Courage of Us

by Brooke May

  “Well, well, well.”

  Fucking woman.

  She has to practically shout to let every person in the gas station, inside and out, hear her.

  Just how she likes it.

  Always the attention seeker, Glenn slaps her leather gloves in an open hand while smirking over at me. “I guess the cold weather doesn’t stop everyone from going out, including the town whore.”

  God, please, if you can hear me, let the ground open up and swallow me.

  Or her.

  Preferably her.

  Because I’m enjoying my life too much. Not at the moment, but for the most part, I am.

  “Hello, Glenn, Georgina.” I nod to the both of them, Georgina barely acknowledging me.

  “What? Not going to stand up for yourself like usual, whore?”

  I liked Glenn better when she was drunk all the time. At least then, she kept her mouth shut because she usually had a bottle pressed to her lips.

  I wish I could say this out loud to her, but I refuse to give in to the fight she is trying to invoke.

  “You tricked him into marriage and stole his life from him.” Glenn steps closer to get into my face, but Georgina halts her. “You and that baby of yours ruined everything for my sweet boy!”

  Maybe she decided now was the perfect time to start day drinking since her son is sleeping with half the town.

  Have to wash away the embarrassment somehow.

  “Mother!” Georgina, flushed with her own humiliation, raises her voice higher than her mother’s. “That is enough.” Pushing the door open, she practically shoves Glenn outside before turning back to me, and I get the shock of a lifetime. “I’m sorry, Patience. Greg has been really messed up. Mom is just—”

  “It’s fine,” I choke out, cutting her off. It really isn’t; the damage has been done once again, but I’m going to try to hold myself together until I can get home. Doing my best to keep my tears from falling, I force a smile as I walk up to the counter.

  I want to be home now.

  Georgina looks defeated as she sags, and I see a new part of this woman. “I really am sorry, Patience.” Nodding to her, I can’t trust my voice to not crack. “Right.” Georgina is scolding her mom before the door can even close.

  “That woman was much more bearable when she was drunk all the time.”

  Unexpected laugher bursts out of me at the gas attendant’s statement. You can’t live in a small town without knowing everyone’s business.

  “And here I thought she may have had a change and decided to talk and day drink.”

  Any remaining laughter dies the second I get into the car and take off for home. The tears come uninvited to the corners of my eyes, and I madly bat them away as I remain in control of the car. I’m so worked up that when I pull into my driveway, I don’t notice the other vehicle parked in Duke’s spot.

  And it certainly isn’t Duke’s truck or patrol truck.

  It’s Greg’s.

  Frantically, I wipe my face to rid the tears from my face. I will never give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry ever again.

  Getting out, I slam the car door harder than necessary. “What are you doing here?” Hissing at the bastard, I make sure my keys are tucked in my pocket but still within reach incase I need to get back into the car to escape him.

  I’m scared because it is dark, and I am alone with him at my house. I don’t carry any pepper spray, a Taser, or my pistol with me, and I should. My only defense is locked in my house and he is blocking my entrance.

  He doesn’t answer me, only regards me coolly by tilting his head to the left and then the right before returning to the center.

  What does he want?

  First, I have to deal with his mother and sister, and now I have to deal with him. I thought today would have been a great one like all the others I have had lately.

  Guess I was wrong.

  Gathering all my renewed courage and strength, ball my fists at my sides, clenching them tightly.

  “What the hell do you want, Greg?” I snarl up at him.

  “Oh, just stopping by to see if the rumors are true.” He hops down the three steps of my porch with a near douchebag level of confidence. I wish he would have slipped on the ice and knocked himself out.

  “What rumors?”

  I’m pretty certain I know what he is referring to.

  “Is Duke Michaels living with you, Patience?” It’s his turn to snarl at me. Towering over me, he isn’t as tall as Duke, but it’s still enough of a difference to be threatening.

  “I don’t see how any of that is your business.” Jutting my chin up, I remain in control of my body’s natural response to cower to him.

  Not this time.

  “It makes me look bad!” he shouts, the stench of beer and whiskey on his breath. “So soon after our divorce—”

  “And cheating on your wife doesn’t?” I match his shout with one of my own. I don’t care if the neighbors call the sheriff’s office. If I’m lucky, they will send Duke. I don’t need him to save me, but his backup would be nice.

  “Fuck you. If you wouldn’t have—”

  I’m done listening to the same damn thing over and over again. I’m done with him and his inability to accept his own mistakes.

  “If you say I ruined your life, I will cut off the only reason you can call yourself a man and shove it down your goddamn throat and hope it is big enough to choke your dumb-fucking-ass!”

  Whoa.

  Wow.

  Did I really just say that?

  Internally laughing, I see the light. The old Patience is coming back in full force, and there is no way I’m going to stop her now.

  “Get your lying, cheating drunk ass off my property before I do just that.” Turning like a door opening for him, I point at his car and wait for him to take off.

  “This isn’t—”

  It feels good not to let him get a full sentence out.

