Guarded: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

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Guarded: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) Page 11

by Rachel Leigh


  “All right then, I’ll let it go. Let’s get this garage in boxes.”

  She’s only all I think about. The memories or her have begun to cloud the thoughts of Gemma. That fucking scares me. Is this how it will always be? If I ever meet another girl again, will she replace the image of my wife in my head?

  “Earth to Nash.” Grant snaps his fingers in front of my face.

  “Huh?”

  He holds up a sleeve of socket wrenches. “I asked where you want this?”

  “In there.” I point to a large box labeled tools.

  “You’ve got it bad for this girl. I don’t care how much you lie to my face.”

  Maybe he’s right. It’s been a week since she left and each day I assume I’ll think about her less, only to think about her more. All I can hope is that she’s doing well. I’ve been wanting to call Lori and check in, mainly just to see if Rowan has made it there. She had mentioned packing up her apartment in Vegas and going to stay with Lori in Arizona for a while.

  “We slept together,” I blurt out of nowhere. “And I think I may have developed some feelings for her.” I drop my face in my hands then rub my temples. Looking up, I seek judgement. “Tell me how fucking awful I am and that I need to get this girl out of my head.”

  Grant draws in a deep breath, his mouth drawn back. “Damn, man.” He shakes his head. “That’s a tough one.”

  “Exactly. I mean, she’s Gemma’s little sister.” I repeat myself, “Gemma’s. Little. Sister. What the hell was I thinking?”

  “Tell me this, what is it that makes you think it was a mistake? Is it because you think Gemma would disapprove, or because you’re worried what people will think?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Little bit of both, I guess.”

  “If she had no connections to Gemma, would you still feel this way?”

  “It’s only been four months since Gemma died. Who moves on that fast?”

  Picking up a box and stacking it on another, Grant turns to me. “There are no rules. You have to just follow your heart. I’ve got you no matter what you decide to do. But, let me tell you, don’t let her get too far. You might never get her back.”

  Grant’s words played in my mind on repeat. Don’t let her get too far. You might never get her back. Tossing and turning with those words all night, the sun peeks through the windows, urging me out of bed for the day.

  It’s my first day back to work, and it feels pretty good to be getting back into the swing of a routine. It’s been months since I even set foot on base, and reality hits me like a glass of cold water. Life must go on. Without Gemma, and without Rowan.

  “Good to have you back.” Matthews pats a hand to my back.

  Smiling in return, I refrain from cracking a joke at his expense. That’s always been our thing. I insult him, he insults me. But this homecoming is different. I haven’t seen these boys since I left them in Bagram. While they mourned the loss of a friend, I was leaving to bury my wife.

  I glance from face to face. “You seen Rivers around?”

  “He left for the day. Schedule changes have us all messed up. He’s night shift now.”

  I feel like an ass for losing touch for so long. I’ve been living in my own bubble since July and I haven’t even bothered to check up on anyone.

  “Jacobs has been expecting you. I think he’s in the communication room,” Matthews says before he walks away.

  As soon as I open the door to the communication room, confusion sweeps through me. “What’s all this?” I chuckle, looking at the dozen people including all of my closest coworkers. Rivers is here, Sergeant Jacobs, and even Captain Riggs.

  Jacobs steps forward with a smile on his face. “Welcome back, Private Whitmore. It’s my great privilege to present to you this Medal of Honor for your sacrifice, keen eye, and quick thinking.” He ropes a blue ribbon around my neck with a brass, star-shaped medal attached to it.

  I tip my chin up. “I’m confused. I did no such thing.”

  Pretty damn sure I’d remember if I did anything that merited a Medal of Honor.

  “That man you took out on the twenty-second of July was Abdul Antar, leader of the Antiqam Initiative. After his death, it was discovered that he was planning an attack on the Lincoln Memorial on August third. You, my good friend, prevented a terrorist attack on our nation that day.”

  Thinking through the words he just said, I’m unsure if I heard correctly. “Wait. What?”

  Captain Riggs steps forward. “Antar was recruiting that morning. Watching from afar as his men carried out a mission. When his left-hand man was hit, he opened fire. That’s when you stepped in, sought him out, and ended his madness. Ultimately, saving hundreds of lives that he planned to take just days later.”

  “You’re forgetting that Jones lost his life that day because I turned a blind eye just to take down this Abdul Antar.” I take the ribbon in both hands and lift it over my head, handing it back to Jacobs. “I don’t deserve this.”

  I turn to walk away, but Captain Riggs speaks up, “As unfortunate as it is that Jones was a casualty, sometimes one person must die so another can live.”

  I turn back around slowly.

  “In this case, it was many lives. Jones gave his life for all of those people who would have lost theirs at the Lincoln Memorial. For that, he is also a hero.” His steps bring him face-to-face with me as the others stand by and watch idly. He places the ribbon back around my neck. “You earned this, Private Whitmore, whether you want to believe it or not. Allow yourself to accept it and acknowledge that you are in fact as worthy to wear this medal as you are to wear that suit.” He extends his hand to me.

  Looking down at it for a moment, I return the gesture, giving his hand a firm shake. “Thank you, Captain.”

