by Amie Knight
Yes, I came here to cuddle the babies, but every time I sat in one of these rocking chairs and held them, it felt like they were cuddling me.
If you asked my opinion, nothing was better for the soul than holding a tiny baby’s heart near your own. Nothing soothed my mind more than a soft, small fist wrapped around a pinky finger. Nothing in the world made this girl happier than the smell of a newborn baby.
I knew one day I’d find my one and we’d have a baby of our own to cuddle. It was on my list, after all, but this would have to do for now. And as I stared down at Gracie, I thought to myself how it wasn’t so bad waiting. Not bad at all.
My leg. My fucking leg. Pain blasted through it as I lay on the dirt floor beneath me. I tried to sit up so I could assess the damage when Davies charged toward me, not a bit of hesitation in his blue-green eyes.
“Down, stay down,” he said while pushing me onto my back. “It’s going to be okay.”
I had no fucking choice but to stay down and I knew it wasn’t going to be okay. I’d seen this scenario play out before and I knew that look on Davies’s face all too well. I was fucked. My only solace was that he was an experienced medic and had dealt with the aftermath of IEDs before.
Knowing I could bleed out in minutes or even seconds, Davies ordered another soldier to apply pressure to the arteries in my leg while he tied tourniquets around them. I grunted and groaned through every touch, the pain downright dizzying.
I watched as Davies injected morphine into my other leg, but I didn’t feel a thing, the pain too great throughout the rest of my body. I could feel him drawing a large M on my face with the time he administered the meds.
“We got you, boss. We got you.” He patted my chest. “Just hang tight. The heli is on its way.”
I cringed at the word boss every damn time they called me that, like I was the leader of some big crime family instead of a squadron of some of the most amazing soldiers I’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.
I knew why they called me that. I was strict. Tyrannical.
“I hate that fucking name,” I grumbled out as Davies put my head in his lap.
He smiled down at me. “Yeah, we know.” He winked.
My eyes started to close. I hadn’t been this tired in forever.
Someone slapped my cheek hard and my eyes sprang open.
“Stay with me, man. Stay with me, okay?” Davies said from above me and we were running across a field, his pleading eyes on mine. I was on a stretcher and my guys were trying to carry me to safety, but we were far from out of the danger zone.
Swirling dust and the thumping of rotors told me the bird was landing close by, so my guys ran, trying to take cover, but our enemies were far from done with us.
“We’re almost there, boss,” Davies said.
And I looked at his eyes. The green in them. The same green in his five-year-old daughter’s eyes. It hadn’t been too long ago I’d visited their home the last time I’d been on leave.
A crack of bullets split the air as we dashed toward the helicopter. Smoke. Flying dirt. And my stretcher flipped sideways as Davies’s eyes widened. Blood, yelling, blackness.
My eyes snapped open. I turned over and grabbed my phone to check the time. Five a.m. I was like clockwork. I never slept past five. It was a residual effect of my former life. The life I’d loved. The life I’d lost. I rolled back over in bed and closed my eyes again, willing myself to go back to sleep and try not to think about what most people would say is a nightmare. Only I knew the truth, it wasn’t a nightmare. It was a memory. A memory I’d likely never forget.
I opened my eyes and stared at the pills on my bedside table. One bottle to make me forget, only I knew I never would. One bottle to ease the pain, but I knew the pain would be forever incessant. I’d decided two days ago I wasn’t going to take the damn things anymore, but my leg throbbed. My fucking chest burned. And the memories wouldn’t let me go. I was in hell with no way out.
Must Do Today!
Stop By The Little Library
Grocery Shop (you are out of donuts!)
Call Adrian Back
“I’m not avoiding your calls, Adrian,” I said as I tried to shimmy myself into a pair of snug leggings while simultaneously holding the phone. It wasn’t easy to get a pair of leggings on and up on a regular day. Holding a phone while doing it made it nearly impossible, but Adrian had called me three times in the past twenty-four hours, so I knew I needed to return his call that morning.
