by M. S. Parker
It was then that I realized how different it was to have another soldier ask the question instead of a civilian. Here was someone who actually understood.
“You hear about a fire down here in March?” I asked. The moment I saw the flicker in his eyes, I knew he had. I pulled aside the hood of my sweatshirt enough so that he could see some of the scar tissue.
“I'm guessing that's not all of it,” he said.
I shook my head. “No. There's plenty more. Had some broken bones too.” I jerked my chin toward his missing arm. “What about you?”
“Three years ago,” Snyder said. “I was in Kabul. Sniper took out two of my guys, then blasted through my elbow. When I came to, another three guys were dead and my arm was gone.”
“Damn,” I said.
Snyder shrugged. “I was angry for a while, especially after my discharge.”
“And now?” I asked. And it was more than just wanting to know how he was doing. I wanted to know how he'd done it. How he'd moved past what happened. He wasn't some doctor or a shrink who didn't understand. It wasn't even like Kipp who had at least served but had made it out relatively unscathed.
“It's something I'm still working through,” Snyder admitted. “There are still days when I'm angry, especially when there's something that needs two hands, or if someone acts like an ass, but most days, I'm okay. You gotta have the support system though. You can't really do it alone.”
Something I was starting to realize too late.
“Well, it was great seeing you,” Snyder said. “But I have to go. I just flew in from a consulting job in DC, and the fiancée is already waiting at the florist.”
“You're engaged?” I asked.
His entire face lit up. “Emma. She's amazing, and definitely my biggest supporter.”
“Congratulations,” I said sincerely.
“Thanks.” He opened the back door to the cab. “It was good seeing you again, X.” He paused, and then added, “Piece of advice: don't let this define you.”
I watched as the taxi pulled away and approached the next one. I got into the back and gave the driver the address to the diner. I didn't say anything else, too wrapped up in my encounter. Snyder hadn't said anything about how his own injury was so much worse than mine, how at least I had the use of both my hands, how it was possible for me to hide what happened. He'd lost men, his arm, his job, and now he was getting married and was able to smile. He hadn't sugar-coated things, hadn't told me that things were going to magically get better. But he'd given me hope for a future.
A future I hoped would include Nori.
Chapter Four
Nori
I hadn't been this bone-tired since...I didn't know when. I'd spent the entire day at the hospital, making sure my parents were settled in the same room, talking with the doctors and nurses who were on the floor. I knew some of them, which helped, but I hadn't wanted to leave until my mom woke up. When she finally had, I got the rest of the story, punctuated by annoyed interjections from Dad.
Not exactly the least stressful day I'd ever had.
And Tanner had been there through all of it. He'd given me privacy when I needed it, but had been by my side when I needed that too. He never pushed, never questioned what I needed. Instead, he'd done what he'd always done. He'd given me strength and protected me.
Even to the point where he protected me from myself.
After the hospital had served a decidedly unappetizing dinner of what I assumed was supposed to be meatloaf, both of my parents had fallen asleep, leaving Tanner and me sitting in a relatively quiet room. That had been when he'd told me that I needed to get something to eat.
I wrinkled my nose at the congealing meat on my parents' trays. “Yeah, not exactly the most appetizing thing I've seen.”
“Not that,” Tanner said. He stood and held out his hand to me. “Real food. And rest.”
I shook my head. “I have to stay here.”
He moved to crouch down in front of me, his expression both concerned and firm at the same time. “No, you have to take care of yourself or you won’t be any use to them.”
I frowned at him but didn't pull away my hands when he took them. It was nice to have the physical contact.
“The doctor said they can be released tomorrow, right?”
I nodded even though he didn't need me to since he'd been right there when I'd talked to them.
“So if you've eaten only this hospital stuff, and tried to sleep in one of those chairs after I'm betting you didn't sleep on the plane, how much help do you think you're going to be tomorrow?”
Dammit. I hated it when he was right and all logical about it.
“And you know that the two of them will argue about whatever plan you come up with to take care of them.”
Again, dammit.
“To face all of that, you need food, a shower, and a good night's sleep.”
I raised my eyebrow. “You didn't mention the shower before.”
He gave me a wry smile as he stood. “I didn't think it'd be polite.”
I glared at him, but he'd made his point. That my parents were doing well enough that an overnight stay was all they needed was good news, but that didn't make what would come next any easier.
Neither one of them would be able to do much for themselves for at least two months, and I had no clue what I was going to do about it. But, as Tanner had said, I wouldn't be in any position to make important decisions, or even suggestions, unless I took care of myself.
I reached out and took Tanner's hand. “All right. Lead on.”
An hour later, I was wrapped in my mom's fluffy pink robe, my dripping wet hair pulled back into a messy bun, and I walked out into the most delicious-smelling kitchen. Tanner had been busy while I was in the shower.
“I found some leftovers,” he said. “I figured it'd be better to eat this tonight and then if you needed to order food, you could do it tomorrow.”
“Good call,” I said as I walked over to the oven. I took a deep breath. Mom's roast chicken. My stomach rumbled and I was suddenly aware of how hungry I was. I didn't even want to think about the last time I'd had a real meal.
