Flawed (Triple Canopy Book 2)

by Riley Edwards

  I couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like to love someone so completely, all other women faded into the background. Hell, for Carter they didn’t fade, they ceased to exist. I’d never even seen him eye one up, it was like his world revolved around Delaney. And the lucky son of a bitch had found a woman who returned that loyalty and love in spades.

  “Exaggerate much?”

  “Been out with you three times in the last seven days. Three times I’ve watched you send women on their way. Now, I admit, that’s not new, but thinking on it, I haven’t seen you take one home since we moved to Georgia.”

  I internally winced at his statement. It had been a long time and maybe that was part of why I couldn’t stop thinking about Addy.

  “Is there a reason you’re concerned about who I’m fucking?”

  “Not fucking,” he corrected.

  I drained the dregs of my beer and jerked my chin to the passing bartender.

  “Another?”

  “Jack and make it a double,” I returned.

  “That’s telling,” Matt mumbled.

  I clenched my jaw and wondered how in the hell my life had come to this. There had been a time when no one commented on my drinking habits, no one kept track of where I chose to stick my dick, and no one cared about either.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Told you, I wanted to check on you.”

  “What—”

  “You had PT today,” he told me something I very well knew. “Also know you’ve been ditching it more than you’ve been going and Addy’s losing her patience with you. The way I see it, one of these days shit’s gonna finally blow.”

  He wasn’t wrong. I had been dodging PT. But more, I’d been avoiding Adalynn.

  “Then it’s a good thing you no longer have to worry.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “She kicked me to the curb.”

  “You’re full of shit.”

  “No, I’m not. She told me I needed to find another therapist.”

  The effort it took not to rub the ache in my chest was ridiculous. Part of why I was at the bar drowning my sorrows. I couldn’t get the hurt that had flashed in her eyes out of my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d looked at me when I acted like a dick. It was no wonder the woman hated me. Even me bringing it up to her and asking her why was an asshole thing to do.

  I knew why.

  I just didn’t know why I couldn’t stop myself from lashing out. When she turned those pretty green eyes my way, something inside of me cracked. Every damn time since the moment I first saw her. Adalynn was the last person I wanted to feel sorry for me. I didn’t want her pity, I didn’t want her to see me as a patient, I didn’t want her to see how fucking broken I was. I wanted her to see me as a man. Like I used to be, strong and capable. Not this sad excuse.

  The truth was I just plain wanted her with an unhealthy obsession that was beginning to seriously fucking worry me. She was all I thought about. Night and day. Day and night. And the worst damn part was I knew—she was the one woman in the world I wanted for a lifetime, the woman who would challenge me and complete me the way no one else ever would.

  And I was a washed-up has-been.

  Flawed. Broken. Wrecked.

  I felt Matt’s eyes boring into my skull. I didn’t need to turn to know he was scowling at me. Further, I didn’t need a lecture.

  “Not in the mood to hear how I fucked up,” I warned.

  “How did you fuck up?”

  “Don’t want to talk about that either.”

  “One day, you’re gonna have to sort your head. You have to let go—”

  “I do, really, Matt? What exactly do I have to let go of?”

  I heard the legs of the stool scrape on the floor before I felt Matt lean close.

  “Everything,” he grunted. “You’ve been so busy feeling sorry for yourself you missed it. So let me clue you the fuck in. You’re not the only one struggling with the change. But you’re the only one trying to hold on to the old days with an iron fist. You’re the only one glorifying what we did, where we went, and the sacrifices we made. Not saying I regret a minute of it. I wouldn’t change it and I’d do it again. But, brother, it fucking sucked, and if you’d pull your head out you’d remember. You’ve never been about ego, you’ve never been about being a SEAL—you were a team guy, a team player, and team leader. Now you’re acting like a fucking SEAL, and, Trey, that shit ain’t you. That’s your dad and brother getting in your head. That’s their bullshit, you did your time. You did it with honor. You served your country, not them. You. It’s your life, not theirs, and if they’re so fucking torn up they lost their bragging rights, that’s their problem.

