by KB Winters
Then it happened, we hit the half-mile marker to our second to last destination where we would each undergo a lengthy debriefing about the mission. Then we would all be headed stateside for a nice long break. But instead of detailed questions and answers, we hit a fucking roadside bomb and then there was chaos as the vehicle flipped on its side, the loud explosion and sounds of crunching medal drowned out everything for long seconds as I struggled to see right in front of my eyes. As the smoke began to clear, along with my hearing, the sounds of several brothers screaming in pain came in loud and clear.
I crawled on my hands and knees behind the transport vehicle and aimed beyond the smoke, in the direction of incoming fire. I yelled but no words came out, and worse, no one answered. When my gun was empty, I reloaded and emptied it again, and again until I was out of ammo. The fucking shooting never stopped so I quickly crawled to a fallen brother, grabbing his weapon and ammo before taking cover behind the overturned vehicle again.
I knew what happened next. I’d had this dream enough times to know a pair of black feet would appear in the smoke, moving closer. But this time I wouldn’t just wake up, I’d fight the fucker. I had the ammo so I squeezed the trigger but, goddammit, it wasn’t hitting him so I dropped the gun and charged. I usually woke up at this point so I didn’t know what the fuck to do but wrap my hands around his neck and squeezed even though I couldn’t see his face. I could only feel his hands smacking and scratching at my arms.
“Max, please. Let go. It’s me. It’s Jana.”
I heard the voice and felt the small, delicate hands squeezing my arms, scratching at me but I couldn’t stop.
“Max! Let go, Max!” Fingernails sliced through my arm and I squeezed harder. “Max, please!”
It was that tearful plea that pulled me from a sleeping nightmare and into a real life, waking nightmare. “Jana.” My eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness and all I could see was her red, tear-stained face, big brown eyes filled with fear and sympathy. “Jana, shit. What the fuck?” I sat on top of her, my hands wrapped around the delicate slope of her neck. I was off her in an instant, chest heaving as horror ripped through me. “Shit. Goddammit! I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said softly, her voice shaky with tears. “Are you all right, Max?”
“I should be asking you that. Shit, Jana, I could’ve killed you.” And my own hands shook as that reality settled over me like hot, wet blanket. “Shit, I could have fucking killed you.”
“But you didn’t, Max. Is this still happening every night?” How could she sit there and look at me like that, brown eyes filled with concern for me, instead of herself.
It caused a squeezing sensation in my chest but it also pissed me off. “Don’t worry about me, Jana. Worry about yourself.”
She flinched at my words. “Don’t tell me what I can care or worry about, Max. Is this why you don’t stay the night?”
“What do you think?” I had my jeans on but unfastened, arms crossed as I looked at her.
“I think this is bullshit. Is this how you plan to live your life, Max?” The plea in her voice nearly undid me, but I had to stay strong. No matter what.
“What difference does it make? This is why I don’t stay here, Jana. I’m trying to protect you!”
She shook her head, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, completely unashamed of her nudity. Even as anger and terror seared the blood in my veins, I couldn’t help but appreciate her form. Short with curves for days, she was a gorgeous woman, but the sight of those dusky raspberry nipples made my mouth water. And I knew I needed to leave. “Bullshit. You’re trying to protect yourself, Max. I can’t do anything but accept it.”
Suddenly her anger and frustration were gone. Worry still darkened her deep brown eyes but her shoulders fell as though she was giving up. “That’s all I’m asking you to do, dammit.”
She gave a short nod, looking like a wounded damn puppy as she slipped into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. I should’ve waited for her to come out so we could discuss this like adults, but I couldn’t. Thoughts of how close I’d come to genuinely hurting her had me quickly dressing and rushing through the front door without a look back.
I hopped on my bike and went home, calling Dr. Singh to see if he could fit me in for an emergency session. I needed space to figure my shit out, so I packed a bag, hopped on my bike and drove until my eyes were too heavy to keep going.
I woke up a few hours later and did it all over again.
