by JM Stewart
His head snapped up then, and the hurt in those beautiful blue eyes took her breath away. His walls were crumbling. “This goes a little beyond you being moody, don’t you think? It’s like living with a fucking child. I can’t ask you to do that. Never mind that I could have hurt you. It happens, you know. Guys who end up beating the hell out of their wives because they’re lost in a flashback and don’t realize it until it’s too late. I thought you were one of them. When I came to and you reached for me in the dark? I thought you were one of them.”
His voice cracked, and he ducked his head, drawing a deep breath that vibrated through him.
“I beat the hell out of one of them once. I was winning, too. Right before I got the butt end of a rifle to the back of my head. I woke up chained to a fucking cement wall with the mother of all headaches.”
Her heart twisted. He truly believed what he said, that he was a walking time bomb, ready to detonate at any second. She ached to wrap her arms around him and hold him until he stopped shaking, but would he even let her? She settled, instead, for taking his hands and peering into his face. “You would never hurt me, Ty.”
She knew that with every fiber of her being. Whoever he fought in his dreams, given what he’d told her, he appeared to be trying to save someone. That was Tyler in a nutshell. The big guy with a heart of gold.
He laughed, bitter and sardonic. “I’m glad you think so, because I’m not so sure anymore.”
“I am sure. I spooked you. That’s all it was. I have some adjusting to do. We’ll have to learn how to be together again. I have a few repeat customers who have sons with PTSD. I can ask for advice. What I can’t do is live without you. Been there, tried that. It didn’t work.”
He gave a slow, miserable shake of his head. His voice lowered to a pained murmur, so quiet she had to lean in to hear him. “I can’t even take care of you, Cass. I’m an emotional wreck. I don’t have a job. Just the vague prospect of one. One I likely won’t get because I’m no doubt going to fail those psych evals. I’d be asking you to accept half the man you deserve.”
She reached up, meaning to stroke his cheek, but he flinched, and she sighed, pulling her hand back. “You went through something, Ty. You have to give yourself time to heal from it. And no offense, baby, but I don’t need you to take care of me. I just need you to make love to me, then hold me while I sleep.”
Tossing humor at him was a desperate attempt to reach him, but it worked. His hard façade cracked, one corner of his mouth hitching upward. “Leave it to you to bring sex into this.”
She let out a quiet laugh and ducked her head to look him in the eye again. “I need you, Ty. I need you in my life. If you can handle my fucked-up-ness, I can handle yours.”
He looked up then, meeting her gaze. His had softened around the edges, his eyes still tormented but more open than they’d been. He lifted a hand, caressing her cheek with his fingers, awe in his voice. “I love you, you know that? I don’t deserve you, but I do love you.”
“And I know I don’t deserve you. I’m pretty sure you should have left my ass a long time ago, but I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” She glanced down at the blood-stained carpeting and smiled. “Now how ’bout we get you cleaned up, hmm? You’re bleeding on my carpet.”
* * *
Two weeks later…
Cassie came awake to quiet moaning and someone calling her name. Disoriented, she opened her eyes, blinking at the dark ceiling above her, and listened for whatever had woken her. Beside her, Tyler shifted on the bed, letting out a quiet moan.
“No. Cassie!”
She turned onto her side, facing him. He lay on his side as well, features twisted in agony. For a moment, she could only watch him, heart heavy. Every night for the last fourteen days, it had been the same. He stayed—because she’d asked him to—and every night, he had the dreams. Nights were torture for him. He was always restless beside her, moaning or calling out someone’s name. Sometimes the name of the woman captured with him, sometimes Cassie’s, but every time his voice filled with anguish.
It hurt her heart to watch him struggle with himself. He had to watch his friends die, had had to listen to his attackers rape and torture them, had been tortured himself. It had all etched itself on his soul. She couldn’t help wondering if her presence brought this out in him. Were the dreams worse because he slept beside her? Or were they always this bad?
