HIS Destiny (H.I.S. #5)

by Sheila Kell

  Jamie, a nurse at the hospital where he’d been recovering from burns and wounds inflicted during a bomb blast, had approached him on more than one occasion about riding off with him. He’d brushed it off as a joke. On the day prior to his release, though, she’d tried one last time. “Trent,” Jamie had said softly, “I know you planned to go off alone, but you don’t really need to be alone. And, I don’t want to be alone any longer.”

  “Jamie—” he’d started. It had shocked the hell out of him. She’d been a great nurse caring for him but hadn’t acted as if she cared more than nurse-patient. Granted, as a red-blooded male, he’d noticed her beauty. She was attractive with long dark hair she kept tied back and her deep, laughing chocolate-colored eyes. No matter her good looks or her constantly cheerful attitude, he wasn’t ready for a romantic relationship. He might never be again. Hell, who would want him as fucked up as he was on the inside and especially on the outside?

  As for his trip, he hadn’t kept it a secret that as soon as he’d recovered enough, he was taking his bike to the road and going wherever it took him. Getting away from it all was the only thing he could think about that didn’t rip his walls apart. As a grown man, he didn’t need shit bothering him. Better to let it all go and start over elsewhere.

  She’d put her hands up to stop his flow of words. “I’m not asking for that. I’m talking about companionship. Just give me a month of seeing what I can of the country. After that, I don’t think I’ll be up for much.” She had paused, and he’d been ready to interject again and decline having her as a travel partner. Then, she’d heaved a burdened sigh, and he’d waited for what he guessed he wouldn’t like to hear. “You see, I’m dying of ovarian cancer.”

  That had stopped him in his mental tracks, and his heart had beaten rapidly for her. She’d seemed so full of life that he’d struggled to rationalize her words. It took him a few moments to regain his senses and ask more questions to find out further information, even if he didn’t like the answers. He’d steeled himself. “What about chemo? Drugs? All the stuff they do to help save someone with cancer?” He knew not everyone survived, but it happened.

  While she shook her head and her eyes glistened with unshed tears, his heart ached for a woman he didn’t really know. A woman who’d tried her damnedest to cheer him on a daily basis. An impossible task.

  “It’s too late. I can try it all, but….” After she’d left that to hang between them, he didn’t need to ask anything else. She’d answered him. Either way, she’d die soon.

  He’d swallowed hard. How could he deny a dying woman her final wish when it was in his power to grant it, but only his selfishness stood in the way? Thinking back on how she’d taken care of him, changing his bandages and keeping him company to the point where he’d somewhat looked forward to her visits, ate away all his self-absorbed thoughts. An aching need to repay her, in any way he could, had overtaken every thought in his head.

  So, after he’d helped Devon on a quick mission, he and Jamie had taken off with no real plan in mind. Eventually, she’d given him a list of places she wanted to see—The Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls and other major tourist destinations—and they’d seen each and every landmark that had been on her bucket list.

  Only, he hadn’t taken her back after a month. They’d both been so carefree—her not worrying about dying and him not worrying about what his next move would be.

  “I love this one.” Jamie leaned her phone toward him with a photo of Trent at the Grand Canyon.

  Smiling, he pulled out his phone. “Oh yeah.” He flipped through some photos on his cell and found one identical to it with her in it. “I like this one.” Proudly, he showed her the picture. They’d done that at most photo sites. When they couldn’t get someone to take their photo together, they’d take them in the same spot on each phone.

  “Wait. Wait.” She pulled her phone back close and snickered. “I’ve got it.” Producing a photo of the two of them in the same spot, she smiled brightly.

  For some reason, it created fits of laughter between the two of them. They’d had a good time at each stop, when Jamie wasn’t too weak.

  “I’m glad we took that tour through Yellowstone instead of trying to find all those magnificent spots ourselves,” Jamie said.