Chapter 14
Jana
After spending the day doing quarterly reports for several clients, I snuck in a quick workout and then got busy on the dinner I wanted to cook for Max. After radio silence for a full week, he’d finally called to say he wanted to talk and though I was upset that he’d vanished after the weirdest morning of my life, I agreed that we needed to talk. I’d gotten fresh seafood from the market so I decided to mix it up with paella and grilled sardines with a Greek salad. It wasn’t fancy but it was hearty and I was starving. And if this thing went sideways, I’d have lots of food to feed a broken heart.
As I got dressed though, I couldn’t help but think about my conversation with Teddy. I knew that time was running out and I would have to say something to Max. My hands shook at the idea of things ending between us. I didn’t want that to happen, but something had to change.
When Max rang the bell, I pulled it open with a smile, only to be met with a half-smile, half-scowl and a half-hearted greeting. “Hey,” I finally said as all the anticipation inside of me deflated. It became clear as I poured the Sangria that this night wasn’t going to go the way I thought it would. I cranked the heat from a low simmer to a straight up boil to speed things along. “Ready to eat?”
“I could eat.” His voice was blanked of all emotion, like a robot had replaced the man I thought I knew.
Something was definitely going on and if I were a betting woman, I’d say it had something to do with me. Or more accurately, with us. I felt the air shift when he came into the kitchen, but I didn’t turn, instead listening as he pulled out a chair and dropped down into it. “How are you, Max?”
“I’m fine, Jana. You?”
I sighed and gave a mumbled, “Fine.” I was a woman who knew when to cut her losses and tonight counted as a lost fucking cause. When the food was ready, I plated it up and left the sardines on a large plate because there was no way in hell I would sit through a painfully silent meal I’d spent the better part of an hour preparing. “Let’s eat and watch a movie I told him,” taking the sardines, napkins and flatware into the living room without waiting for an answer.
Max said nothing, just grabbed the glasses along with the rest of the sangria and took a seat on the middle cushion of the sofa.
With a big sigh, I found a shoot’em up movie on Netflix and put it on, getting lost in my own thoughts as I ate. Gunshots provided the perfect soundtrack for my tumultuous thoughts, which were mostly centered on the man beside me. Clearly Max hadn’t been sleeping well because each time I saw him, the dark circles under his eyes were a darker shade of purple. Today they were practically black, yet he said nothing.
“You want more?”
I looked at him holding the sardines and shook my head. “All yours.” By the time the movie was over, my hunger wasn’t sated and all the excitement and anticipation I’d built up at seeing Max again had vanished. Tonight, I actually wanted him to go home. Now. “Are you staying here tonight?”
I knew before he even answered, based on the tense set of his shoulders and the way his jaw clenched. And based on the past month or more of experience. “Nah, I have to be up early tomorrow for some stuff.”
Stuff. Right. I stood and grabbed the plates, stacking them and taking them to the kitchen. I returned for the rest, leaving my own glass and pitcher right where it was, because I had a feeling I’d finish it off before bed. Max hadn’t moved so I decided against using the dishwasher, instead filling the sink with hot soapy wat
er and plunging my hands deep into it. There weren’t many to do but I took my time, trying to get my anger and frustration under control. Exploding at Max would do nothing to solve this issue between us, never mind what his other issue was today.
“What are you doing in here?”
“The dishes.”
“Why?”
I sighed and turned. “Who else is going to do them, Max? I live alone.”
“I’m leaving.”
“I heard you the first time.”
He sighed. The sound of his footsteps grew closer until the heat of his body began to envelop mine. “What is this, Jana?”
“Nothing. Look, you said you have to be up early so you should probably get going. Do you need coffee to make sure you’re okay to drive?”
“No, I don’t need fucking coffee. Just tell me what the hell is going on?” His hands landed on my shoulder and I tensed even though my body wanted to lean into his, feel the hot, hard heat of his body. But I couldn’t. Nothing felt right anymore and I just wanted to cry.