He called out again, this time reaching toward her. Cassie clutched his fingers, giving them a reassuring squeeze. Instead of him quieting and settling back to sleep, though, his eyes snapped open, searching her face in wide-eyed panic.
“It’s okay, Ty. It’s just me. I’m here.”
He didn’t seem to hear her. Rather, his eyes widened further, and before she could blink, he sprang into motion, rolling over the top of her. He leaned his upper body into her, holding her down with his chest and shoulders, then used his hands to pull her wrists to her sides and set his knees on her arms. Before she could even think of what to do, he’d effectively rendered her helpless.
Her pulse kicked up several notches, thundering in her ears, as panic rose over her. Shit. What the hell did she do now?
He laid one hand across her throat, a casual threat, and leaned down, until she was taking each breath with him. “I’m going to take your fucking head off.”
The deathly calm in his voice had fear slithering like ice down her spine as the realization sank over her at what, exactly, was happening. He was lost in his dream. Night terrors. Isn’t that what they called this? Or was this a flashback? Jesus. She didn’t know, but the beautiful blue eyes she’d stared into a thousand times didn’t seem to see her at all. They were unfocused, flitting back and forth, filled with a mix of emotion that made her want to weep. Pain. Anger.
Fear.
“For every time you raped her. For every injury you caused them. For every day you shoved that rifle in my face, for every beating, and for every single fucking one of their deaths.”
He leaned into her, pressing his nose to hers, his hot, harsh breaths puffing against her mouth. Hot tears burned behind Cassie’s eyelids. She’d have to wake him up. Her chest clenched and her eyes refilled. When he came around, he’d no doubt hate himself, but if she didn’t stop him…
She swallowed past the lump burning in her throat and drew her wits about her. “Tyler, wake up. Come on, soldier boy, wake up.”
When he didn’t move or even acknowledge that he’d heard her, she pushed against his hold on her arms, attempting to touch him, but to no avail. He outweighed her by fifty pounds at least. She could barely flap her hands, let alone lift them. Hot tears rolled from the corners of her eyes as her mind took the moment and ran. Was this how he’d felt? Trapped and helpless?
“I’m going to make sure you can’t hurt anyone ever again.”
He leaned on her throat this time, making it harder to breathe. Wetness dropped onto her cheek, Tyler’s tears mixing with hers. He was crying, mourning in his sleep for the friends he’d lost, for the pain he’d endured. Cassie bit back a choked sob and her chest tightened until she couldn’t breathe. Even angry, his only thought wasn’t revenge, but fighting to save his friends. For the woman whose terror-filled screams he relived night after night.
She swallowed hard, drew a shaky breath, and tried again. Stretching her fingers as far as she could, she managed to stroke his thigh and tried to keep her voice as calm as possible. “It’s Cassie. Wake up, Tyler. You’re safe. Do you hear me? You’re safe. You’re with me. It’s over.”
By the time she finished, her voice was wobbling with the pain and fear she couldn’t hold back. She should have done her research. She should have insisted they talk about this. It hadn’t sunk in exactly how bad it was for him, had stupidly thought she could handle whatever he went through on her own. As it was, she had no idea how to reach him.
Tyler froze above her, stared at her for a second, and cocked his head to the side. “Cassie?”
She stre
tched her fingers out again, caressing his thigh with the tips. “That’s right, it’s me. You’re dreaming. Turn on the light, honey. Get up and turn on the light. It’s just a dream.”
He tilted his head to look between their bodies. Moving slowly, he released her and sat upright, straddling her stomach. She couldn’t see his eyes anymore, but his questioning gaze burned into her. Without a word, he climbed off her and made his way to the switch on the wall beside the door. When the light flicked on, illuminating the darkness, Tyler turned, blinking against the sudden brightness. He stared at her, gaze searching, brow twisted in confusion.
Cassie sat up, leaned back against the headboard, and massaged the feeling back into her hands. Heart thumping, she let him have the moment to himself. She didn’t want to startle him any more than she already had.