I’d been deep in the editing cave. Business was picking up, which was good for my bank account but not good for my social life or my stalking life. I hadn’t seen my good-looking neighbor since he’d told me and Will to keep it down in the hallway over a week ago. It was sad.
“If you’re not avoiding my calls, then how come you answer Ainsley when she calls you?” Adrian grumbled through the phone.
What the heck? “Are you for real right now? Don’t accuse me of playing favorites! She hasn’t called me this week. So, technically, I haven’t answered her calls either. What’s going on?”
The phone line got quiet before he answered. “I don’t know. Ainsley’s acting funny. She’s quiet. And moody. I thought when we moved in together this crazy fear of losing her would go away. But sometimes, I’m worried she’s going to make a run for it again.” He let out a deep breath.
“Oh, Adrian. She loves you. You know that, right?” I said, finally getting my leggings up around my belly and lying back on my bed to take a break. Whew.
“I do know that, but that didn’t stop her from leaving me the first time,” he said quietly. “And why are you breathing so hard?”
“I’m getting dressed, for freaking sake! Give a girl a break.”
“Cardio, Miranda banana, you need cardio.” Adrian laughed into the phone.
He was probably right.
“Want me to ask Ainsley to lunch this week and talk to her?”
“Would you? That would really be awesome. I’m just so worried about her,” he finished, sounding relieved.
And I knew he wasn’t just worried about her. He was worried about himself, too. Ainsley and Adrian had been together for as long as I could remember. Soulmates. Only in our teens, we had all suffered an immeasurable loss. Ainsley’s sister, Lori, had passed away. Ainsley and Adrian had been a mess at the loss of her. She’d been their best friend and mine, too. Ainsley had taken off after that, leaving me and Adrian in the dust for four long years. They’d been back together for a couple of months now, but I knew how hard it was for Adrian to trust that Ainsley wouldn’t bolt again when things got hard.
We never really talked about Lori. It hurt Ainsley too much. And whenever I thought of Lori, my stomach and heart felt like they were going to jump right out of my body. Because I’d found her the night she’d died. She’d already been cold, her lips blue. She’d overdosed on drugs and alcohol at a high school party I’d been at.
I remembered phoning nine-one-one, the operator telling me to put the phone on speaker and lay it down, and then telling me how to administer CPR. Through my tears, I’d tried so very hard to save her. And for a bit, I’d thought maybe I’d been successful. But I was only victorious in prolonging our agony because in the end I hadn’t saved her. She’d been too far gone and had died only days later in a hospital. The memory of the night I found her still pained me. The memory of the days that followed nearly killed me. I’d failed her.
I felt the familiar burn of tears behind my eyes thinking of Lori. I couldn’t stomach the thought of drugs now. They terrified me. How they could destroy a person. How they could take away a person from the people they loved, changing them forever. Altering life’s paths in the most awful of ways.
“I’ll talk to her, I promise. She’s probably just stressed with her new job,” I said, my mood somber.
And that could have been true. Ainsley was going through a lot of changes. She’d gotten a new job and had moved in with Adrian. Her momma just finished a round of chemo an
d radiation. She probably just needed a friend to talk to.
“You’re probably right. I’m probably just overreacting,” Adrian breathed across the line. “I can’t be without her again, Miranda.”
“I know and you won’t have to. I’m sure everything is fine.”
“I love you. Thanks for talking me down.”
I smiled. “Hey, that’s what I’m here for. Well, that and comedic relief.” I giggled some before continuing. “I love you, too, and I’m sorry I didn’t call you back sooner.”
“Bye, Miranda panda.”
“Bye, Big A.”
I hung up the phone and immediately texted Ainsley to meet me for lunch the next day at a deli a block from the house called Benny’s. It wasn’t a request, so I was pleased but surprised when she responded with a ‘see you then.’