“Your mom doesn't cook often,” Tanner said. “But when she does, it's amazing.”
I pulled plates out of the same place they'd been since she'd moved in, handing them over to Tanner like we'd done this a hundred times. “She used to do it all the time...before. Back then, she only had a part-time job, so she'd always be home to make supper and we'd all eat together.”
Tanner reached over and put his hand over mine, giving it a squeeze. “Maybe this will end up being a good thing in the long run. Force your parents to start dealing with their own shit for a change.”
“Maybe,” I said. I didn't want to get my hopes up, not when everything else had been going so horrible recently. For right now, all I wanted was to eat as much of my mom's home-cooking as I could, go stretch out on the couch, and go to sleep.
I'd worry about the rest of it tomorrow.
As usual, Tanner seemed to sense what I was thinking, what I needed, and he didn't say anything else. We moved around the kitchen in silence, piling foods on our plates, getting wine from the fridge. Mom didn't do beer or hard liquor, but she did like a glass or two of wine with dinner or before bed. I didn't want to get drunk, but relaxing was definitely a good idea. I knew all too well that a busy brain would keep me awake, no matter how tired I was.
We went over to the couch instead of the table and settled there. I considered turning on the television, but nonsense had been playing in the background in my parents' room and in the waiting rooms pretty much all day, and I didn't feel like hearing any more of it. Most people thought of hospitals as places of peace and quiet for the residents, but it wasn't quiet at all. No, this was quiet. Only the gentle clinks of the silverware on our plates and that was it.
When Tanner finally broke the silence, it was to say something sensible.
“Music?”
Again
, he knew exactly what I needed. I nodded. “Thank you.”
Mom didn't have a sophisticated sound system, but she did have the smartphone port I'd bought her for Christmas last year, so I handed over my phone, and Tanner plugged it in. A few seconds later, my favorite classical music began to play. Between that and the alcohol, some of my tension began to ease. Maybe I'd be able to get to sleep tonight after all.
“I'll take care of this,” Tanner said as he picked up our plates and carried them over to the sink.
“You don't have to do that.” Now that I was clean and fed – and a tiny bit buzzed – I was starting to feel guilty about how much Tanner was doing for me.
“I don't mind,” he said. “You've had a rough time. Sit back and relax.”
I considered protesting, but I was really comfortable, so I curled up and watched him. I'd always enjoyed watching him, but this time, there was nothing sexual about it. For four years, I'd thought he was the sexiest man I'd ever seen. Every move he made had turned me on. I hadn't been able to watch him without feeling that twist of arousal in my stomach.
Until now.
He was still handsome, and kind, and everything else I'd fallen in love with. But I felt nothing other than friendship for him. I was grateful he was here, so I didn't have to go through this alone, but I also felt no need to ask him to stay the night, or to offer any other comfort.
“Will you be okay here alone?” he asked as he dried the last plate and put it away.
I nodded. “Thank you for everything you did, Tanner. I couldn't have gotten through any of this without you.”
He gave me a soft smile. “Anytime you need anything, you can count on me, Nori. Doesn't matter what it is, or if it's been twenty years since we've talked. I'll always be here when you need me.”
He came over to the couch and kissed the top of my head.
“I'll keep you updated on how my parents are doing,” I promised as he straightened, but before he could respond, someone knocked at the door. I gave Tanner a puzzled look. “Did you tell anyone I was coming back?”
He shook his head. “Maybe someone at the hospital saw you or word got around.”
That was possible, I supposed, but I didn't know why any of them would be coming here. If anything had happened to my parents, they would've called me in. I stood.
“I can get it,” Tanner said. “I was on my way out.”
“I'm fine,” I said as I walked past him to the door. “You can be my back-up.”
He chuckled as I opened the door.
And froze.
“What are you doing here?”
Chapter Five
Xavier
Nori's question hung in the air between us, and I couldn't answer it because I was too busy staring at her. She was wearing a fluffy pink robe that was tight enough to highlight her curves and make me suspect that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her hair was wet and pulled back, but a few strands had escaped, framing her face.
“Is everything okay?”
A man's voice came from behind her, and I wasn't surprised to see Tanner step up.
My heart fell, and I cursed myself for allowing any sort of hope to take root. I should have known better. I'd fucked up so many times with her that I'd run out of chances. Even if I hadn't, I didn't deserve her forgiveness, much less anything else. I hadn't realized that a part of me was still holding on to the hope that Father O'Toole had given me until Tanner's presence broke it.
Everything I'd feared had come true. I'd lost her for good.
Except I hadn't really had her in the first place, I reminded myself. She'd never been mine in any real way; I'd made sure of that. Now it was time to reap what I'd sown.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. Heat flooded my already overly-warm face. “I shouldn't have come. You're busy.”
“Stay.”
To my complete shock, it wasn't Nori who said it. Tanner stepped by her and out the door. He paused in front of me, using those extra two inches of height to look down at me. There was no contempt in his eyes, but no pity either. He looked at me like an equal, which I didn't get. How could I ever be equal with someone like him?