  “But you’re taking that on when you should be fucking grateful you have an opportunity to start over. You and I both could name at least a dozen men, good men, brothers, fathers, and sons who weren’t so fucking lucky. Think about that as you sit here having your one-man pity party. Think about those mothers, wives, children, siblings, who wish their men came home with a few scars instead of in a pine box.”

  Matt stepped away but he wasn’t done. “One last thing to think about—if we hadn’t gone on that mission, where would Liberty be? Your face would be as pretty as ever, your back clean of burns, your dad still up-your-ass happy, you’d still be in the Navy, but that woman would be dead.”

  When Matt was done hurling insults, he turned and strolled out of the bar.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

  I sat in silence and drained my Jack. I did this thinking I was a selfish prick full of ego and self-pity.

  Now you’re acting like a fucking SEAL.

  I damn well was and it fucking sucked having to admit to yourself you’d turned into someone you didn’t like very much. All of my years on the teams I’d never acted like a douchebag SEAL, I was a member of a team. There was a distinct difference between the two. SEALs loved to brag they were a SEAL. A Team Guy was all about the team, the job, the mission, the important work they did—there was no ego involved.

  Now I was crying in my soup and moping around because…why? I wasn’t a SEAL anymore? Because my dad was a fucking jackass and had made me feel worthless? Or was it because I no longer had a purpose?

  I tossed cash on the bar, got up, and glanced across the room at the blonde. Her back was to me, her ass encased in tight jeans, and I gave it two beats—taking her in, trying to find some sort of interest.

  Nothing.

  Not a damn twinge.

  Blonde turned into shiny dark brown and I knew I was more fucked than I was ready to admit.

  Goddamn, Adalynn Walker.

  3

  “What happened with Trey?” my sister Hadley asked over the phone.

  My step faltered and my purse slid down my arm. I shifted, caught the strap in the crook of my elbow, and fumbled the high-density foam roller, recovering the cylinder before I dropped it. I did all of that as I balanced my phone between my shoulder and my ear.

  I did not want to talk to Hadley about Trey. Actually, I didn’t want to talk about Trey to anyone. It had been nearly a week since our blow-out, and in those six days, all I’d thought about was him. Would he find another therapist? Would he continue his PT? Was he okay? Why did I care? Why couldn’t I get his wounded, vulnerable expression out of my mind? Did I give up on him? And again, why in the heck did I care?

  “I’m late, Hadley, I don’t have time to get into this.”

  “You’re not late. You’re never late. It’s five after ten which means your first session doesn’t start until eleven.”

  Of course she’d know that; I was Addy Walker, the predictable one. The boring one. The one who lived by a carefully timed schedule.

  “It’s five after ten, which means I’m five minutes late,” I told her and stopped ten feet away from the double, sliding glass doors of the veterans' affairs building I worked at two days a week.

  “Addy,” she snapped, frustrated.

  “Hadley,
” I returned just as irritated.

  This was the point in our conversation that, had we been face-to-face and not on the phone, my twin would’ve initiated a staredown. Instead, silence befell but that didn’t mean I couldn’t picture her pinched lips and creased forehead. A disapproving look she’d perfected over the years. A look she gave me when I declined to go out with her and her friends for a night of shenanigans. It was a variation of the one she gave me when I did agree to go out yet turned down invitations to dance with random guys who approached our table.

  Hadley was the fun one. I was the shy, cautious, lame twin.

  “Can we please not talk about this?” I broke the silence when it became evident Hadley had nothing better to do than wait me out.

  “I’ll drop it if you promise to call me later and tell me.”

  “That’s not dropping it, that’s postponing it.”

  “Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll postpone the conversation if you promise to call me on your way home and tell me what happened. Trey’s miserable and being bitchy to the guys at work and he won’t even look at me. I know I didn’t do anything to him, which makes me think he doesn’t want to see me because when he does he sees you.”