I brushed my hair and put on some mascara before changing into a long black top that matched my pink and black rose leggings. It was October, but this was the South, so I threw some flip-flops on my feet and grabbed my purse and headed out.
About a block from the little library, I noticed someone going through my tree box library. I always got the feels seeing someone taking books out or putting books in. It thrilled me, the thought that people loved to read like I did. The closer I got, the more my face screwed up because that looked like my smoking hot neighbor, but it couldn’t be. Could it?
I got as close as I could without disturbing him. I may have stood behind a tree. That wasn’t creepy at all, but I couldn’t look away. He was wearing his workout clothes, a gray T-shirt, and black running pants with black shoes. He was looking through the books, reading the blurbs on the back, his forehead crinkled in thought, those sunglasses covering half his face. And I wanted to see his eyes. They were the windows to his soul and I wanted to know what his soul thought of all those books.
I stood there for another five minutes watching him, wondering what the heck he was actually doing before he finally picked a book. And it was one of mine! I recognized the cover immediately. It was an eccentric caveman romance that I thought I’d never love, but had turned out to be one of my absolute favorite books ever. With the book in hand, he started heading my way. I ran and darted behind a small fountain nearby. Stalking was scary and awkward as all get out. I didn’t think this was the type of cardio Adrian was talking about. And I was starting to think I wasn’t cut out for it.
I watched him walk back toward our apartment building, wondering if he was actually going to read that book. Why would he take it if he wasn’t? Did he realize it was a romance? I had more questions than answers as I dropped some new books in the library and headed toward the grocery store.
I had to pee. I had to pee so, so bad. I had to pee like a freaking race horse. I ran up the stairs to my apartment, three bags from the grocery store in each hand, my purse across my body, and a prayer on my lips that I made it to the bathroom on time. Throwing the grocery bags right outside the front of my door, I then looked for the keys in my purse, jumping around like a monkey jacked on caffeine.
“Come on. Come on. Where are you?” I mumbled to the inside of my purse and crossed my legs at the knee.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I whispered as I found the bottom of my bag and the set of keys. I did the pee pee dance for about twenty seconds while I unlocked the door. Leaving the bags in the hallway outside, I pushed through my front door and ran for the bathroom. I made it there just on time, finished my business, and washed my hands.
I’d only been in the house maybe five minutes when I marched back toward the front of the apartment to grab my groceries out of the hallway. However, I didn’t make it to the hallway because the sexy sleep take-awayer was standing right inside my doorway. In my living room! I stood there stunned, not knowing what to say. There he stood, red-faced, sweaty, and looking very, very angry. He wasn’t just wearing one of the sexy scowls he liked to sport. He was wearing a completely murderous one and for once, I wasn’t overcome by his sexiness. I was scared.
I awkwardly cleared my throat and gestured toward the door behind him before asking, “May I help you?” I looked at his face and then past him to the open door he was standing in front of, letting him know he was trespassing and I didn’t like it even if I was intimidated by his presence.
“You leave those bags in the hallway?” His voice boomed at me and I flinched.
I just stared at him, completely shocked that he would come in my apartment and yell at me when he hadn’t so much as spoken more than two words to me in the time he’d lived here.
My heart raced. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I must have looked like a codfish standing there, but I couldn’t make the words come.
“I asked, did you leave those fucking bags in the hallway?” he demanded again, a little quieter this time, but I wasn’t fooled. His voice was full of the kind of nastiness that made grown women cry. And to be honest, I was so stunned by this whole confrontation I felt the familiar tingling in my nose that said tears were coming.
“Yes, yes,” I answered in a meek stutter. “I had to use the bathroom—” I started.
“It’s fucking dangerous and lazy to leave your shit lying in the hallway. That’s my goddamn hallway, too,” he spat and all I could think to do was nod in agreement. Because it was his hallway, too, after all, even if he was a complete freaking lunatic.
He turned and walked back out the door he had come through and my heart dropped back into my chest from my throat.
