Soldier's Heart: a Wounded Love novel

by Megan Green

  I’m forgotten two seconds later as she turns her attention to Emma and my mom, making sure nobody missed seeing her epic moment. My phone vibrates on the table, and the same number flashes across the screen. Rachel sees it and moves to slide out of the booth.

  “Here, you want to get that? Pretty noisy in here so it might be better to take it in the back.”

  I slide out behind her. “Thanks. I have no clue who it is, but this is the second time in a row they’ve called, so I guess I’d better find out.”

  I shoot a quick look at Emma, making sure she’s going to be okay without me for a few minutes. She nods slightly.

  As I’m walking through the door marked “staff only,” I put the phone to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Isaiah Wright?” a man’s deep voice questions.

  “Yes. May I ask who’s calling?”

  “This is Dr. Marks. From Eastside Rehab.”

  My heart stops. Jim’s doctor. I look at my watch, seeing it’s after eight. There’s never a good reason for a doctor to be calling so late in the evening. I close the office door behind me before addressing him again.

  “Sir?”

  He exhales loudly. “I’m terribly sorry to be making this call. Officer James Stone passed away this evening. His fever skyrocketed, causing a seizure. Unfortunately, he never came out of it. We were unable to resuscitate him. I’m very sorry.”

  I sit on the bottom bunk. The one I’d always slept on during those long nights spent here when we were younger. I cradle my forehead in my other hand, trying to process what he’s telling me.

  “Did he suffer?”

  “No, he passed quickly. He had what we call a grand mal seizure, but it wasn’t prolonged. He was gone before we even had the crash cart in the room.”

  I nod stupidly, knowing he can’t see me. But I’m grateful to hear he wasn’t in pain. At least not more than he normally was.

  “Thank you for calling me.”

  “We had your number listed as an emergency contact in case we couldn’t contact his parents. I’ve already spoken to them, but I knew you’d want to know as well. And I didn’t want them to have to be the ones to tell you.”

  I think of Jim’s parents, who I’ve only met a few times over the years at various military functions and once at the rehab center. They were sweet, caring people. Jim was their only child.

  My eyes sting, the tears threatening to spill over at any moment. I thank the doctor again, quickly getting off the phone before I break down. As I toss it on the bed, a soft knock comes at the door.

  Emma’s head peeks in. At the sight of her, the barricade crumbles, and my tears fall. She rushes to my side, pulling me to her.

  I cry into her shoulder as she rubs circles into my back, her soothing voice trying to calm me with words I can’t make out through the din in my ears.

  Once I’m able to find my voice, I locate her eyes with my own.

  “Jim died.”

  Her breath catches, her hand raising to her mouth in attempt to cover her shock.

  “Oh my god, Isaiah. I’m so sorry.”

  I nod. “Fever got too high. Caused him to have a seizure. Doc says he passed quickly.”

  She places her hand on mine, caressing it with her fingers. “You want to go home?”

  I nod. “Can you go tell my family we’re leaving? I don’t think I can handle seeing anyone right now.”

  She quickly climbs off the bed. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

  Within minutes she’s back, and we’re leaving through the back. She takes my truck keys, and I climb into the passenger seat, resting my head against the cool window. The crisp autumn air feels good against my flushed, overheated skin. Emma backs out, and I close my eyes, getting lost in my thoughts.

  I think of Jim. Of his smart ass personality. Of his bravery. His leadership. His friendship. I think of his final words to me. He told me it wasn’t my fault. That I needed to forgive myself. Like he knew what was coming. That after today, we’d never see each other again. He wasn’t bullshitting with me. He was saying goodbye.

  A familiar feeling creeps over me. My fingers tremble as I squeeze them into fists, trying to thwart the panic rising in my body. My head swims, my lips tingling as I fight to control my breathing. But it’s no use.

  I haphazardly pull open the center console, riffling through the papers and debris that have accumulated in there over the past year, but I know they aren’t there. I know, because last week I took the pills out, placing them on a shelf in my medicine cabinet. I hadn’t had a panic attack in weeks. I didn’t think I’d need them. Little had I known only a few short days later, I’d be curled up on the seat of my truck as terror ravaged my body.

