by Raine Miller
Mike was the only other besides me to make it out of the ambush in the street. It would have been so much better if he hadn’t…
IMMERSED in the bathtub with luxurious scented water warming my body, I processed through the last twelve hours. Jesus Christ, it would take more than a soak in the tub to figure it all out.
Ethan had fallen asleep so soundly after we finished the second time, he didn’t even stir when I slipped out of bed. He usually followed after me when he heard the tub filling, if he hadn’t been the one to start it in the first place. But not tonight.
I imagined Ethan was exhausted from the pretense at the hospital. I could tell that he was torn up inside about having to ask me to go. We didn’t have a choice though. Lucas Oakley was going to secure the presidency for Benjamin Colt because of a twist of fate that made his son a war hero at just the right moment. Handsome young Army officer gets his leg blown off in the war. Oh, and the handsome young officer just happens to be the son of the nominee for Vice President of the United States of America. The polls were already predicting a landslide victory, and everyone knew it.
The really scary part though? Once Senator Oakley was the Vice President, he would only be a heartbeat away from being…The President. The very thought made my heart ache. The normal response would be to rub over the area to ease the sting, but I cradled my belly instead—my first instinct to protect my little butterfly angel. I’d done what I had to today. I had to secure some kind of assurance that my sordid past with Lance couldn’t do damage to his father’s future, or to mine. And I would willingly do it again, too. Anything for my butterfly angel.
Lance… When I had woken up this morning, he was the last person I ever imagined seeing. I wasn’t ready to deal with him yet, but I was realistic enough to see that Lance Oakley was not going to go away. Especially now. “Brynne, please come back to see me again. I have to tell you how sorry I am for what I did to you.”
Which had led me to my second shock. He was sorry? I didn’t know what to make of his request, but I understood Lance only wanted me to hear because he asked me in a secret whisper. It didn’t matter. I wouldn’t go back there to see him again. I didn’t need to. Oddly, I was okay with how things stood. All in all, the way the visit had played out, was not as traumatic for me as I thought it would have been. I was strong during our meeting, and I did everything I was asked to do. As did Lance.
I didn’t really dwell on the idea of what this all meant in regards to my emotional health, because I didn’t have the time or the inclination to delve into it. I had a life to lead, with a husband who loved me and needed my support, and a baby who needed me for everything. All of the past crap with Lance would just have to take a back seat in the driving force that was now my life. I didn’t see any other way to move forward.
And I was determined to move forward. I brought my hand to my stomach again and tried to feel for more movement, but baby wasn’t in the mood, I guess.
I couldn’t let Lance, or his scheming politician father, stop me from what I needed to do. The meeting had really stunned me in the way Lance appeared so different than he’d been when we were together. Like, complete-one-eighty different. I still had some trouble connecting the man I’d seen today, with the one I’d known before. They didn’t even feel like the same person. Maybe he had changed over the course of the years. His body sure had changed with all the tattoos—
“—Noooo! Mike, I’m sorry, brother. I won’t do it again! Awww, fuck no. MIKE! God, please no. FUCK! NO, PLEASE DON’T DO IT. NO...NO…NO!”
Ethan. I heard him shouting from the bedroom and understood immediately. My man was having another night terror. I stood up from the bath, water streaming off my skin, and reached for my robe. I drew it on over my dripping body and rushed out of the bathroom. He needed me, and I had to help him. Simple as that.
I bolted up from the bed gasping, both hands around my throat, just hanging there taking in oxygen.
Breathe, motherfucker. In, out, in, out.
That flashback was the worst. My deepest torment—one that could never be erased from my mind. I knew I was doomed to carry that one inside of me forever. He’s at peace now. I told myself that, whenever the guilt seared into me to the point where I was right then. It didn’t help a great deal, but some. And it was the best I could do.
In, out, in, out.
“Ethan, baby…” Her gentle voice told me she was awake this time.
I was afraid to look at her. Fucking terrified to lift my head and face my sweet girl. If I did, she would see my shame and my weakness. Fuck all knows what I’d shouted out. I felt like I would be sick.
But Brynne didn’t do what she had done on the other occasions. She didn’t get upset or demand I start talking. Didn’t judge or question. She just put her soft hand to my chest and brought herself close so I could take in her scent, and know I was in the here and now, and not lost in my past. She let me see that I had her safe beside me. “I’m here, and I love you,” she crooned at my ear. “How can I help you?”
Pure, flooding relief cascaded over me at her words. I pulled her into me and held on for dear life. The idiom was a perfect description of me. I held onto my girl for dear life.
THE hair at the back of her neck was a little damp. I could mess about in her hair for hours. I loved the softness of it, the texture, the smell, everything. As soon as she’d asked me how she could help me, I’d showed her exactly how.
I think she knew because she had “helped” me before, allowing me to find a small measure of comfort in her body by using sex to drown out the demons. Now came the hard part. The part where I apologized for my beastly reaction of using her like a tranquilizer.
