SWORN TO PROTECT: An Everyday Heroes World Novel

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SWORN TO PROTECT: An Everyday Heroes World Novel Page 7

by Readnour, Kimberly

Until we meet again, brother.

  Ethan

  I fold the letter and toss it on the endtable. Rubbing my knees, I stare at nothing and feel like my life is a giant battlefield, and I’ve lost sight of my commander and team. Somewhere along the way, I’ve lost control. “Ethan, I’m trying here. But I don’t know if I can do it.”

  * * *

  I wake to rapid knocking. Scrubbing my hand over my face, I glance at my phone. Six o’clock. Who on earth would be here this early? I throw on a pair of black running shorts but don’t bother with a shirt. Whoever it is, their pounding is loud enough to wake the entire row of cottages. I snatch the gun from the bedside table and glide across the floor to the door. The moment I peek through the peephole, I lower the weapon.

  “I’ll be right there,” I say to a much calmer woman than the one who yelled at me last night. Once the gun is safely out of sight, I open the door, and my breath nearly stills. Those eyes, the same shade as the green sea glass found along Bermuda’s Black Bay Beach, stare into mine with so much conflict and regret, my heart constricts.

  “Hey.” Her soft voice glides over me, along with her gaze. The way her eyes widen and darken with lust as they rake over my chest has me wishing I grabbed that shirt. Not that I don’t enjoy her appreciation, but these shorts are too thin and will reveal exactly what that look does to me.

  “Hey,” I finally respond.

  Mackenzie lifts a cup of coffee toward me. “I come with a peace offering. I, uh, need to apologize for my behavior last night.” Her eyelashes sweep across her lower lids as if in shame before those beautiful green orbs stare up at me.

  For someone who prided himself on being strong, I sure feel weak. I open the door, allowing her to slip through, and clear my throat. “Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I should be the one to apologize. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d be okay with me packing.”

  “I hate guns.”

  I find her statement odd considering her circumstances but don’t respond. I give a reassuring nod instead, hoping she’ll explain.

  She lets out a stuttering breath and starts wringing her hands. “I, uh, never told you about my husband.”

  My mouth dries despite the sip of coffee I took. I knew this conversation would occur, but all the knowledge in the world doesn’t make me more prepared.

  “Why don’t you have a seat?” I motion toward the dated couch. She nods and takes me up on my offer, still twisting her hands. I could end her apprehension by telling her I already know her circumstances. That I already know how her husband had died. I don’t understand why Ethan wants me to remain silent. Or how keeping my identity a secret helps, but I have to follow his wishes. I owe him that much. So instead of telling the truth, I offer her bottled water.

  “I never told you I’m a widow. You may have already found out since this town doesn’t keep secrets, but my husband, Ethan, was in the army. He, uh . . .” She closes her eyes and takes another deep breath as if that motion alone will summon all the encouragement she needs to continue. “He was on a mission in Afghanistan. Something went wrong, and he ended up getting shot. The injury was fatal.”

  I’m such a prick. I sit here like a dickhead while she struggles to explain the truth I already know. It’d be so easy to come clean to her. To lay everything out there and put her at ease. Damn you, Ethan, for putting me in this situation.

  “I was never a big gun person.” She lets out a humorless laugh. “Sort of stupid of me to marry an army brat, but that’s what I did. Anyway, having guns in the house was the biggest source of our fighting. He wanted an arsenal. I didn’t want any, but knew that was too much to ask. I demanded he kept them locked up. If our boys ever got ahold of them”—a shudder works its way through her body—“I’d never forgive myself. Anyway, I went a little ballistic on you. Seeing the gun brought back too many bad memories. I know you were just protecting my kids. I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m sorry about your husband. I knew he had passed.” It’s the only bit of truth I can offer, but it doesn’t lessen the sting of my betrayal. My gaze slides over her shoulder and lands on Ethan’s letter lying on the end table. My heart nearly stops. No, no, no. She cannot discover his letter. Or worse, read his words. It would cause more harm than good. Besides, Ethan’s right. When her mom returns in a few weeks, I’m gone. Although, it may be sooner than I thought since her brother is back. My time is no longer needed. But damn, when those expressive eyes stare up at me with her slightly upturned nose that’s splattered with freckles, I’m not sure how to feel about that. I swallow past the lump of confusion forming in my throat. “Trust me. There’s no need to apologize. I understand.”