  Emma pulls over when she sees me slink down in the seat, folding in on myself. She unbuckles her seatbelt, sliding across the seat, and pulling my head in her lap.

  “Please,” I beg her. “Please get me home.”

  I slide my head off her lap, folding my arms over it as more tears form. I can’t catch my breath. My chest aches. I wonder if maybe this time it isn’t a panic attack. Maybe now that I’ve thoroughly fucked up Jim’s life—fucked it up to the point of death—maybe now the universe has decided it’s time for me to go too. Now that I have something I want to live for. I took Mary and Dan’s only son from them. It would only be what I deserve to lose what matters most to me now.

  My heart hammers in my chest. Emma scoots away from me, throwing the truck into drive and speeding down the road. What feels like a million years later—when in actuality, it must’ve been only minutes—we finally pull into my driveway. I sit up, throwing open the door so I can bolt into the house and get what I so desperately need.

  Instead, I see Emma’s porch. I sink back. “Emma, I need to go home. I need my pills.”

  She ignores me, climbing out of the truck and racing into the house. I watch her in shock.

  Apparently, even if I’m not dying, I’m going to lose the woman I love. I’ve never seen her move so fast. She was running as if her life depended on it. Like she was running from something.

  Me.

  I punch the dashboard, rage joining in with my panic. I’m so fucking angry. I’m so fucking scared. I’m so fucking worthless. I claw at my head, wishing I had hair to pull on. I need something. Something physical to rival this pain I’m feeling inside.

  Just then, the driver’s side door flings open, and Jasper leaps into the truck. He’s in my lap, chin on my shoulder and his heavy body leaning against mine before I even know what’s happening. I shove at him, wanting him off me. I don’t want to accidentally hurt him while this fucking madness is overtaking me.

  He holds firm, anchored to me. Putting all his weight against my chest, he nuzzles his face against my neck, a soft whimper emanating from his chest. At the small, sad sound, my arms circle around him. I bury my face into his thick fur, soaking it with my tears. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t make another sound. He simply lets me hold him, his reassuring presence soothing my aching soul.

  I have no idea how much time passes. At some point, Jasper and I lay across the bench seat, his warm body curled against mine. I think I may even fall asleep for a bit. When I wake, I’m groggy. My eyes are heavy and swollen from my tears. And my hands are still trembling, as if unable to fight off the last residual throes of panic. I drop a kiss to the top of Jasper’s head. He perks up, his face craning around to lick my cheek.

  I sit up. It’s pitch black outside. I try to make out the time on my watch, but it’s too dark. I climb out of the truck, Jasper jumping out beside me. The cool air that had been so refreshing before now bites into my skin. It’s cold.

  Wondering if Emma has gone to bed, I make my way to her porch. Placing my hand on the doorknob, I’m about to turn it to see if it’s locked when her voice startles me.

  “You okay?”

  I look over, seeing her wrapped in a blanket on the porch swing in the corner, Maggie by her side. I walk over, leani
ng against the siding as I cross my arms over my chest.

  “I am now. You shouldn’t be out here though. It’s freezing.”

  She shivers in response. “I couldn’t go in there. Not while you were out here. I had to make sure you were okay.”

  She slides over, patting the seat beside her. I close the few short steps between us, sitting beside her, and putting an arm around her shoulder. I pull her against me, hoping to warm her.

  Maggie jumps down, plodding over to lay next to where Jasper sits on the welcome mat.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that,” I say quietly.

  She lifts her head up, her face inches from mine. In the soft light coming from the living room window, I can see the furrow of her brow. “Don’t ever apologize to me for something like that, Isaiah. I only wish I could’ve done more for you. I felt so helpless.”

  “You were wonderful. You knew what I needed better than I did.”

  She lifts her face up, pressing her lips briefly to mine. She pulls back, a cautious look in her eyes. I run my finger down her cheek, tracing the outline of her lips. Burying my hand in her hair, I pull her mouth back to mine.

