as he listened to it ringing.

  …

  The chiming of those damn bells wouldn’t effing stop, and Skylar fumbled around in bed to slap the alarm that continued to go off.

  Her phone.

  She lunged for it, swiping her finger along the screen to answer it. “Yes?”

  “Don’t hang up, Skylar. Please. I need you.”

  It took a few moments before it sank in that this was Parker on the other end of the line. Squinting at the clock, she did a double take at the time. Half past one in the morning. The rain pounded heavily on the roof and windows.

  Her heart flipped over at the raw need in his tone, but she struggled to harden her emotions to him once more. “What for?”

  “I think I have a concussion, I’m bleeding, and—”

  “I’m on my way,” she interrupted him, exploding up out of bed, all trace of sleep gone. “Be good, Alpin.” And she was out the door, running barefoot across the lawns between them, drenched in seconds. “Your door open?” There was no asking about the other person who could have been there—he called her.

  “No. Sliding door in the back is.”

  Skidding in the soft grass, she headed for the gate and was in his backyard, hurrying to the door. She shook her head as she stepped inside and searched for the light switch she knew was close. It took her a few moments to find it, and as the light splintered the dark, she blinked a few times, then hurried toward the living room.

  Skylar hung up the phone and dropped it on the end table, where she turned on a light.

  “Holy hell.”

  The coffee table was broken, and Parker sat on some of the broken glass and wood. The man himself leaned against the couch, and she could see blood.

  Cutting her gaze to the front door, she skirted the mess and shoved her feet into his black combat boots before going back to crouch before him.

  It looked like there had been a brawl, and if he’d come out on top, she’d hate to see the other guy.

  “Parker,” she whispered. Touching the side of his jaw, she called his name again.

  He finally allowed her to see those green-blue eyes of his.

  “Hey.” Pain laced his tone.

  “What the fuck happened? Can you get up, or do you need me to call an ambulance?”

  “I fell.”

  “I know you weren’t drinking. So what happened?”

  “I fucking fell when I was coming back from checking on Cullen.”

  She hid her amused smile at the sight of Lord knew how many army men strewn over the floor.

  He muttered something, but she ignored it as she went to his front door and slid free from his boots before dashing once more into the rain and running flat out for her house. Once inside, she yanked on a sweatshirt and wedged her wet feet into a pair of canvas slip-ons. Apparently Gemma wasn’t there, which was why he called her.

  Phone. Where the fuck is my phone?

  His place. On one of the end tables.

  She took a deep breath and swiped her keys, doing her damnedest to ignore how much they shook. Skylar ran to her truck and hopped inside, only to lift her ass with a squeal. Reaching behind her, she withdrew one of Cullen’s army men toys that had been wedged in the seat.

  Tears burned her eyes as she pitched it over her shoulder to land in the back seat. Ugly thoughts and locked-away memories pushed to the forefront of her mind about that rainy night when her entire life changed, and she ruthlessly shoved them back. It wasn’t time for her to think about how much she missed Brennen. Her truck’s engine roared to life, and she went next door, backing up to the garage. Leaving her large vehicle idling, she hustled back to his side.

  Parker had managed to lift himself to the seat of the couch, but that was it. He still looked disoriented.

  “You sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance?”

  “Let’s go.” He surged to his feet—he had to be in pain, because the soldiers were everywhere. And plastic or not, it looked like his feet had taken a beating, before the rest of him had.

  She brought over his boots and helped him into them, then escorted him to the front seat of her truck.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said before closing the door on him.

  One more trip inside and she was standing in the entryway to Cullen’s room. The hall light was on behind her, providing her with enough illumination to see, but it might not be enough for the child, so she turned on a lamp.

  The shelves he’d put up were there, including some of the boy’s most prized possessions. She noticed the tool belt hanging from the bed footboard’s post. Murray was tucked against him as he slept, his lips parted slightly.

  Once she packed a bag for him, she stood over the bed, doing her best not to drip on him. Those damn tears were back with a vengeance this time, and she ignored them as she reached over and gently placed a hand on the small of his back.

  “Cullen,” she said, voice pitched low. “Cullen, I need you to wake up.”

  He stirred but didn’t wake, so she swiped a blanket and put it over him before scooping him up in her arms. Keeping him as dry as she could, she held him close and made sure part of the blanket would keep the rain from him when they stepped outside.

  The child sighed and snuggled closer to her. His soft, warm breath puffed against her neck. It all swarmed her, the scent of innocence, how it was holding a sleeping child in her arms.

  Pull your shit together. Don’t stand here wallowing in your past grief.

  Even so, she brushed a kiss over his head, swiped the bag, and headed up the hall to the front door. She shut it behind them and hurried to the truck, where she got Cullen strapped into the car seat.

  As she climbed back behind the wheel, Parker glanced in her direction, and his eyes were still hazy.

  “Almost there,” she said, not entirely positive the words weren’t for her instead of him.

  She drove fast and screeched to a halt at the emergency room. Jumping out, she went inside and called for help. As
they wheeled him inside, she went and parked the truck. This time, she held a three-year-old, his bag, and her own suitcase of demons dealing with the sudden and completely unexpected loss of her own son.

  Cullen remained burrowed into her, embedding himself deeper beneath her skin all the while hacking swiftly at the scab that had taken so many years to form over her own wounds.

  The waiting room was not only dry but warm, so she didn’t get further chilled from being out in the rain. Readjusting the shoulder strap of the bag, she went to the desk and stood, waiting with as much remaining patience as she had.

  “They’re running some X-rays on him and when he’s done with that, we will have him back in exam three, and you can go sit with him, okay, hon?”

  Skylar forced a smile. “Thank you.” This time, she’d brought him, as opposed to their first visit, when Parker had been the one to bring her.

  Skimming the area, she picked a spot out of the way, not that they were busy, but she wanted Cullen to stay asleep. She wasn’t sure she knew what answers to give him. She sank into one of the hard, uncomfortable plastic chairs, readjusted the body of the slumbering youngster, and exhaled slowly, her heart finally beginning to slow.

  The army men. How the hell had those gotten there?

  Although, were she honest with herself, she had a pretty good idea and right now, he slept in her arms. Cullen was getting far more inquisitive the more confident he got; her guess was he’d snooped and discovered the packages of soldiers. Chances were, her boy had been keeping himself occupied.

  Cullen isn’t my boy. Didn’t matter how firm she was with herself; it was hard to convince her mind and heart when he lay there with her, tucked close and trusting her to keep him safe.

  “Ma’am?” She glanced up to find the nurse before her. “I’ll take you to him now.”

  “Thank you.” She rose and followed the petite redhead.

 

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