  “It’s really no excuse. Ethan used to hate it when I’d go ballistic. He’d call me a crazed bitch.”

  I feel my eyebrows rise in shock. I don’t understand how Ethan could call her that. Based upon what I’ve seen, if bitch and saint were balancing scales, she would tip it toward sainthood.

  Mackenzie must pick up on my sudden demeanor change because she quickly responds, “Not that often, I swear. But he never understood my positioning on anything. That’s why I’m finishing up nursing school now. One, I need a good job, but also because I’ve always wanted to be a nurse. Ethan wouldn’t let me.” She sets the bottle down by the letter. I watch her hand graze over the paper. I clench my coffee cup tighter to keep from snatching the damn thing up.

  “He wouldn’t let you?” I ask, seemingly confused. Why would it have been up to him if she worked?

  “No. Ethan said my job was raising the kids. He didn’t want to be bothered with any responsibility when he came home from deployments. If I had a job, he would have to help more. I went behind his back and took some online classes. That’s how I was able to start in the nursing program so quickly.”

  “Why didn’t you continue?”

  “He found out. That led to our second biggest argument.” She shakes her head. “I’m so weak. If I had stood up for myself and finished school, I wouldn’t be in this situation. Working and studying is taking up all of my time, and I feel like I can’t be there as a mom.”

  “I think you’re doing a great job.” I mean that wholeheartedly. The woman lost the love of her life and went back to school. Raising two kids on her own and juggling work and school isn’t easy. She’s a lot stronger than she gives herself credit.

  “Thanks. I’m trying, but it would be easier if the government sent me the money they owe me. Then, I wouldn’t have to work full time.”

  “What do you mean? Hasn’t the army paid you the death gratuity?” I clamp my mouth shut, attempting to rein in my temper and not come off as too knowledgeable. But damn, I figured she would have received it by now.

  “No, there’s some bullshit clerical error delaying payment. I mean, come on. Hit the transfer button, already.” She blows out a frustrated breath. “Between that and a worthless insurance policy, I’m stuck. But that’s not your problem.”

  The fuck it’s not. It’s a good thing I didn’t leave town when I contemplated it. Before I can respond, she shakes her head and speaks.

  “Now, Liam wants to sign up for soccer. I promised he could, but I don’t know where I’ll find the time. I’m going to either miss his games or practices. Maybe both. When Mom comes back from her trip, I’ll have more help, but until then, I just don’t know.”

  “What about your brother? He’ll surely help out.”

  “He’s flighty. I can’t trust him alone with the kids too long. And I definitely can’t have him driving them. Too many DUIs for my taste.”

  I stave off my flinch. Shit. I didn’t get a good vibe from the creep, but I figured that was because he broke into the kitchen window. What type of person breaks into a home as a joke? “That’s what I’m here for. That is if you still trust me.”

  Her bright green eyes bore into mine. “I trust you. I probably shouldn’t, but you haven’t given me any reason not to. Just, please don’t pack when you’re around me.”

 
“Okay.” I won’t like it, but I can agree if that’s what she wants.

  She blinks in surprise. “You don’t mind that request?”

  “No. If that’s your wish, then I have no problem complying.”

  Her mouth gapes. “Ethan would never . . .” She shakes her head. “No, it doesn’t matter. I appreciate that. Thank you.”

  My answering nod is all I can give as Mackenzie grabs her water and takes a sip. Ethan’s letter lies there, mocking me. His subtle reminder that I’m no better for her, either.

  “I know going back to school is the last thing I should be doing now.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. The way I see it, now is as good a time as any.” I can’t believe Ethan was against her continuing her education. He led me to believe she was demanding and hardheaded. I didn’t realize she was only trying to stand up for herself. Jesus, Ethan. How could you have been so blind?