  I didn’t need to know that.

  I also had to get into the gym and set up for my class.

  “What Trey is going through has nothing to do with me. Besides, I haven’t seen him since last Thursday.”

  “Thursday? It’s Wednesday. Is he ditching PT again? I thought you saw him—”

  “I told him he needed to find a new therapist.”

  “You did what?” Hadley screeched, and I wished my arms weren’t full so I could’ve pulled my phone away from my ear. Unfortunately, I didn’t have that option so I almost went deaf when she continued on in a high-pitched squeal, “Why would you do that, Adalynn?”

  “Like you said, he blows off his sessions more than he shows. Obviously, he doesn’t take his PT seriously. He needs to find someone who can motivate him. We’re not a good fit.”

  “You’re a perfect fit,” she argued.

  “Don’t go there, Hads. He and I don’t mix well. He doesn’t respect me or my time. A man like him needs to be pushed, and let’s just say he made it clear I was not the right person for the job.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “I don’t have time to talk about it. Heck, I don’t want to talk about it. He’ll find someone new. In the meantime, the guys will have to suck it up and deal with him. I’m sorry he’s avoiding you, but that’s not my problem either.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Hadley! I have to go.”

  “Fine. Call me when you’re done.”

  “I’m busy.”

  “Liar, liar pants on fire.”

  I rolled my eyes at my sister’s juvenile response, then looked back at the doors to the VA. I was indeed late and I had to get my immature sister off the phone.

  “You’re so annoying.”

  “I know. But you love me. Talk to you later.”

  Hadley disconnected, I juggled the load in my arms, and grabbed my phone off my shoulder. I was in the midst of trying to adjust my purse while simultaneously thinking about what in the world I had in my bag that was so heavy, when I heard my name called and scanned the courtyard for a familiar face. Not seeing one, I figured I was hearing things and started for the door when I heard my name again, this time louder, closer, and I glanced over my shoulder to find a man in uniform ambling my way.

  “Addy?” he inquired and stopped a few feet away.

  Out of habit, my eyes hit the soldier’s front closure of his jacket to check rank—three chevrons—a sergeant. Then my gaze traveled to his name tape and I froze.

  Belview.

  Jake Belview.

  “Jake?”

  “I thought that was you,” he returned.

  I really, really wished I hadn’t taken my sister’s call. If I hadn’t, I would’ve been in the tiny office I shared with three other PTs and not standing in front of my ex-boyfriend.

  “It’s me,” I lamely returned, not knowing what else to say to the guy who broke my heart.

  Jake glanced at the foam roller, likely took in my workout clothes, and smiled.

  “You did it.”

  I didn’t need him to elaborate. When we were together, I’d told him all about how I’d wanted to become a physical therapist. Further, he knew my desire to help wounded vets.

  “I did.” I tried and failed to return his smile.

  His grin faded and his expression turned guarded.

  “Addy, listen—”

  Oh, no, I wasn’t listening to anything he had to say. He’d said enough when he dumped me before he left for deployment. Something I didn’t want. I grew up an army brat. I understood the hardships and I’d been willing to stick it out. Jake on the other hand was adamant it wouldn’t work. His rejection hurt and had shaped how I viewed relationships.

  So, heck no, I didn’t want to listen. I wanted to get to work.

  “Whatever you’re gonna say is unnecessary. It was a long time ago.”

  Yet in the years Jake had been gone, I hadn’t recovered. Not that I still had feelings for him—I was way over him. But I’d never gotten over the sting of him callously tossing me aside.

  “Honey, the way you’re looking at me says otherwise. I think there’s a lot to say.”

  “I’m late for a session, Jake.”

  “Let me buy you lunch when you’re done.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Just lunch, Addy. Please. I owe you an apology and an explanation.”

  “You really don’t.”