  Talking him into ditching the bike hadn’t been easy for her, but in the end, he’d acquiesced, and they’d joined a tour. Like her, he was glad they had. She’d enjoyed it so much.

  “What was your favorite place?” he asked.

  She appeared to think for a moment, then turned to him. “Here.”

  A lump formed in his throat and guilt hit him square in the chest because he’d never felt so alive as he did at the moment.

  “I still say you can’t surf, not that there were enough waves here to do it properly,” she teased.

  Trent laughed. “You’ve got me. I have no clue how to fucking surf. But,” he said and winked, “I looked good doing it.”

  “I don’t know about that. As many headers as you took only made for plenty of funny videos.”

  “You didn’t,” he said aghast.

  A big smile split her face, and she hugged her phone to her chest. “I did.”

  Reaching out, he grabbed for the phone. “Give me that. I want those videos deleted.”

  Jamie giggled, and he decided to tickle her instead which increased the volume of her laughter. Once she began to hiccup and could barely get, “Enough,” out, he stopped.

  God, he was going to miss her.

  During the travels, he and Jamie had never become anything more than friends. They’d become close enough that he’d poured open his heart and she’d listened. And she’d given her advice. Advice that always made sense, but his gut twisted too much at what she’d tell him. He just wasn’t ready to let the pain go. He might never be. It wouldn’t be fair if he did and live as if his life hadn’t been torn in two. Hell, each night he went to sleep, he’d be almost sick to his stomach at the fact he’d enjoyed the day. A day he didn’t deserve to have attached to his life when he’d survived but Les hadn’t.

  Since they were on a secluded beach and it was only Jamie in sight, he’d removed his shirt to enjoy the sun. Because she’d nursed him in the hospital, he was never embarrassed for her to see his hideous back; she’d already seen the destruction the bomb blast had wrought that modern medicine hadn’t been able to fix. It had been… freeing, sitting in the sun without hiding his torso. They’d raced in and out of the waves and relaxed on the sand underneath a beach umbrella. Damn, he thought as his mood continued to turn south. He caught himself before he plunged into a place he didn’t want to be.

  She’s been good for my soul.

  Resting his head on his arms, Trent had nearly blocked out the world. The sound of the surf washed through him, leaving him relaxed and clear-minded.

  “Promise me something, Trent,” Jamie said.

  Uneasy at what her request might be, he hesitantly responded, “I’ll try.”

  Turning to him, she placed a hand on his cheek. Her touch soothed him. “Forgive yourself and your family and go home to them.”

  He jerked back so quickly, her startled look almost frightened him. “I can’t promise that.”

  Forgive what? Senator Blake Hamilton, since Trent found out he was his real father?

  He’d grown up on the grounds of the Hamilton estate and finally knew why. The man had wanted to keep him under his thumb without anyone knowing his dirty little secret of how he had an affair with his assistant—Trent’s mother.

  “I don’t think I want to deal with”—he hesitated before spitting out—“my father.” He scrunched up his face. “The word feels like sand sliding across my tongue.”

  “You’ll have to make your peace with him at some point. Whether you forgive him or not.”

  “I’m damn sure not going to forgive him.”

  “What about your brothers? The Hamilton brothers are innocent in this, even though you say the oldest, Jesse, found out
and kept it quiet.”

  With the weight of her statements, his shoulders sagged in despair. “They’ve been good to me. They’ve always been good to me. Growing up, they involved me in everything.”

  “That’s good then.” She cocked her head at him. “Isn’t it?”

  Leaning forward, he dug his hand in the sand and made a small pile before answering. “I don’t know. I don’t blame them, but calling them my brothers after a lifetime of wishing they were…. I just don’t know.”

  The sun began its rapid descent beyond the horizon, and they both sat, transfixed.

  “Are you going to go back to work with them?”