  Everyone gives their congratulations and we stand around talking for a few minutes before the boss puts us back to work.

  I can’t get the words out of my head that Jacobs shared with me. Sometimes one person must die so another can live.

  Rowan surfaces in my mind. She was in a dark place when Gemma died. Prepared to end her life in the same way Gemma ended hers. Only Gemma acted first, opening Rowan’s eyes to a new life.

  Gemma died so Rowan could live.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rowan

  April 13, 2019

  We are doing it! We’re getting married. Nash got down on one knee today and asked me to be his wife. It was an easy YES. This man is everything I have ever wanted in my life. He’s charming, kind, romantic, and, as I’ve mentioned before, probably the sexiest man I have ever laid eyes on. I’m not sure what he sees in me, but it must be something I don’t know about.

  I talked to Rowan today. It doesn’t sound like she will be coming home for the wedding. She didn’t seem like herself. There was a calm in her voice and she wasn’t her talkative self. Part of me feels guilt for living out her dreams. While the other part of me feels envy that she’s living out mine. Who would have thought that Rowan would be the world traveler and I’d be the one settling down? Not me. In any case, marrying Nash is the right thing to do. He is my safety net, my security blanket, the only person who keeps me going each day. Things are going to get better. I’m going to get better.

  Xo Gemma

  Oh, Gemma, we should have been taking on this world together this whole time. I should have never left you after graduation. We could have fought these demons together.

  Aunt Lori pokes her head in the door and says something, but I don’t catch it in time. “What?” I lift my head up from the journal.

  Slow and steady steps lead her over to the bed where I’m lying on my stomach reading. Just like I have been for the past week. “I asked what month you are on.”

  “April. This girl had way too much time on her hands.” We both laugh. “I still don’t understand why this was so important and why Dr. Harris said that it had answers. I have nothing but more questions.”

  “Keep reading, darling.”

 
; “You know, you keep saying that and it’s only confusing me more. Do you know something?” Closing the journal, I scoot onto my butt and cross my legs in front of me.

  Aunt Lori takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “Have you talked to him?”

  I don’t have to ask who. I know exactly who she is talking about. “No, I haven’t talked to Nash.”

  Sadness wraps around my heart, squeezing it tight. I didn’t think it would be this hard, but I miss him so much. It also aches me to the core that he didn’t even care enough to say goodbye. I was expendable to him. Just a girl who walked into his life and walked out without even leaving an imprint on his heart. I really thought I was worth more than that to him. Boy, was I a fool.

  “You should call him. See how he’s doing.”

  An uncontrolled laugh escapes. “Yeah, right. I’m the last person Nash wants to talk to, and to be honest, I’m not so sure I want to talk to him.”

  “He’s hurting, honey. He’s dealt with a lot this year. A new marriage, deployment, the loss of his wife—finding you. He doesn’t know how to handle all of this.”

  “I’m sure he’s handling his feelings just fine. By handling, I mean drinking until he’s numb to emotion.”

  “But he didn’t drink like that when you were there, did he?”

  “All right, what are you getting at, Aunt Lori? I’m so tired of everyone beating around the bush. First that doctor, then Gemma in her letters, and now you. If you’re implying that Nash has feelings for me, you’re wrong. I’m here, aren’t I? He didn’t try to stop me.”

  “Maybe.” She has that sheepish grin again. “Or maybe he doesn’t just have feelings for you. Maybe he’s in love with you and it scares him.”

  Reaching over, I grab a throw pillow and toss it at her. “All right, get out of here. I need to keep reading.”

  Chuckling, she gets up and heads for the door, but stops. “If you love someone, set them free. Isn’t that how the saying goes?” She winks before exiting and closing the door behind her.

  Aunt Lori should be talking me out of this nonsense. Instead, I get the feeling that she is trying to push us together. When I told her, very vaguely, that Nash and I had a connection, she did the exact opposite of what I expected. She actually smiled and asked for details—details I did not divulge. There was no lecture about how he belonged to Gemma. No plan to flush my feelings out of my system. She encouraged me to tell him how I felt and said I might be surprised to find that he feels the same way. Yet, she hasn’t spoken to Nash in months, so why she thinks this way has me completely dumbfounded.

  July 19, 2019

  Nash hasn’t been responsive. This isn’t the first time this has happened, so I’m not jumping to conclusions. I have concluded that the towers are probably down because his buddy’s wife has not heard from her husband either. I was hopeful that I’d hear his voice one last time, but that hope diminishes with each passing day that he doesn’t call or email.

  I’m doing a pottery class tomorrow. It’s something I always wanted to do, and there is no better time than now. It will be a struggle, but I’m forcing myself to do this one last thing for myself.

  The days have been so long and I’m prepared to make my exit peacefully. Everything’s in place and the package will be delivered to Dr. Harris as scheduled. One of the main reasons that I chose Dr. Harris to handle my affairs is because of our confidentiality agreement. I know she cannot share information until she gets the death certificate, which I’ve also handled.

  I want them to have their happily ever after.

  I want Nash and Rowan to have that love they both so desperately deserve.