  “There’s not much I regret, but leaving you the way I did is at the top of that list. I’m asking you to please let me buy you lunch. It would mean a lot to me if I could explain what was going on.”

  It was obvious Jake wasn’t going to let lunch go, and now I was seriously late. On that thought, I gave in.

  “My session’s over at noon.”

  Jake gave me a small smile and said, “I’ll be in the lobby.”

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  I didn’t bother returning Jake’s half-hearted grin, I didn’t bid him a farewell or nice seeing you. I wasn’t trying to be rude, but seeing my ex wasn’t a pleasant surprise and he had to know that.

  I rushed through the maze of hallways until I reached the far corner of the building and pushed into the physical therapy room. There were men and women on various exercise machines, some were stretching on the mat, others were being spotted by trainers. I glanced around and didn’t see anyone from my class so I went into the office and dropped my stuff on the desk I used. The desk wasn’t mine, I shared it with three others, but luckily I was alone in the office. With twenty minutes to spare, I plopped down in the chair and exhaled.

  It would take a lot more than yoga and meditation today to clear my mind.

  Thoughts of Trey and Jake battled for supremacy in my head. Two men, neither of them welcomed thoughts. Both of them had hurt me. But it was Trey who cut deeper.

  You’ve never known anything but fucking perfect your whole coddled life.

  Trey was right, I had been coddled. But not in a bad way—I’d been loved and protected and I wouldn’t feel guilty about that. I had a great family. I had parents who were involved, present, and understanding. I had aunts and uncles who were the same. I had cousins and siblings who all bickered and argued but loved fiercely.

  But my life hadn’t been perfect. Far from it. My family knew pain, we knew hardship. However, when we hit trouble we stuck together and fought our way through.

  Walkers didn’t quit.

  Yet, I had. I quit Trey when he needed help.

  My dad would be disappointed in me. Heck, I was disappointed in myself.

  After teaching an hour-long yoga session, I was in no more of a mood to have lunch with Jake than I was before class. I’d tried my best to relax into the poses and find my center. Nothing worked, I couldn’t stop th
inking about Trey and what Hadley told me. I’d been hasty and had reacted poorly to Trey’s insults. I should’ve called it a day, called my dad, and sought guidance. Or alternately, I could’ve reached out to any of my uncles or to one of the VA counselors. Instead, I allowed him to hurt my feelings, then I’d dismissed him.

  Now I had to endure lunch with Jake and listen to him dredge up a past I didn’t want to remember.

  I saw Jake before he saw me and it gave me the opportunity I hadn’t had when he’d surprised me earlier. He’d changed a lot in the years since I’d seen him last. He’d lost all of his boyish good looks, and now he stood straighter, taller, alert. It was an assumption of course, and perhaps an unfair judgment, but taking in the hard set of his jaw I’d guess he’s lost more than his boyish good looks—he’d lost something more important.

  As if sensing my approach, his gaze cut to me, and right before my eyes Jake stowed the angry blank stare and smiled.

  Yeah, he lost something big. And I didn’t like how easy it was for him to mask his emotions.

  Crap. I didn’t want to have lunch with him.

  “Addy. I wasn’t sure if you’d stand me up.”

  I wish I had it in me to be rude.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting, I needed to sign off on some paperwork.”

  And I needed time to push Trey out of my head.

  “No worries. I’m here the rest of the day. Sprouts okay?”

  Sprouts was a café across the street.

  “Perfect. Do you want to walk?”

  Something flashed across his face but it was so quick I couldn’t read it.

  “If you don’t—”

  “Walking’s fine.” He nodded to the door. I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder and Jake frowned. “Do you want me to carry that?”

  “My purse?”

  “It looks heavy.”

  Maybe I’d been quick to judge; it seemed there was still a bit of the old Jake left in him.

  “It’s fine. Besides, you’re in uniform and if I remember correctly it’s against regs for you to carry my purse.”