Spooning on our sides, I breathed her in and cradled our little bun-in-the-oven with my hand. I was looking forward to feeling a kick or a fist pump, but hadn’t been so lucky yet. Brynne brought her hand to cover mine on her stomach and sighed in contentment. Which made me feel miles better. A satisfied Brynne was a good start.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” I finally whispered at her ear. “Forgive me…”
“You have nothing to be sorry about, Ethan, ever. All I care about is that you know I’m here for you and that I love you. That’s what’s important to me.” She yawned sleepily and patted over my hand. “Go to sleep now.”
My eyes snapped open. Did I just hear her correctly? She wasn’t going to interrogate me about my nightmare, or demand I go “talk” to some headshrinker about the shit in my fucked-up past? Her actions made me curious.
“Brynne?” I nuzzled the back of her shoulder.
“Hmmm?”
“Why aren’t you disturbed by what I—what I did tonight? My nightmare?” I asked carefully, my lips pressing down on her skin with a kiss as soon as the question was out of my mouth.
“I spoke to Dr. Roswell about your PTSD.”
My body tensed as I struggled with feelings of betrayal for a moment, but I held off, because I was sure there was more in the way of an explanation from her. Brynne was not the hothead I was. She thought about things before she said them. Most of the time. And if I was in her shoes, I would probably do the same. My condition was no secret to her anymore. Why pretend with the only person I could even trust?
“Well, I didn’t tell her very much, just that you have bad flashbacks from your time as a prisoner in the army. I asked her how I could help you.” She rolled around to face me, her expression telling the truth in her words. “Because I love you, Ethan, and I will do anything to bring you out from that dark place if I can.”
“You do already. You have from the beginning,” I told her. “You’re the only thing that helps me.” I traced her cheekbone with my finger, wishing I could tell her I’d never have another flashback, or wake her from a sound sleep with barking-mad ravings in the night. I would do it again. I might never stop doing it.
“So Dr. Roswell told me a little about the way the trauma memories work,” she began cautiously, her voice like a soft caress.
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“What did she say?” I managed to ask.
“She told me that people with PTSD will do almost anything to avoid having to remember the events. It’s too painful and terrifying.”
Dr. Roswell is right.
She shook her head slowly. “So I won’t ask anymore…I’ll just be here for you. Whatever you need from me¸ I’m here for you. Sex? To bring you out of it if that’s what you need. With no pressure to talk it out if you don’t want to.” She swallowed and her throat flexed in the hollow of her neck. The cool touch of her hand on my cheek came next. “I know now that when I pushed you to talk to me about your nightmares I was just making it harder on you. I’m so sorry, Ethan, I thought talking would help you. I didn’t know I was hurting you by trying to force you—”
I kissed her, cutting off her words. I’d heard plenty. Beautiful words of acceptance that went further to heal me than anything probably ever could. I knew this was true. My girl had just helped me to take the first step. Maybe now, with her unconditional support, I could find the courage to go out and find some help somewhere.
Brynne brought her hands into my hair and gripped hard, letting me know she was going to be right with me through and through. God, I loved her so much it was beyond what I could ever express. It was just something I would have to hold inside me. I was the only one who could ever know how deep my love went for Brynne.
When I finally ended our kiss, I still held her against me because I couldn’t bear to let her out of my arms. Could not fucking bear it. I had to hold onto her for the rest of that night.
CHAPTER 10
19th October
Scotland
BRYNNE and I were dressed for a wedding, but we weren’t the bride and groom. That honour went to Neil and Elaina today. That is if Neil didn’t drop dead from anxiety before he could say the vows to his bride.
“You’re going to wear a hole in this ancient stone floor if you don’t stop pacing like a lunatic. Are you going to sit in the corner and start cradling back and forth, too?” I couldn’t help myself, the opportunity to wind him up was just too sweet to pass over.
Neil shot me a death glare and kept right on with the back-and-forth. “Easy for you to say that to me, now that you’re already married. I remember how mental you were in that room before you said your vows to Brynne. You would’ve smoked your Blacks three at a time if we hadn’t hidden your stash away where you couldn’t find them.”
I shook my head. So that’s where my smokes went. Fuckers. “Listen mate, all will be well in a very short time. You’re starting to worry me.”
Neil stopped with the pacing. “I feel ill,” he squawked. “I need water.”
“I think you need a fucking bottle of Scotch, but really, it’s going to be fine.”
He nodded weakly and gulped in huge breaths of air. “What time is it?”
“About two minutes later than the last time you asked.” I took pity on the poor sod. He was a miserable wreck. So I walked over to him and slapped him hard on the back, under the guise of brotherly love, and told him a little lie. “I saw Elaina in her dress all ready for you when I snuck a peek at my girl in that side room where they’re all waiting.” I hadn’t really seen Elaina, but he didn’t need to know that. I’d seen Brynne in her pale blue dress though. Delicious. I’d needed to make sure she was feeling okay because she’d woken up with a headache in the morning.
Neil started rapidly firing questions, too desperate to wait for any answers—which would all be made up, but my blending of the truth was beside the point, I needed to get him to the altar standing and conscious, as opposed to flat on his back. “You saw her? How was she? Did she seem nervous? Did she look worried about anyth—”
I lied well, which wasn’t hard at all. Elaina would be lovely as she always was. “She looked gorgeous and like she couldn’t wait to get shackled to you, you big great ape. Do I need to tranquillize you or something?”