“Nothing is going on with me, Max. You showed up when clearly you didn’t want to be here and now you have to get up early, so I’ll see you whenever.”
“What the hell does that mean?” His voice roared in my small kitchen, making me jump.
“It doesn’t matter, Max.” I pulled the drain on the water and turned. “Good night.” My pulse raced as I looked up at him, those big gray eyes dark as gun metal and as intense as a hurricane. I loved him, but a love like this might kill me. He stared at me for a long time before he nodded, turned on his heels and left.
I changed into a long t-shirt that came just below my knees before curling up on the sofa with the rest of my sangria. Reality came crashing down at the bottom of the third glass. I thought Max and I were building something, working towards a real relationship. But we weren’t. We were nothing more than two people who spent time together and fucked. That was it. Now that I knew that painful truth, I had an even harder decision to make.
Could I live in this half of a relationship where Max slipped out of my bed each night and went home to face his demons alone? I’d have killed for someone other than an overworked social worker to help me deal with the trauma of my scars. Yet here I was, not enough.
Again.
As my eyelids grew heavy, the answer skated on the outer edges of my consciousness. I might not be the prettiest girl around, or the smartest. But I did have some self-respect left.
Mostly.
But what did self-respect matter when you were facing heartbreak for the very first time?
***
“Everything looks good as far as bookkeeping, but I noticed you aren’t taking advantage of every deduction you could, and I’ve put it in my notes so you can think about it.” I sat across from Mr. Cross inside my office, dressed like a professional in plain black pants and a black blouse, doing my best not to notice how much…man he was. Not that I was interested in him like that, but the man had a presence that was hard to ignore. He was big, really big, at least six and a half feet with the body of a linebacker. I imagined he wasn’t a man who had a hard time with the ladies. But he was a client and those thoughts were totally inappropriate. “Otherwise, Mr. Cross, your business is thriving. Congratulations.”
He grinned a sheepish sort of grin that showed off oddly boyish dimples and he scraped a hand over his short chocolate colored hair. “Thanks, and it’s just Cross. Ms. Carter.”
“Jana, please,” I said automatically because it was good to keep things semi-formal when handling people’s money. “Do you have any questions?” He shook his head and I stood to lead him out of the house when I remembered one final thing. “Have you considered taking advantage of the green tourism with shirts and bags and other things people might want as souvenirs they can actually take home with them?”
He blinked and stood. “I hadn’t, but I’ll have the guys look into it. Thank you again, Ms., ah, Jana.”
“No problem,” I told him as I pulled open the door and offered up a hand to shake. “I’ll send updates quarterly and call if anything sends up any alarm bells, okay?”
“Sounds good. Thanks again.”
“What the fuck is going on here?”
I startled at the sound of Max’s angry voice and turned to see his nostrils flaring and spitting out fire. He was spoiling for a fight. I clenched my jaws and smiled at Mr. Cross. “You’ll have to forgive my friend, apparently he’s forgotten his manners.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jana. Thanks for your help.” He gave a wave but he didn’t move and I felt like something was happening that I didn’t quite understand.
“My brother wasn’t enough? What are you, some fucking down low biker bunny?”
I sucked in a breath, and in that moment, I completely understood what people meant when they said their heart broke in half. Nothing in my life, not the attack by Robert or the greater betrayal of Karen, not even the death of my parents had hurt as much as this. Because I was too young to remember, but now it felt like a small favor. His eyes were filled with disgust, his voice dripping with hate. Mr. Cross stood between us and I tried to push him aside. “Mr. Cross, please, don’t get involved. I’m fine.”
He ignored me, glaring down at Max because as big as Max was, he was bigger. “What the fuck is your problem with me and why are you talking to Ms. Carter like that?” A giant hand landed on Max’s chest and he moved back a step.
“Ms.? Why the fuck are you calling her Ms. Carter?”
Mr. Cross frowned down at him, blue eyes as dark and angry as Max’s gray ones. “It’s her name asshole, and generally how people address those they have professional relationships with. Asshole.”