  “I don’t know. Maybe Ethan’s right, and I should be there for my kids. It’s an especially hard time for them. I’m sure there’s a local job that pays more than Better Buzz and is better suited to the kids’ schedule.”

  “Hey, don’t think that. You’re improving yourself. Nothing against stay-at-home moms if that’s their choice, but you shouldn’t feel ashamed for following your dreams.”

  Appreciation coats Mackenzie’s gaze, and I swear, warmth floods my entire body. I don’t understand this visceral reaction to her. Her soft smile reveals the vulnerable side she tries so hard to hide, but I see her. Every little piece. She’s the first to break our connection. She glances around the room, taking in my belongings. “How long are you planning on staying in Sunnyville?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  She tilts her head to the side and studies me. “What do you do for a living?”

  I contemplate what to say, finally settling on freelance.

  “What’s your reason for settling in Sunnyville?”

  You. I want to say, but Ethan’s words come back to me, please honor this wish. I give the smallest bit of truth. “The path I was on became altered. I needed to straighten a few things out.”

  “Of all the places in California, why here?”

  “I grew up near San Francisco. This town seemed like a quaint, quiet place to get my head straight.”

  Straight to hell. That’s me with a one-way ticket. Do not pass go and do not collect two-hundred dollars. Christ. San Francisco is a long way from San Diego. Why’d I lie about that?

  “I come from San Francisco, originally. We moved here my senior year when Mom met Stan.”

  Glad to get the focus off me, I ask, “Is that why you came back to Sunnyville? To be with family?”

  “Yes.”

  She stands, placing the bottle back on the end table. Her fingers graze across Ethan’s letter and knocks it to the floor. I react without thought and dive to the ground.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She says as we both reach for the paper, but she snatches it up first. I think I stop breathing, seeing her fingers draped around Ethan’s words. She places it back on the table, and her stare lingers on it a moment too long before pulling her gaze to me. “I need to check on the kids and get to work.”

  “Thank you for my coffee.”

  The smile she flashes me makes me grin. “Anytime.”

  She steps away from me and the letter and continues to walk out the door. I let out a relieved breath when she disappears from sight. Shit, that was close. When her engine roars to life, confusion settles in.

  With all these lies I’ve told, where do I go from here?

  Chapter Twelve

  Mackenzie

  “I haven’t found too much on this Nathaniel dude, yet.”

  “You’re wasting your time. He’s perfectly harmless.” After Nate’s and my morning talk, I’m even more convinced he’s an honorable guy. I pull in Mom’s driveway. It’s been years since I’ve seen my brother, but evidently, not enough time has passed. After one day with him in my house, my nerves are already tested.

  “It would help if I knew where he grew up. I’d know who to contact.”

  “San Francisco.” I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth. The last thing I need to do is fuel my brother’s paranoia.

  Jordan’s eyes narrow, and that cocky lift to his chin causes a shiver down my spine. I don’t ask about his contacts. Some things are better left unknown. And, trust me, my brother has hung around some shady characters growing up.

  “I heard Grant Malone’s a detective now. I could have him—”

  “No! Don’t you dare. That’s not his job. Besides, you’re not even close to the Malones.”

  “Fine, but I’m getting as much info as I can.”

  Wanting to change the subject, I say, “Mom will be back in a few weeks. Be sure the house looks decent.”

  He shoots me a look that says, yeah, right. I hold back a sigh. “Speaking of cleaning, did you straighten the house today?” I ask, knowing the answer. Neither one of us would win any Good Housekeeping awards, but there’s no denying the house has been cleaned. My clothes aren’t just folded and tossed into a pile. Each shirt—each pair of shorts and jeans—is folded with department store precision. And do I dare mention the spotless kitchen? Mr. Clean would be jealous.

  “Come on. It hasn’t been that long since we’ve seen each other. You surely don’t think I’ve suddenly transformed.” He flashes me his cocky grin.