  Her warm breath invades my mouth, breathing a new life into my lungs. Adjusting our position so she’s leaning back against the armrest and I’m blocking her body from the cold with my own, I deepen the kiss. My tongue breaches her lips, licking at their seam. She opens for me without hesitation, her sweet tongue tangling with my own. I press my chest flush against her, needing more contact. I need to be close to her. I can never be close enough to this woman.

  And like deja vu, Jasper barks, putting the brakes on our kiss. I groan, burying my face into Emma’s neck.

  “That dog is such a cockblocker.”

  Emma giggles. I raise my head, looking into her eyes, still swimming with heat and desire.

  I brush her hair back behind her ear, leaving my hand cupping her cheek. I search her face, looking for any trace of uncertainty or doubt, but I see nothing. Nothing but love and tenderness. I press my lips gently to her forehead.

  “I love you, Emma Nicholls.”

  My mouth opens, but I’m unable to make a sound.

  For the past few months, I’ve known I was falling for Isaiah Wright. And being with him these past few weeks, seeing him first with my friends and then his family today, well it only solidified what I’d been feeling. But I’d known it would be a while before he’d be able to reciprocate those feelings. I’d been prepared to wait for him.

  What I wasn’t prepared for was for him to be the first one to say those words. And now that they’re out there, I never want to hear another word in my entire life. Because nothing will ever be able to top those five words.

  I close my mouth, clearing my throat, trying to keep the joyous tears from welling in my eyes. Isaiah’s lips purse. He presses them to my forehead again before pulling away.

  “I don’t expect you to say it back. I know I’ve got a lot of work to do before I’m ever even close to being deserving of your love, but I needed you to know. You’re everything to me, Em. And I hope someday I can be worthy—”

  I close my lips over his, cutting off his words. He smiles against my mouth.

  “So does this mean you’re not mad at me?”

  “Mad at you?” I ask incredulously. “Why on Earth would I be mad at you?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. I was a mess earlier. I pushed you away. Then I confessed my undying love. I wouldn’t blame you if you were a little irritated at my mood swings.”

  I shake my head, taking his face in both of my hands. “You were not a mess. You had found out your friend died. That’s hard on anybody. And you didn’t push me away. You asked me to help you in the best way you knew how.”

  He smiles at me, relief filling his expression. I drop my hands from his face, placing them on his shoulders instead. I knead my fingers into the muscles there, feeling him relax against my touch, seeing his eyes drifting shut.

  “And I could never be mad at you for loving me,” I whisper, “because I love you too.”

  His eyes fly open, looking at me as if he isn’t sure he heard me right. I nod, smiling at him.

  “I’ve been in love with you for months, Isaiah. I wasn’t sure how to tell you. I didn’t want you to feel like I was rushing this, because I will wait however long it takes. I don’t care if we ever get married. Or have kids. Or whatever. I only need you.”

  He’s on his feet before I know it, scooping me up in his arms as I giggle. Our movement is awkward, the blanket binding my arms and tangling in his feet, but between the two of us, we manage to get the front door open, Jasper and Maggie almost knocking us over in their haste to get inside. He moves toward the couch, but I shake my head.

  “No, my bedroom. Upstairs. Second door on the right.”

  He hesitates. I run my fingers up his back, laying my head against his chest as I listen to the beat of his heart. It sounds as erratic as my own. I press my lips against his neck, urging him forward.

  He carries me up the stairs, bumping the door open with his foot. He walks over to the bed, carefully setting me down before turning to close the door. I see the unspoken question in his eyes.

  I shake my head. “Joey is out for the night.” I hadn’t known Joey wasn’t going to be here tonight, but after grabbing Jasper and taking him to Isaiah, I’d made a quick sweep of the house. Six dogs. No Joey.

  Now that it was past midnight, I knew he wouldn’t be making it home tonight. Probably with another one of his dates. Grimacing, I push the thought away, and I focus all my attention back on Isaiah.

