by Mj Fields
It was a big deal. Still is. It’s a fucking nightmare come true. It’s a reminder of all those men I see come home from war and flip their shit, knowing damn well that’s not who they are. And it’s certainly not who they would choose to be if they had a choice.
I hit her, and she professed her love to me. There is no way in hell I would ever let a woman love me after that.
Never.
“Luke, you coming down? Lunch is ready,” Lauren calls up to me.
“Yep,” I answer as I look away from Ava’s window and walk out of my room.
***
After lunch, we sit down in the living room, and Ryan pulls out a deck of cards.
“Pitch?”
“Sounds great.” I nod.
Not sure why, but honestly, whenever I am home, it feels like the world stops. As relaxing as it is, I’m not a relaxing kind of man, so after all this relaxation, I am dog-ass tired.
After playing cards for hours, I tell everyone I’m going to shower before we head to Harper and Maddox’s place. When I walk into my room and see a reflection of light pass through the window, I look out the window and see that fucking asshole’s Land Rover pull in, and I’m pretty damn sure Ava is sitting on the passenger side.
The muscles in my neck tense when I allow myself to think about what exactly she is doing lying across the front seat. I swear, if she is giving him fucking road-head, I am going to blow a fucking gasket because, all those fucking times I was home and fucking her, I never got a blow job. I never even got to eat her pussy. She was always too fucking wound up and needy.
I look away when they walk into her garage and disappear, having no fucking right to be angry, but I am. So fucking angry.
I throw my clothes off, and then I can’t stop myself from walking over and looking toward her house again.
In the kitchen window, I see her. Then I see his hands on her. She turns around so her back is to me, and the fucking asshole’s eyes meet mine. He gives me a shitass grin as he lifts her up.
Doesn’t take a genius to know what’s going on. He’s fucking her, knowing damn well I am watching, and he’s fucking enjoying it.
I turn away, now knowing he doesn’t deserve her any more than I do.
***
When we pull into Harper’s, I see the punk-ass Brit’s vehicle and know I have to play nice. She’s not mine. Never was.
Walking in behind Mom and Ryan, Mom laughs, asking, “The party started early and no one told us?”
“Ava and”—Lucas points to T—“T surprised us.”
I see Ava look at me, and then quickly at T, giving him a huge smile.
“T has asked for Ava’s hand in marriage.” Lucas smiles, but it’s pretty obvious he’s forcing it.
“Oh, my God.” Mom looks at the rock on her finger. “Holy shit! Look at that!” Then she hugs her.
“Thanks, Jade,” Ava says, looking at me briefly, clearly trying to see how I will react.
“Congratulations, Ava.” Ryan hugs her next.
“Congratulations, Ava,” I smile at her since it’s expected.
“Thank you, Luke.” She smiles back, a genuine one. “Hey, what are you doing home?”
“Our boy rolled his ankle during training, so he’s home until Wednesday when he flies into God only knows where to meet his team,” Ryan answers, patting my back. “Last mission, right, son?”
I nod. “Last mission.”
The drummer boy is glaring at me, so I smile and tell him, “Congratulations, Thomas.”
T nods, not saying a word.
***
At dinner, T asks questions that are none of his fucking business.
“How long will you be deployed?”
“Six months.”
“That’s too bad. You’ll miss the wedding.” He reaches over and pulls Ava against him. She smiles at him, nothing fake or forced.
“When is the wedding?” Tessa asks.
“We haven’t set a date yet,” Ava answer.
“But she was okay with getting married the night I asked her,” T boasts.
“I’d have a problem with that,” Lucas sneers, and I can’t help laughing. What the hell else can a man like me do in a situation like this?
T shrugs. “Whatever she wants, I’ll give her.”
He looks at me, and I know that look. He thinks he has won. He thinks he has Ava, the girl who told me she loved me just weeks ago. The girl who told me she always will, and I reacted like a man like me always did. I crushed her with words, with the only truth I could give her.
My truth.
What I didn’t expect was that what she said to me would be true.
“I am going to fill that hole you have created so that, when you pull your head out of whatever darkness it’s settled in, there is no room for a do-over.”
I would never ask her for a do-over. Never. I am a man of my word, and my words were harsh, unjustly so given the circumstances, but a girl like Ava needs that in order to walk away.
My words were a gift to her. She doesn’t know it, but it’s true.
Her gift is now my hell, and that hell has a British accent and voyeuristic ways. I don’t want that for her. She deserves better. Always has.
“Is it in hostile territory?” T asks me.
I glance at Ava, hoping she sees that he’s a little bitch, and an undeserving one at that.
I continue to look at her as I address him. “Usually is. But I’ll be fine.”
She looks away quickly, standing up to help clear the table.
“I think we’re going to head back to the house,” Ava says as she helps clear the table.
“Why so soon?” Lucas asks her and the loud mouth fucking peacock.
“She’s been working on a big case, traveling all over. She’ll be traveling for a few weeks, right, love?”
Ava nods.
“She’s one hell of a lawyer,” asshole says as he stands and hugs her.
“She’s worked her ass off to become one,” Lucas adds.