  “LEAVE!” Screaming, I feel my vocal cords aggressively vibrating in my throat. And I watch him start toward his car just as headlights turn onto my street.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Duke

  COWS ON THE ROAD.

  I answered the call, helped the rancher get his cows back into his fence and then helped him fix the fence.

  That took two hours, and thankfully, only about twelve had gotten out and not his whole herd; otherwise, I would probably still be out there. But that wasn’t the end of the calls for the day. As soon as I got back into town, I was turning around and heading back out to deal with a deer that had been hit and was lying on the side of the road struggling for its life with two broken legs and a possible broken back.

  I did the right thing by putting the doe out of her misery, then loaded her into the back of my patrol truck to take her to the Game and Fish office. As soon as I got back in the cab, another call came in. Two vehicles had slid off the side of the road between me and town and needed help getting pulled out.

  If this is how the winter is going to be, then I’m ready for it. Anything is better than twiddling my thumbs at the station or roaming the streets to find something to do. And I can’t hang around the café all day bugging Patience for her attention and delicious baked goods.

  But it also ate up my lunchtime that I was planning to spend looking at something important for Patience today.

  Looks like that will have to wait until tomorrow.

  Then I would probably have even more calls to answer tomorrow. The falling snow always brings out the worst in drivers. Everyone and their mother seem to forget how to maneuver on the winter roads, causing more accidents than any other time of the year. What’s made it worse is the addition of texting while driving.

  I’ve handed out warning to five teenagers in the last two days, ruining their lunch breaks.

  After a long day of being out in the cold and on the road, I’m ready for a hot shower and a warm meal before settling in for the night with Patience.

  After dropping
the deer off, I headed back to the station to write up my reports for the day and then got the hell out of Dodge before another system decided to finally come in for the evening.

  Home. I was going home.

  I fucking love that word now. Before, it was a foreign concept that made me think of the house I grew up in with my parents; the sounds I’ve heard since the day I came home from the hospital of the chickens roaming around, and the horses and cattle in the pasture.

  But now, it is a small house on a hill with a woman who sets my heart off on a gallop every time I see her, and the warmth her home envelops me with each time I set foot inside.

  Heading up the hill, I make the left turn that will lead me up to Patience’s house. There is a single streetlight on the corner before I reach the house, but it is enough to illuminate her driveway, and what I see causes my blood to chill and then instantly boil.

  Patience is standing right by the steps of her porch with a taller, wider masculine figure over her.

  “Motherfucker.”

  I’m forced to park behind Patience’s car because I’m going to make sure Greg leaves here in the next few minutes.

  I don’t hear yelling, shouts, or crying as I slam my truck door and make my way to her. Patience isn’t cowering or holding herself together as I draw closer to her. She is holding her ground in a way I hoped she would when she was forced to face her ex once more.

  Not that I was ever planning on letting that happen, but I’m damn proud of her.

  I hear her tell him to leave, and he starts but then stops when he sees me. I can’t see his face clearly as he tilts it to the left and right like some sort of fucking animal assessing if their larger prey is worth taking down.

  It isn’t.

  Where he had football training, I had hand-to-hand combat training.

  “You heard the lady, get the fuck out of here.” Jerking my head in the direction of his piece of shit car, I sneer at him. It isn’t in as rough of shape as the one Patience was driving.

  “You don’t have any right telling me what to do, officer.” He snarls like my new employment title doesn’t scare him. My uniform has nothing to do with me using my power of authority to remove him from here.

  “I do if she tells me you’re harassing her.” Glancing over his shoulder, I focus on Patience. She’s shaking her head, but it is hard to tell with how bundled up she is.

  “What? I can’t come visit with my ex-wife?”

  “No, because she doesn’t want you here.” My jaw pops as I clench my teeth together. Making fists, I bring them together and crack them.

  “Are you sure about that?” He takes what I’m assuming is his version of menacing steps toward me, but I don’t budge. Instead, I take one of my own to him. He’s a threat and with his lack of cooperation, my training takes over and is telling me to eliminate him.

  A small part of me is trying to take control to stop the combative side of my brain, but it isn’t working because my vision is starting to turn red.

  “Fuck. Off. Michaels.” He snarls again, and then just when I’m doing my best, the fucker goes and spits in my face, following it closely with a lame attempt to slam a fist into my side.

  A rage I have never felt before takes over my body, the jurisdiction of my mind goes to every combat part of me, and all reason is lost.

  I don’t hear his nose crunch when my fist slams into it.

  I don’t feel any reason other than eliminating him as I plow into him, taking him to the ground and continuing to beat the shit out of him.

  Some football player he was. He couldn’t even brace himself to keep me from taking him down in a complete tackle. Everything Patience has told me about the hell she lived in for years with this dipshit fuels my anger.

  Marrying her when he knew she should have been mine.

  Not being by her side when she lost my son.

  Partying, doing God knows whatever else while she suffered.

  Dragging her down and making her a shell of the woman I have always known and loved.