He blinked once. Twice. And I could see the moment it had all become clear because his shoulders deflated all the anger out of him, but he didn’t seem at all contrite. “Oh. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Ugh, men. I shook my head and turned on my heels, slamming the door behind me. Max was a jerk and I was the idiot who’d gone and fallen for the first guy to show me a little honest attention. As angry as I was, as much as Max’s words had hurt me, I was angrier with myself. I let myself believe that I could have something normal, something fun and light and hot. I should’ve known better.
Life had forced the lesson down my throat enough times.
I stopped in my office to save the documents again and shut down my computer for the day as the bell rang out front. Ignoring it was easy enough since I knew who it would be, but just to make it easier I went into my bedroom to change and cranked up the music. I could still hear the bell, just barely so I turned up the volume again and made my way to the kitchen.
Cooking wasn’t just a necessity, it was a great way to channel excess energy while I thought through problems, whether professional or personal. Admittedly there hadn’t been many personal problems in my life, many a professional conundrum had been resolved in my tiny kitchen. By the time I’d completely scaled the trout, the knocking and ringing had stopped.
But I kept the music on high just in case. Fish and steamed veggies wasn’t exactly exotic cuisine, but the pina colada turned it into a culinary party for one.
That didn’t sound pathetic at all.
Chapter 15
Max
Drinking to drown one’s sorrows was a young man’s game, and I hadn’t been young since I was eighteen. The nights were long and cold, and lonely as fuck, and the days were even worse because everything looked normal and bright and happy. When it shouldn’t. Because things weren’t. Things were shit.
I’d fucked up big with Jana and it was looking like she might not forgive me, at least if I went by how steadfastly she ignored my calls and my texts, and me in general. She wouldn’t answer the door, even when her car was there, and no matter how often I stopped by I couldn’t catch her coming or going. What I didn’t understand was that she seemed more upset about how I’d acted in front of Cross than the fact that my fucked up brain had nearly
killed her. That didn’t make sense, but I didn’t care, I kept trying. And failing.
So, I waited until Friday, until art class.
Only she wasn’t there and thirty minutes in, she hadn’t shown up and I knew she wouldn’t. The instructor, Moon, gave me a pitying smile that I hated as I stood up to leave, fed up with this whole fucking week. “She’s probably just taking the week off to finish up her series for the show.”
I looked at Moon, dressed in a long blue velvet dress, Birkenstock sandals and an arm full of copper bangles. She looked like a sorceress or something. “What show?”
He frowned and a wariness appeared in her gaze that I didn’t like. “It’s nothing really, just a few artists I’ve asked to donate their work to my next show.” She reached behind me and handed me a purple sheet of paper. “I hope to see you there.”
“Maybe,” I told her as I looked at the details and noted the date was just over a month away. “Thanks, Moon.”
“You’re very welcome, Max. I hope this class has helped you in some way.”
I offered up a smile at her sincere words and the hope shining in her eyes. In a way, the class had helped because it was where I met Jana, who had done a lot for me. But that’s not what she meant. “It has, Moon. Thanks.” With ten minutes before class ended, I rushed out to the street and hopped on my bike, in a hurry to get home. Where pizza and cold beer waited.
Throw in a little Netflix and I had the perfect night. Perfectly pathetic. It wasn’t how I’d spent my Friday nights lately and the contrast was killing me. Everything was so fucked up and it was all my fault. Well, not all my fault. Jana had to own some of the blame too since she’d invited Tate to dinner and then had taken a job with my club. I couldn’t quite figure out why she would do that and not tell me because I’d been sleeping for shit lately which meant I was beyond exhausted and unfocused.
I’d given up on thinking about Jana after a while because I just couldn’t take it. I put on an old sitcom that I’d missed while I was overseas and drank too much beer. Enough beer to dull the memory of how Jana had looked when I accused her of fucking my brother and club President, or the fear when my hands were clasped around her throat. There wasn’t enough beer in all of Mayhem, hell in all of Nevada.