“And she’ll continue if that’s what she wants. Although, it is totally unnecessary,” T says, narrowing his eyes slightly as he looks at her.
It rubs me the wrong fucking way.
A little while later, Harper and Ava are chatting, and Ryan and Lucas are as well. I see T walk outside and decide to follow him. Fucker needs to know a few things.
As he walks back from starting the vehicle, he looks at me. I can tell he knew damn well I would be here.
He smiles and shakes his head as he walks closer. “You know you fucked up, right, Lane? But here’s the deal. I’m not pissed at you, brother. I want to hug you. Thank you. Fuck, I may even name our first child after you.”
“You don’t deserve her any more than I do. The difference is, I care enough to walk away. I have known her since she was a little girl when she used to tell everyone she was a princess. Hell, I believed she was just as much as she did back then. You are no fucking prince, and—”
“I don’t deserve her any more than you do? You must have sniffed too many fucking chemicals over in that desert, brother. That woman is a fucking princess, a goddess. I knew it from the moment I saw her years ago. And, in just a few months, she’ll be my queen.”
“Your queen?” I laugh. “A woman you fuck, knowing another man is watching? You are a sick fuck; you know that?”
“Some men”—he laughs as he says it—“need to see with their own fucking eyes when a woman has moved on. Just because she was sitting around, waiting for you all those years, doesn’t mean she will forever. Hell, the day after you last fucked her, I made love to her. Made. Love. To Ava. She said she’s never had it so well.”
“After all those pictures of the two of you over the years at my fucking family functions, don’t you think, if she loved you enough to marry you, she’d have known then?” I ask.
He tsks, “She was fucking you and living in her own head, believing in a childhood fairy tale she created.”
“She’s a
lways been a dreamer,” I snap. “Your fucking point?”
“My point, motherfucker, is, you had her for seven years and didn’t deserve her. My point is, you are a sorry piece of shit for not seeing beyond your dick and seeing her”—he pokes me in the chest—“for who she is. My point is, I am her true love. Love doesn’t work the way she believed. She loved you enough to allow you to fuck others and her? What the hell—”
“She was fucking others, too,” I snap defensively.
He shakes his head. “And the U.S. Army trusts you to defend her? What a fucking joke. Stupid, stupid man—”
“Now, you listen to me, you pompous, little prick.” I poke him in the chest like he did me. “Word is word. She and I made a deal—”
He laughs. “Wow, some men are so incredulous. Are you the fucking heroic type? The men who protect and serve?” He laughs again. “Fucking idiot.”
I’m ready to break his fucking neck. The worst part is that I can do it in two seconds, and I know that.
“You hurt her, and you’ll see what a hero is. I will rip you apart with my bare hands. You hear me?”
“Hear you? Like your opinion or words mean dick to me. Ava and I are getting married. We’re already trying to start our family. You’ll rip me apart? Pft. I will fucking shatter you and make it look like an accident. Stay the fuck away from her. You hear me?” he mocks. “Stay. The fuck. Away.”
I am two seconds from killing him when Ava walks out.
“Hey, guys. What’s going on?” she asks in a tone filled with nervous anxiety.
“Getting some fresh air,” I tell her quickly.
“You ready to get home, Ava?” T asks, giving me a taunting smile.
“What I’m ready for is peace!” she snaps, fully aware there is an issue.
I glare at her, pissed at the discoveries I made. Her word was not good. She lied to me.
“I hope you’ve found it.”
“I’m pretty sure I have,” she says, her voice again full of nervousness. “T?”
He doesn’t budge.
“Thomas Hardy, are you gonna stay here all night? I’m going home,” she says as she walks past him.
“You’re driving, Ava. Your boy’s drunk,” I tell her, my eyes deadlocked with his.
She gets defensive.
Defending him.
Fuck.
“Enough.” She points at me then him. “Let’s go.”
“Good luck.” I laugh, feeling anger as I walk into the house.
***
I have reflected too damn much these past few days. Emotions make a person weak. Feelings cause emotions. More to the point, sadness, anger, hurt, worry—those emotions cause weakness. I allow myself to feel emotions here at home.
Ryan, for all intents and purposes, is my father. I have guilt and shame for how I spoke about him to Ava. The man has been nothing but kind to me. Always has. He loves me, and I love him.
Worry for his health is at the forefront of my mind. I will hold on to the strongest emotion—hope—that he is all right, that he is fine. But damn if I can’t sense the worry in Mom.
She lost a man she loved once, the man whose shadow I live in here, always have. She is strong, but a lot of her strength comes from Ryan’s kindness and his love. Without him, Mom would have forever been conflicted about ever moving on in life, knowing that Tommy Lane was replaced. She would have been crushed. My brother and sisters would not be here.
Then I reflect on how I don’t want to tarnish the memory of my father, a man who was, from what I hear, perfect. But damn, my family makes that hard when they make me need to be as good as their Tommy, their hero.
Without me, they would not have a piece of him. And my grandparents get to see the man Tommy would have grown into had he lived his life for himself and not his friends.
The struggle is fucking real. Playing peacekeeper and hero to so many who expect it is the hardest thing I have ever done. But the truth...The truth would crush them.