I raced behind him, eager to get the grocery bags up that had upset this big man so much. He was already unlocking his door when I picked up the groceries and noticed my donuts were smashed to bits.
“My donuts are squished,” I breathed out quietly, still shocked from the whole altercation. And even though I’d been mostly talking to myself, I knew he heard when I saw him stop and turn my way from his peripheral vision.
“Hmph,” he muttered from inside his door and I looked at him dead-on, which turned out to be a big mistake.
The sneer on his face said it all as he looked my body over from my flip-flops past my leggings and breasts to my face before saying, “You don’t need donuts anyway.”
And on those parting words, he slammed the door in my face. I grabbed my bags and ran for my tiny apartment, slamming my own door. I walked my groceries to the kitchen counter and slid down the refrigerator until I was sitting on the cold, hard tile of the floor. My heart was still pounding out of my chest and my hands were shaking. Yes, I was scared as heck, but more than anything I was pissed. So effing mad!
I’d never had a man speak to me so awfully. I’d never had anyone insinuate I was fat besides my witch of a mother. No one had ever come into my house without my permission. He’d caught me off guard this time. I hadn’t been prepared. But that would never happen again. If ever in this lifetime that man did something to upset me again, he would know it. And I would make sure of it. I was no one’s doormat, no matter how beautiful he was. No matter how I’d worked him up in my mind to be something he clearly wasn’t. I’d learned from an early age that most people would treat you poorly if you let them. My mother was a prime example of that. And I’d never let anyone treat me the way she did ever again.
“What can I get you?” The waiter snapped me out of my daze.
I looked across the table at my sister, knowing she’d been talking for the past five minutes I’d been checked out. I was disgusted with myself. With the simple fact that I couldn’t have an easy conversation with my sister without my mind checking out for a bit. My thoughts wandered all over the place lately. I couldn’t concentrate for shit.
The past six months had been a blur of pain, exercise, pain, therapy. Rinse, fucking repeat. I got up, made myself walk three miles even though my fucking leg killed me, went back to my dinky apartment, ate lunch, and then jumped into my truck and headed off to therapy. If you’d asked me a year ago where I’d be right now, I’d tell you in the desert, where I’d spent most of my military career for the
last fifteen years. Not sitting at a restaurant across from Harper, who I’d barely spoken to since our parents died ten years ago. We’d drifted apart since their deaths. My parents were the strong sort that always insisted family was first. They made it a point for us to always be together for the holidays, even if I was behind a computer screen in some foreign country. I always had dinner with my family for Thanksgiving if I could. It figures that the minute they were gone, we’d fall apart and go to shit.
“I’ll have the fried chicken and mac and cheese, and collard greens,” Harper said to the waiter and I shook my head.
“What?” She looked affronted and swung her long brown hair over her shoulder.
I ignored her and looked at our waiter. “I’ll have the baked chicken over a salad, balsamic on the side, please.”
Our waiter left and Harper started right in on me. “What was that look for?”
I raised my eyebrows. “You know what that look was for.”
“I got a vegetable.” She laughed.
“I don’t think a vegetable drenched in butter and pieces of bacon count, Harps.”
“You’re a bummer, Holden.”
And boy didn’t I fucking know that. It had all been downhill since I’d stepped on that IED. Since I’d lost my friend. Since I’d lost my career.
Harper leaned closer to me over the table, lowering her voice. “How are you liking Columbia? I’ve hardly seen you since you moved here.”
How did I like Columbia? The truth was, it wasn’t that I didn’t like Columbia. I just fucking hated civilian life. I didn’t know what to do with myself most days.
“I like it well enough,” I mumbled behind my coffee cup. I didn’t want Harper to worry about me any more than she already did.
Even though we’d hardly spoken in ten years, when she heard of my accident, she’d rushed to be with me. She was at my bedside as soon as I’d arrived back in the States. She didn’t leave me for a month solid. She’d been my rock, in a world full of unknown chaos and pain.