  He leans back against the closed door. His eyes scan me on the bed. I feel a little self-conscious. My hair hasn’t been brushed in hours. My shirt is rumpled from the day’s activities and the hours spent curled up on the porch swing with Maggie. And glancing at my pants, I see a smudge of chocolate on my jeans, no doubt from Vanessa’s tiny fingers.

  I’m pretty much the definition of a hot mess, but the heat flooding Isaiah’s eyes as I bite my lip in displeasure at my appearance is unmistakable. He stalks across the room, his fingers immediately tangling in my hair as he settles himself over me.

  He crashes his mouth down on mine, his kiss hungry, demanding. I claw at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine.

  He breaks the kiss for a moment, allowing me to lift the shirt over his head and toss it to the floor. His lips are back on mine before I’m even able to get a good look at him. So instead, I explore him with my hands.

  I run my hands up his smooth back, the feel of his tight muscles incredible against my fingertips. Each slide of his hand down my body inflames me, heat coursing through my limbs. When he cups my breast, I feel like my heart will pound right out of my chest. His touch has me shaking, a whimper escaping my lips, and it’s all I can do to rush and free myself from my clothing. I need more. More of his touch. More of his kisses. More of him.

  He props himself up, watching as I remove my shirt. When my hands move to the back clasp of my bra, his eyes flash. As soon as my fingers spring the clasp, his hand comes down on the material, tearing it away from my body.

  His eyes fall to my bare breasts, his breath hitching. He doesn’t move. Taking his hand, I bring it to my chest. The moment his rough, callused hand touches my smooth, delicate skin, I lose myself. I’m no longer Emma Nicholls. He’s no longer Isaiah Wright. No, when we’re together like this, we’re both something different. Something more. Something better. We’re no longer two individuals. We’re one. We’re us.

  Isaiah trails kisses down my neck, leaving my skin tingling and electric in his wake. He pulls my nipple into his mouth, grazing it gently with his teeth. It’s been so long since someone’s touched me this way. I almost climax from the feel of his mouth on my breast, but he pulls back, teasing me with his tongue, his lips, and his breath. I arch my back into him, wanting more. Needing more.

  He laughs softly against my skin, the vibration only heightening the sensation
. I rub my thighs together, desperate for relief from the throbbing ache building between my legs. Isaiah moves his hand to my hip, stilling my movement.

  I don’t breathe as he trails his fingers against the waistband of my jeans. Reaching the button, he deftly unsnaps it, making quick work of the zipper. He slides the material down my thighs, leaving my body bare to him besides a small pair of panties.

  This time, I don’t have to move his hand for him. He runs the back of a finger up over my panties, directly over my clit. I shudder. Leaning down to cover my mouth with his own again, his kiss is greedy as he slips his fingers under the seam of my panties.

  The feel of his bare skin on me is unreal. He brushes his thumb once over my clit before he plunges a finger inside me. Slowly, he slides it back out, bringing the wetness with it. His finger circles my clit once, and I’m done for.

  My entire body ignites. I arch my back off the bed as I moan into his mouth, pumping my hips against his hand. Just as I’m coming down from my high, his finger is back inside me, stretching me. He slides a second one in, and it feels so fucking good. I rock against him, chasing another release right on the cusp of my last one.

  I can feel it building again when he stills. My eyes open, my vision clouded by lust and orgasms. His eyes are on my face, scanning every feature. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

  He bends and pulls my earlobe between his lips. “You are fucking gorgeous when you come.”

  His fingers take up their thrusting as he says these words, and I’m thrown over the edge once more.

  He settles himself beside me once I’m able to breathe again, pulling my back against his chest. I roll over, looking him in the eye.

  “That’s it?” I ask.

  He laughs. “I just gave you two orgasms. And you’re asking me if that’s it?”

  I pull myself out of his arms, sitting up on the bed. Removing the blanket from his lower half, I see what looks to be a huge erection straining against the fly of his jeans.

  “What about that?”

  He cocks an eyebrow at me. “What about that?”