  Several years ago, the Hamilton brothers had started a business—Hamilton Investigation & Security, or HIS as it was commonly called, where they pooled together the talents of military and law enforcement to make a top-tier crew of professionals that were in big demand, and it paid so well between the private and government contracts, they could pick and choose. It seemed that lately, their time was spent chasing after men who were terrorizing women who’d ended up becoming Hamilton wives. Or, husband as with the men’s foster brother marrying their baby sister. It was their little girl, Amber, who he’d saved.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You said they offered you a partnership,” she said.

  The sun slipped away completely, and they sat in darkness only manageable by the brightness of the full moon.

  “I don’t want it,” he spat out.

  Jamie sighed. “Fine. We won’t talk about it.”

  They sat quietly for a few minutes before she spoke again. “We both know my time is close. Before I go, you have to promise me to at least deal with your survivor’s guilt. It’s what’s eating you up, and I worry that once you don’t have me to worry about, you’ll never fully recover from it because you’ll just run whenever you can.”

  Her words were a punch to Trent’s gut. How could he forgive himself for not finding a way to save Les? Trent had trusted the Hamilton men to get them all out alive. He’d trusted himself. He’d failed, and the damn terrorist had blown herself up, taking Les’s life with her.

  In his mind, he didn’t deserve to live after not saving his friend. “How can I ever forgive myself for not finding a way to help Les? To change spots with him? I don’t know if I’ll ever go back. I can’t face them.” The HIS mission may have been successful in saving Amber, but at a high cost. Les had been a good friend to all.

  “Did your brothers say anything about it when you released yourself from the hospital and helped them rescue one of your brother’s wives? Didn’t they trust you?”

  Flinching, he knew she was right about helping Devon—one of his half-brothers. God that word burned his tongue. “No. But that was different.”

  A coughing fit hit her, and he was reminded of her illness. His heart tore apart, knowing the end was near. He’d never had someone he was so comfortable with as a friend with the exception of Kelly Williams. And he missed her greatly. Kelly was the one person he knew who wouldn’t judge him. At least he hoped. He couldn’t take her censure.

  “Trent, you’re ready to face it all. The new family. The new father. And Les’s friends and family,” she rasped. “Promise me.”

  No way in hell was he ready to handle any of it. He’d rather just move somewhere and start over and forget about it all. No one person should have to deal with so much at one time. But there was only one answer to give at this point. He would have to lie to her. “I promise.”

  One thing Trent knew was that the beach would be their final stop. Jamie couldn’t go on any further.

  As the days went, when she began to weaken, he took care of her as she succumbed to her disease. Not having any close family, she hadn’t planned to burden them—or him. Yet, he couldn’t deliver her home just so she could die alone.

  The rifles discharging in her veteran salute startled him. As an army nurse with two tours in Afghanistan, Jamie had earned that respect. He was glad he’d taken her home and arranged for it.

  Jamie, I know that I promised you I’d go home, but I need more time. I can’t face them yet.

  With that thought, he turned from the funeral and silently left.

  THE soothing sound of the waves crashing upon the shore and then receding, leaving the sand coated with white foam, seeped into Trent’s soul, attempting to cleanse all that was wrong in his world. Sitting on the sand, legs pulled up and forearms on his knees, he braved being shirtless because, from his experience with Jamie, no one came to this little parcel of beach. They’d wondered if it was privately owned and they were trespassing. Then they’d decided they didn’t care. If it was someone’s little chunk of paradise, they could come toss them off the beach.

  In order to remove his shirt, being secluded was important to him since the bomb blast had done a number on his back, butt, and rear of his legs. In recovery, he’d suffered through many skin grafts, but, in his mind, he still looked like a hideous monster.

  The true problem he faced was his soul, not his skin. Jamie had called it survivor’s guilt. That was what he’d been feeling, why he didn’t deserve to be here, why his soul had been ripped apart and destroyed. Because had he not walked into the situation, his friend Les, might’ve found a way out. But he had walked into the mix of things. Sure he’d saved Amber’s life. Sure Les hadn’t been in a position close enough to help; instead, Les had been closer to the terrorist. There’d been no choice. Had Les not stepped between them all and tackled the bomber, Trent and the little girl would also be dead. His picking up Amber, pulling her in his arms, and putting his back to Les before launching himself in the swimming pool, was how he’d been injured. It had hurt like hell. So much so that at times, he’d wanted to die.