“You two need to talk,” he said. “And Nori will probably say that this isn't my place, but I don't care. If you hurt her, I will make sure you regret it.”
“I already do,” I said quietly. “And if I do it again, you won't need to come after me.”
His eyes met mine and I forced myself to hold his gaze. I felt him measuring me, and I knew I'd come up wanting. I didn't need him to tell me that I didn't deserve Nori. I already knew that, better than anyone. He didn't say that though. In fact, he didn't say anything else. He merely glanced at Nori, nodded, and then walked out.
“What are you doing here?” she repeated her question.
I stuck my hands in my pockets. “Can I come in?”
She stepped aside and made a sweeping gesture with her arm. I walked in and pulled down my hood, breathing a sigh of relief. I was still hot, but at least now I could feel the air conditioning on my face. I ran my fingers through my hair, fixing it so that it fell over the left side.
“I came to apologize,” I said.
When I turned, I found her standing in the same place, her arms crossed, a blank expression on her face. Apparently, she wasn't going to make this easy on me, and I couldn't really blame her.
I opened my mouth and then realized that I had absolutely no clue what to say. How was I supposed to tell her all of the ways I'd royally fucked up, and how sorry I was for it? There didn't seem to be any real words that were adequate enough.
“Dammit!” I ran my hand through my hair again, this time not caring that it moved back from my face. “I don't know what I'm supposed to say.”
“How about the truth?” Nori's voice was unreadable. “That might be a good place to start.”
“The truth.” I barked a laugh. “How about I'm an ass?”
She raised an eyebrow but didn't argue.
“My whole life, I've felt like everything was my fault,” I admitted. If I was going to do this, she deserved to know it all. “I never told you what happened to my mom and sister.”
She looked confused by what she saw as a change of subject, but didn't tell me to hurry up, so I continued with my story.
“I told you about getting arrested for dealing, and that I turned on my dealer, but I didn't say that one of his acts of retribution was to have my mother and sister murdered.”
Her hands went over her mouth, horror written across her face. “Oh, X.”
I shook my head. “I'm not saying this to get sympathy or anything like that. I'm telling you because, my whole life, I've felt like I was being punished. First, for not saving them from my dad, and then for getting them killed. Part of the reason I enlisted was because I felt like I'd finally be doing some good, making amends. I never expected to get anything in my life to make me happy.”
My heart was racing now. I'd never been one to talk about my feelings with women. Ever. It was one of the many reasons I'd always preferred the occasional one-night stand. No need to discuss a future or even feelings beyond attraction and wanting sex. Once it was clear that there wouldn't be anything else, there was no need for any sort of deep discussion.
“When I met you, Nori, all of that changed. I tried to fight it, told myself that I didn't deserve you. When you were with Tanner, it was easier because I knew there'd never be anything between us. But then you came to Philadelphia, and you were single and I couldn't stop thinking about you.”
She walked past me and sat down on the couch. As she passed, I noticed what I hadn't seen before. Her eyes were red, and her skin pale. She was really upset. My heart twisted painfully in my chest. I couldn't believe I'd done this to someone I cared about so much.
“The night Father O'Toole died.” My voice caught on the word. “It was one of the worst things that ever happened to me, and then you were there, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
&nb
sp; She looked down at her hands.
“Yesterday morning, when I woke up and you were still there in my arms, it was like every horrible thing I'd ever done came rushing back, telling me that I didn't deserve this at all, that I didn't deserve to have you.” I paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “That dark, self-destructive part of me told me that you'd just felt sorry for me. I knew that you'd never do that, but I couldn't quite bring myself to believe that you could really want me.”
She sniffed and I looked down. Shit. She was crying.
I wanted nothing more than to sit down next to her, wrap my arms around her and tell her that I'd never hurt her again. After what I'd done, though, I had no right to touch her.
“When you didn't talk to me yesterday, I thought that you just needed some time to cool off, that I'd be able to talk to you this morning but you were gone.” I didn't try to hide the pleading in my voice. “Please come back to Philadelphia. Let's work this out, even if it means you just working at the house. I can't lose you, Nori.”
She raised her head, something flashing in her eyes. “You think I left because you were behaving like an asshole?”
Confused, I nodded.
“Don't get me wrong, the thought crossed my mind, but do you really think I'd be so petty to run away because you hurt my feelings?”
“You said you couldn't work for me anymore,” I said as my mind raced to try to catch up with whatever she was thinking.
“Yes,” she said. “But I never would've just walked out without another word. Especially not with everything you had going on with Father O'Toole. No matter how much you pissed me off, I would've at least stayed for the funeral.”
I shook my head. “I don't understand.”
“No.” She sighed. “You don't, because you never bothered to ask why I left. Did you even think to call me?”
Heat flooded my face. “No. I didn't think you'd answer.”
“I probably wouldn't have,” she said. “Not until I got back here, but not because I was angry or hurt. Honestly, until you showed up here, I hadn't really been thinking about any of that. I was a bit more concerned with my parents.”