  Not buying her a reliable car.

  And now showing up here just as she is getting back to herself with the need to destroy her once more.

  I don’t stop with his face; I beat on his body as well. His arms are useless to stop me. Punch after punch, I’m relentless as I try my best to get him to disappear so he never bothers Patience again.

  I don’t feel like I’m in front of Patience’s house in the wintertime as I beat the shit out of Greg. I feel as though I’ve been thrown back to the desert where I am disoriented from the bomb that just went off, and someone is coming after my dog and me.

  “DUKE! STOP!”

  Patience?

  She has no place here, not in this hell.

  The cloud of rage over me that changed my surroundings instantly begins to clear as I feel small hands grabbing at me and her screaming pleas.

  “Duke, you’re going to kill him. Stop!” She sobs.

  Finally, I halt my attack. I’m not on a battlefield with an injured dog anymore. I’m in the driveway of Patience’s home, and Greg is an unarmed man who can’t really do much.

  “Shit.” Stumbling away from him, I feel the blood drains from my face. “Fucking shit.” Standing up, I look at my fists. Blood coats them. Mine? Greg’s? A mixture of both? I don’t know. I don’t think I’m bleeding. “Holy … shit.” Panic starts to ebb its way into every fiber of my being.

  It doesn’t die down when Greg staggers to his feet and manages to get into his car, backs away, and drives off with ease.

  And it certainly doesn’t get any better when I finally look at Patience.

  Her angelic face is bone white as she stares at me as she doesn’t know what to do. As if she doesn’t know me.

  I’ve fucked up.

  My meds are supposed to help.

  “Shit.”

  Looking away, I feel so much shit come back to me. Everything I thought I had under control. I can’t do this to Patience, not like this. This isn’t the man I am or who I want to be.

  “I …” Patience takes a tentative step to me, but I back away, shaking my head and refusing to look at her.

  I can’t do this.

  I need to get away from her before I do something else I can’t take back.

  I can’t hurt her like this even if it was her ex I was physically assaulting.

  I still fucked up.

  I don’t say a word to her as I make my way back to my truck and quickly climb in, cranking it to start and backing out before I can even think rationally.

  “Fucking hell.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Duke

  PATIENCE.

  I messed up by running away last night. Not knowing where I was going, I ended up back at the station and slept in the locker room when my mind was finally able to shut off. When Dale found me, I was lost in my own head again, reeling from a dream where I was trying to get to Patience, but Chase, Decker, Ryder, and Holt showed up to talk some sense into me.

  I didn’t know what to make of it, and neither did Dale.

  Since I wasn’t scheduled to work until later in the day, I got up and headed to my therapist’s office in the hopes of having a few minutes to talk with her.

  “So Patience was able to pull you out of it?”

  “Yes.” Rubbing the pads of my thumbs over the bill of my hat, I give her confirmation. “I lost where I was for a moment.”

  Now that I’ve said it all out loud to someone, it really wasn’t a long enough span of time where I ended up back in a warzone. I shouldn’t have freaked out afterward.

  “And you are blaming …?”

  This is the part I knew I would dread when everything really settled in.

  “I can’t blame anyone but myself for overreacting. At first, I thought it was my medication that wasn’t helping me like it was supposed to, but I can’t say that now.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because I can’t use that as an excuse or a cr
utch. I made the mistake, not my medication. I shouldn’t have gone after a man who wasn’t really a threat.”

  “But he hit you first.”

  “And I should have been the bigger man. I didn’t do that, and I scared not only myself but Patience as well and likely put my job in jeopardy.”

  “This is good, Duke.”

  “What do you mean?” Stopping with my fiddling, I shoot a confused glare up at her. She’s got to be kidding me, right?

  “I mean …” She removes her glasses and sets her notepad down. “You’ve already identified that you needed help. You aren’t the most severe case of PTSD I have come across, but you are still willing to do everything in your power to make sure you were able to get a handle on it. By coming to me today, Duke, you show me that you are doing just fine.”

  “But Greg—”

  “Would you have done the same thing in high school? You’ve told me about your past with Patience and that you didn’t care for him back then. If he would have done the same back then, would you have not done the same thing?”

  Falling back in my seat, I think about it before I answer.

  Would have I done the same in high school?

  The answer is a definite yes. I would have laid out Greg and likely would have been hauled away by my uncle.

  “I would have.”

  “Then I don’t see the issue.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Not at all. I’m glad you came here today to talk it over because it shows your character, but I think you need to go home and talk this over with Patience as well.”

  She’s right. I need to get back to Patience and make up for this. Leaving her last night makes me no different from Greg. But I didn’t like the look of fear she gave me.

  “I better get on that then.”

  “I think that would be for the best.” We stand together. “Thank you for stopping by today, Duke. I’m glad you are comfortable with coming to me when you need to talk.”

  “Thank you.” Shaking her hand, I head out of the office and slide to a stop before I can reach my truck. Dale is leaned up against it, looking far too comfortable in the bitter cold.