My comment did the trick because he came to life and spat back immediately, “I’ll remember this, when Brynne is ready to deliver your baby, and you’re a quivering mass of jelly on the floor. Don’t worry, I’ll return the favour with the offer of tranquillizers.”
Well, fuck. He has a point. I refused to think about the birth at that moment. If I started down that track, I’d be on the floor along with Neil. I’m sure my mouth looked a lot like Simba’s when he wants a krill; hanging open for a moment before I could get a grip and close it. Neil smirked at me and shook his head. I checked my watch and decided to give him the brutal truth. He was my best mate, and deserved to know what was coming. He’d survive it just like the rest of us. “Okay, I’ll be honest. The ceremony is a fucking stress ball of bullshit, and I can’t help you even a little bit. The good news? In about five more hours, you can start on the wedding night and that part is completely golden.” I trolled my hand like an airplane on a smooth ride.
Neil looked at me as if I were the biggest idiot ever to draw breath. I shrugged at him and we both busted into laughter at how fucking ridiculous this was, easing away all the tension. He looked better and that was the main purpose for my confession. Neil would be fine. I knew nobody stronger than him, or more loyal. The two reasons he was my partner and confidant. He was getting his girl after years and years of waiting for her, and I was happy to see it happen. Honored to be standing up for my friend on his wedding day.
A knock sounded at the door, and Elaina’s mum peeked in. “Is it all right for me to come in?”
“I’ll leave you to it then, brother.” I excused myself, leaving Neil and his future mother-in-law in peace. Neil had hit the lottery with her. Caroline Morrison was a sweet lady and a loving mum. The polar opposite of my mother-in-law, I thought with a grimace. It must be nice.
I stepped outside and checked my Rolex again. If I made it quick, I had just enough time to get in a smoke before curtain call.
The stunning landscape in all its harsh ruggedness framed the house perfectly. Neil’s place up here in Scotland was quite the countryman’s establishment. I stood under a flowering tree and lit up a clove. My resolve to work on getting into some kind of treatment for my issues had helped with the anxiety of flashback dreams thanks to Brynne, and only her. As far as doing a thing to help me cut back on the coffin-nails? Not so much. One step at a time I told myself as I sucked it down.
I stubbed out my ciggie and looked for someplace to get rid of the butt. I didn’t want to put it in my pocket, which seemed a bit crude considering the occasion, but I might have to.
“Ethan?”
I turned around to find someone I never thought I’d ever see again. My heart dropped like a stone, and then bounced along the pavers, propelled by a momentum that seemed to have no fucking end. My past come for its due notice, I suppose.
“Sarah…” My voice cracked out her name as I took her in, right before me after so long. She was just as beautiful as ever; didn’t look like she’d aged a bit. The smile she gave me did things to my heart I didn’t want to face up to again. Don’t fucking smile at me, Sarah. I don’t deserve it.
When her arms came out to embrace me, I closed my eyes, terrified of what I’d feel—and also, the irony of fate, that only now, put her back into my path again.
“ARE you all right?” Brynne asked softly, her eyes looking up at me with concern.
Not really. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”
She shrugged and moved her fork around her dinner plate, doing a good job of not eating. “You seemed preoccupied during the ceremony, and now even,” she said glumly.
Pull it together. “No, baby.” I put my hand around her neck and pulled her under my chin for a kiss to the top of her head. “Still have the headache?”
She nodded against my jaw. I rubbed the back of the top of her neck, massaging deeply on the pressure points.
“Mmmmm, that really helps,” she moaned, straightening her neck into my hand so I could work out the kinks.
“Good. I want you taking it easy at the—�
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“Ethan, you haven’t introduced me to your new bride,” Sarah interrupted us from behind, her pleasant expression merely a mask for propriety’s sake.
Fuck.
AAAAAND it begins.
So, Sarah was going for martyrdom today. Just throwing herself down on the track before a speeding train. I tried to wrap my head around her motives, but it wasn’t working. She wished to meet Brynne…my wife? She wanted to know all about our posh wedding and honeymoon? She enjoyed hearing about the baby, and found it amusing we weren’t going to know in advance if we were getting a boy or a girl? She needed to congratulate me on my good fortune with Blackstone Security?
Why? How could she bear to do any of it? I surely couldn’t. I needed to get the fuck out.
But there was no place to hide here, except for the bottom of a pint. Or four. Best thing I could figure to do given the situation.
A former soldier’s wedding with my pregnant bride beside me…
Getting pissed might possibly dull the edge enough I could pull off the nice-and-happy required for a marriage celebration. Or maybe not.
Rather a blessing that Brynne wasn’t feeling much in the party mood actually. This way she might not notice just how fucked in the head her husband was.
I thought I’d handled Sarah’s surprise visit fairly well, given I had absolutely no time to process, before I was expected to go stand up for my friend in front of a crowd of people. And with Brynne right there, glowing with new life and enjoying the moment. No fuckin’ fair.
Don’t say that. None of this is fair. Not for Sarah. And certainly not for Mike.