  Xo Gemma

  Staring meekly at the pages, I try to wrap my head around what this means. “What are you talking about, Gemma?” I mumble as I reread the last line. I want Nash and Rowan to have that love they both so desperately deserve.

  Dammit, Gemma, please just explain what you are trying to say.

  I turn the page.

  Only this time, it’s not an entry. It’s a note addressed to me.

  Rowan,

  I bet you never guessed you’d still be getting letters from me. I mean, who does that? Who leaves behind a trail of confusion that spans over months? I do. Because this was how it needed to be done. Before I dig into that, I have so much I need to say to you.

  The day after your graduation, we were standing at your car and you asked me, “If you could change one thing in your life, what would it be?” I told you that I’d go back and go to college. You were getting ready to leave. I didn’t want to open the can of worms from the past. The truth, I’d go back to the day Mom and Dad were killed in the accident and I would have taken the long way to pick you up. We never talked about it and that’s because I wouldn’t let you. Anytime you tried to ask questions I got angry. Eventually, you stopped asking. In time, we stopped talking about them altogether. It was far too painful for us both, but mostly, it was because I put up that barrier and conditioned you to never talk about it again. I have something to say that I should have said a long time ago. I’m sorry I took them away from you.

  I failed them, Rowan.

  Most importantly, I failed you.

  “No.” I wipe the tears from my cheeks. “No, you didn’t, Gemma. You didn’t fail us.”

  Yes, I did.

  Okay, now that’s creepy.

  Gemma and I both felt a tremendous amount of pain when our parents died. Not only did we lose them, but we both blamed ourselves. Gemma was driving the car that killed them, but not only that, she was driving to pick me up from ballet. We were going out for a nice family dinner before Gemma left for Costa Rica. A trip that never happened. They were running late to pick me and she convinced our parents that she knew a shortcut, only she turned and they were hit by a semi. Gemma suffered minor injuries. Dad was killed instantly, and Mom passed away a few days later.

  I’ll never forget the frustration I felt as I stood outside of the ballet studio with my instructor and waited for them. I was scared, but more so, I was angry. It wasn’t until my instructor heard the news and took me home to her house that I found out why they never came. They didn’t just forget about me like I thought, they were fighting for their lives.

  I’m not going to go into all the things I should have and could have done differently, because what matters is now.

  As I started planning my death, I started thinking about what I hoped for you and Nash in life. I want you to have each other. I want you to marry Nash. I want you to have children and grow old together. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a husband, and you are everything I wish I could have been for him. Side by side your and Nash’s dreams are a perfect line, starting and ending at the exact same place. The white picket fence and the kids were not my plan, they were yours. They were Nash’s.

  I want the two most important people in my life to chase their dreams together.

  Don’t give up on him, Rowan.

  I know there will be times that you want to because he’s as stubborn as Dad. But don’t do it.

  He needs you.

  You need him.

  This is me telling you that you have my blessing. I know that this sounds insane, and it’s possible that I am not thinking clearly. My mind has been in a fog and this idea came to me suddenly as I was planning things out. But it hit me like a tidal wave. I feel so strongly that this is meant to be. If I’m wrong and you feel nothing, then just laugh about this one day with your future husband. How your sister sent you on an adventure to find love. But if there is even the tiniest part of you that feels something for him, feel it. Don’t fight it. Fight for love.

  I love you, little sis.

  Xo Gemma

  A lump lodges in my throat. Tears drop carelessly onto the note paper and I brush them away, smearing some of the ink.

  This was her plan all along. It wasn’t so that Nash and I could build a friendship, it was because she wants us to be together.

  “Aunt Lori,” I choke o
ut. Trying again, I holler louder, “Aunt Lori, can you come here, please?”

  I turn the pages in the back of the journal to see if there is anything else, but it’s empty.

  She’s just leaving me with that. A note that tells me she wants me to marry her husband and have his babies. What the hell? There is a part of me that is angry. It’s just like Gemma to try and control the situation from her grave. To try and map out my life for me because she thinks she knows what’s best. The other part knows she means well and also feels a bit of relief that she isn’t planning to haunt me for an eternity because I slept with Nash.

  Aunt Lori opens the door and pokes her head in but doesn’t say a word.

  “You knew about this, didn’t you? That’s why you were encouraging me not to give up.”

  A devious smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. “You and Nash weren’t the only ones who got notes, honey.”

  With that, she closes the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Thoughts that are running rampant and a heart that will not slow down.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Nash

  It’s been one hundred and fifty-two days since Gemma left this world. I feel like I’m beginning to heal. Not as much as I’d hoped, but I’m done beating myself up over what I could have done differently.

  It’s been forty-seven days since Rowan left. Healing from her absence hasn’t begun yet. I’m still wrestling with emotions that took me by complete surprise. And I’m still beating myself up for letting her leave.

  Not a day goes by that I don’t think about calling her just to hear her voice. I haven’t given in to the constant nagging in my mind to just call her, but I will hear her voice soon. Christmas Eve is tomorrow and while I originally planned on flying out to Denver to see my mom and stepdad, I switched things up at the last minute.

  Instead of a ticket to Denver, I’m packing the truck up and heading to Arizona for the holidays.

 

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