  God, he wanted to punch something, and punching the sand wasn’t cutting it. Slow, deep, calming breaths, Jamie would tell him when he got himself into an emotional tangle. Hell, he’d come back here because of the peace he’d found when the two of them had been here. That calm wasn’t coming his way today.

  Inhaling deeply, the extra expansion of his lungs as he held his breath calmed him. Today the air smelled like an ocean should—clean, wet with a salty tease.

  Sadness for Jamie seeped back into his heart. She’d been so weak at that point that he’d been mostly carrying her. The doctor he’d made her see hadn’t approved of her activity but told her that he understood.

  Long before the shadow came over him, he’d heard the squeak of feet walking in sand, but not in enough time to don his shirt. Whoever it was might be so grossed out they’d go away. Hopefully, it wasn’t screaming as they ran. Just going away would be nice because he didn’t want company.

  All along he’d wondered if his new family had known where he’d been. They probably had. Devon surely tracked his credit card activity or whatever shit he did to find someone. His damn secretive CIA computer-shit training was spooky.

  Trent had been curious how long the Hamiltons would let him be before they intruded with what they thought was best. If this was one, he expected it to be the eldest Hamilton brother. Jesse always took control of everything. His pulse skipped at the thought that he had to decide whether to acknowledge his relationship with the family.

  But the intoxicating scent that wafted over him and tickled his nose as someone sat down beside him told him it wasn’t one of his newfound brothers. It was a perfume he recognized, as was the blonde hair flapping in the wind he caught from the corner of his eye.

  Realizing who it was, he smiled at the thought of her visiting him, but cringed inwardly a little. She was someone he hadn’t wanted to see his burned and scarred back, although he knew deep down she wouldn’t comment on it. Wouldn’t get sick looking at it. Wouldn’t give him the fucking pity look. That was the one thing he really didn’t want or need.

  Still gazing over the sea, the two sat in companionable silence. This was a woman he’d once made a move on, only to be rebuffed. True, his heart hadn’t been in it, nor was
it broken now, but unbelievably, she’d chosen the youngest Hamilton brother over him. Playboy AJ. Hell, both men had been players. But Trent had even taken a bullet to protect her, and she’d still chosen someone else. Women. They need to come with instruction manuals.

  He guessed it only made sense to send her if the Hamilton men were being pussies about approaching him. They’d want to bring out the big guns, and with him, Megan was it. Actually, Kelly was, but Megan was within their sphere. The question in his mind was why were they searching him out now.

  Unable to stand the suspense any longer, he greeted her, “Hey, doll. Did you finally have that kid?” He should’ve slapped his own self for that stupid fucking question. Without even turning to fully look at her, it was obvious she wasn’t pregnant any longer. Plus, he’d been gone long enough that she’d had the baby months ago or it’d be a world record pregnancy.

  She leaned back, propping herself up on her arms. “Yes. Not long after you left. You have a beautiful nephew—Alexander Jonathan.”

  Nephew? This whole family thing would take some getting used to—if he decided to do so. He’d been an only child all his life. Hell, he wasn’t ready to deal with this crap because with the brothers came the father. A man he’d just as soon never see again in his life.

  “Where’s your keeper?” It amazed him that AJ allowed her to sit this close to him for so long. Her husband was a jealous and possessive shit, especially around Trent. He knew AJ didn’t like when Trent flirted with her, but he couldn’t help it—flirting was in his blood, and it took control of his actions far too frequently. He mentally shrugged. AJ would show up at any minute.

  Through the salty breeze, a soft chuckle reached his ears. “He’s at the hotel with Alex.”

  Utterly flabbergasted, he jerked his head to her. “He let you come here—alone?”