Then there is Ava. I am so fucking pissed at her. I don’t even want to reflect on that, but I do.
Her needing me, a friend, a protector; her seeing me for the man I needed to become—that was all lies.
A childhood of lies.
The girl who showed her soul in her words, actions and, to me, in her fucking eyes, made a fool out of me.
Seven years of lies.
I watched her fall apart because I had to let her go. The hurt I caused her that day was less than it would have been if I could have gotten past the shock and anger I felt when she told me she loved me. She was never supposed to love me. We had a deal.
Now...Now she is being true to her word and moving on, filling the void. She is doing it with a man who fucks her knowing I’m standing right there.
I miss the girl who wore a fucking crown and tutu, defended herself against the snickers of peers and playmates with her hands on her hips, scowl on her face, and most of the time, sticking her tongue out at them.
The girl who took no shit from anyone, until she turned away and showed me her eyes.
The girl who I knew was too fucking stubborn for her own good.
The girl who needed a boy to let her stomp and scowl, and go off on tangents, and be pissed when anyone stepped on a spider, yet was terrified of them.
My chest tightens at the memory of Ava’s childhood hurt.
My chest tightens at her strength and determination, regardless of the detriment it has to her true feeling.
My chest tightens knowing, in some twisted, six-degrees of separation, she is just like me, except her fight is external and mine is internal.
Do I love Ava Links?
The truth is...yes.
Yes, I fucking love her.
Yes, I fucking want her.
But the deeper truth is that I would never be able to love her and myself at the same time.
As fucked up as that sounds, my internal battle burns, and the only way I can keep it extinguished is by being the man I have become.
I am the best man I can be when I am away from here. Away from home.
Away from her.
Ava.
A girl who said she loved me, and I pushed away.
The girl who told me I crushed her gave me back the pain I dished out. And it fucking hurts.
But I am no longer her protector. He is.
At the same time, I am a man of my word. If he hurts her, I will fucking kill him.
CHAPTER THREE
Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine. - Lizzie Hart Stevens
LUKE
Turkey
It’s been two months since my visit home. Ryan is doing well. I know this because I keep in touch with them through a secure video chat session.
“Hey, Mom,” I say quietly when she comes on one of the chat sessions. “Everyone’s asleep, so we need to keep it short. How are things?”
The pause in the feed is irritating. It’s why I hate doing these things.
“They can’t seem to find what’s causing his PSA levels to be so high. They will continue checking his levels. He’s fine for now. Tell me about you.”
“All is well, Mom.” I smile and nod.
“Hello, there.”
I look over my shoulder at Trigger.
“Back off, man,” I whisper.
“Not my fault your sister is so incredibly sexy.” He winks at my mom.
“That’s my mother.”
“Been in the desert awhile, soldier?” my mom says with a laugh.
“No, ma’am. 20/20 vision and a great appreciation for beautiful women.”
“And married,” I remind him.
“Speaking of marriage,” Mom’s voice comes through the speakers. “Ava and T are expecting.”
“Miss A?” Killshot whispers in shock.
I shoot him a warning glare, and he shuts the fuck up.
“Excepting?” I ask, really hoping my mom isn’t saying what I’m thinking she is.
Mom smiles. “She’s having a
baby. Don’t tell anyone, though. I overheard Lucas and Tessa.”
Fuck!
“Who am I going to tell?”
“I wish you could be home for the wedding. It’s going to be so wonderful.”
I smile and nod. “Gotta work. Tell her I want nothing but happiness for her.”
“I know. Last mission, right?” she asks, just like every time I leave, and I answer with what she needs to hear from me.
I nod. “Love you, Mom. Talk next week?”
When I close the laptop and disconnect the line, I lean back and see both Trigger and Killshot staring at me.
I roll my eyes and look away.
“Hell no. Let’s talk about this,” Kill says.
“Talk about what?” I ask as I stand up. “Got nothing to talk about.”
“Girl you’ve been yanking the crank with for—”
“Fuck if I have been,” I say dismissively.
“Bullshit. Mail day, you disappear to the bathroom for an hour,” Trigger ribs.
“Not your business,” I say, looking out the window to see if the vans down the road have moved.
“What are you gonna do about it?” Kill asks.
I turn around and look at him. “Not the time or the place.”
“Get it off your mind,” Trigger says.
“It’s off my mind.”
“Could that kid be yours?” Kill asks.
I shake my head. “No. Ava—”
“Oh, so she does have a name,” Trigger jokes.
I roll my eyes and look away. “She would not be marrying him if she was pregnant with my kid. Not mine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I am.” I look back out the window. They are doubting what I know, yet I know Ava.
“Get some sleep. I’ll take watch,” Kill offers.
I nod then walk over to the bed I made on the floor. Lying down, I stare at the ceiling before forcing myself to close my eyes and picture anything but her.
I despise her.
Lies.
Fucking lies.
Loved me? Fuck that. She wants to ruin me.
Unable to get comfortable, I roll to my side and focus on the mission.
Three vans. Two black and one white. We wait for the return of one of the black ones that carries the number ten most wanted terrorist in the world. The Sandman. The man who is said to be worse than Hussein.