  “No. I just thought I’d ask.” A small part of me had hoped my mystery maid had been Jordan. But that was for purely selfish reasons so I wouldn’t feel so bad for yelling at Nate. Could I sink any lower with this guy? No, I don’t think so. The man rushed over in a pinch, watched my kids, and straightened my house. He’s undoubtedly thoughtful. He did an excellent job handling the boys too. They talked nonstop about him during breakfast. There’s so much more to the man than I first saw.

  And I freaking went ballistic on him.

  What is wrong with me?

  “So why are you really back? I know it isn’t just for me.”

  “That hurts, sis.”

  “That’s reality, bro.”

  “Fine.” He laughs, shaking his head. “I plan on fixing my car while I’m here.” His car being a 1970 Plymouth Roadrunner. He’s kept it stored in Stan’s garage for years.

  “No kidding? Liam would love that. He drools every time he goes out to the garage with Stan.”

  “I’ll have him help me.”

  “He’d like that. There haven’t been too many opportunities for him to do those types of things.”

  Silence descends upon us. After a beat, Jordan nudges my knee playfully with his fist. “I am sorry about Ethan. I may not have liked him, but I didn’t wish this to happen to you or the kids.”

  My lips flatten to a thin line as I give him a nod. But damn it, why is it the moment I let my guard down and feel good about Nate, reality slaps me in the face? I don’t know if this guilt will get better. It’s not a secret Ethan and Jordan didn’t get along. Just like oil and water, they didn’t mix. Ethan was all about discipline and toeing the line. Jordan, not so much. Free-spirited is how I always describe him, but that’s me being nice.

  “Thanks. I won’t lie. It’s hard, but I’ve practically been raising these boys on my own since their birth. Military wife, after all.”

  “You always were the strong one.”

  That causes the corners of my mouth to rise. Through all his faults, Jordan has always been a charmer. “Don’t forget that.”

  Jordan opens the car door and steps out. Keeping his hands on the roof, he ducks down, his expression serious. “I’ll get back with that information.”

  I shake my head and concede. It’s useless to fight him. He won’t listen. “Whatever makes you feel better.”

  “Strong-willed or not, I can’t have someone taking advantage of my sister.”

  “I’ve missed you,” I admit. Because I have. Everyone needs their big brother. Flaws and all.

  “I’ve
missed you too, sis.”

  After Jordan collects his tote from my back seat and ducks into Mom’s house, I drive back home. The entire ride, Jordan’s words play through my head. I am strong, but I don’t always want to be. It’s hard always being “on.” Sometimes, I just want to be protected. Is that so much to ask? To not have to make all the daily decisions. Guilt overwhelms me. I knew what I was getting into when I married Ethan. I knew his job would take him away. I knew he’d be the one to sign up for any and every mission he could. He was an adrenaline junkie, always looking for the next high. His high just happened to be jumping out of airplanes and partaking in covert missions. But knowing all that and living it were two different things.

  When I get back home, I need to go through some of the storage boxes. It’s time to settle into our life here. I’m just not looking forward to it.

  * * *

  “Were the kids any trouble?” I ask Ms. Norfolk. Millie seems to be more winded today.

  “No, they were perfect angels. I’m only tired due to my age.”

  “Mom won’t be back for a few weeks. If you need me to find someone else, I can.”

  “No, honey. The boys are no problem. They’re helping me with the garden.”

  “Mommy, come look at the pretty flowers we planted.” Nick’s bubbly joy relaxes me. They do love it here.

  “Sure, sweetie. We’ll take a look as we go home.” Anything to deter me from the task hanging over my head. I turn to my neighbor. “Thanks again.”

  After looking at the rows of chrysanthemums and asters outlined by summer phlox, I can see why Ms. Norfolk was tired. The kids and she planted quite a bit.

  “When these flowers bloom, there will be a rainbow of purples,” Nick says, eyes vibrant.

  “I can’t wait to see.” I open the front door and step aside as they pile in. “If you want to play your video games until supper, that’s fine. I want to dig through the boxes and pull out some décor. The house seems bare.”

 

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