Finally, he blinked, and understanding and recognition dawned over him. Regret took shape in his eyes, and he drew his shoulders back, standing straight and stiff. “What did I do?”
The barely contained panic in his voice had a lump rising in her throat. Unable to bear watching his reaction, she shut her eyes.
“Please don’t ask.” She plastered on the best smile she could muster. “Just come back to bed. Leave the light on and come back to bed.”
“What did I do, Cassie?”
This time, his tone was a command and a plea. A single tear rolled from the corner of her eye. She couldn’t tell him this. It would be a wound on his soul. He’d think himself a monster, and she couldn’t do that to him.
“God, I hurt you, didn’t I?”
His words drifted to her, small and quiet but full of an acceptance that made her stomach hurt. She opened her eyes but wished she hadn’t. The anguish in his beautiful blues was too much to bear. He’d already accepted his statement as fact.
She shook her head. “You didn’t hurt me, I promise. You just…pinned me to the bed.”
She didn’t have the courage to tell him what he’d said to her. It was more than enough to know he’d touched her in anger at all. No way could she tell him he’d threatened her. He wouldn’t care that technically he’d threatened the person he thought her to be.
Tyler strode around the end of the bed, stood over her, brow furrowed in determination, and held out his hands. “Let me see.”
“Don’t do this, Ty. Nothing good will come of it.” She patted the bed beside her. “Just come back to bed.”
He shook his hands, the grooves between his brows deepening. “Let. Me. See.”
She closed her eyes, unable to stop a couple more tears from rolling down her cheeks. When she didn’t obey his demand, Tyler picked up her wrists, turning them over. Several seconds passed in silence. Tension rose over the room. Cassie’s heart clenched.
“Jesus Christ.”
He released her arms, and Cassie opened her eyes. Tyler stood by the side of the bed, dragging his hands over the top of his head, eyes wide as saucers. She scooted across the bed and reached out, but before she could make contact, Tyler backed away from her. “I need to go home. This was such a bad idea.”
“Please don’t go.”
If he heard her, he didn’t acknowledge her, but he made his way around the room, gathering his clothing from where he’d flung it the night before and got dressed. He pulled on and buttoned his jeans, yanked on his T-shirt, shoved his feet into his socks, and headed for the bedroom door without so much as a backward glance.
The aching in her heart told her she was losing him. Even that awful night three years ago, when they’d hurled insults at each other and he’d told her to get the hell out of his apartment, he’d never shut her out. Tyler always had something to say. Now he simply turned and left, back stiff, shoulders straight. A man who keeps moving because he has to.
When he reached the door, panic closed around her, and she called out to him, desperate to stop him.
“Will I see you later?” God, she was the needy girl all over again, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say that might stop him.
“I don’t know.” Tyler didn’t so much as glance in her direction but moved through the doorway, striding away from her like a man on a mission. Seconds later, the front door closed with a quiet snap, leaving her alone in the aching silence.
Cassie scooted to the end of the bed, staring at the empty doorway. One by one, tears collected in her eyes. She was losing him all over again.
Chapter Thirteen
Tyler stared at his phone, seated on the table in front of him. His breakfast went forgotten as he pulled up Cassie’s number and her face flashed on the small screen. God, how he ached to call her. Just to hear her voice. A week had passed since he’d seen her, and he was definitely going through withdrawals. He missed every damn thing about her. Her smile. Her laugh. The stubborn lift of her chin when she was determined to do something.
He’d done a lot of thinking over the last week. That night in her condo had been a low point. It made him take a good long look at his life and what he wanted from it, and he only knew one thing: he wanted her. If he ever hoped to get back, he had to stop sitting around feeling sorry for himself and start learning how to live like a normal person again. And it started by admitting he couldn’t do it on his own. That he needed help.
Cassie had ended up being his inspiration. His reason to pick himself up and get moving. The same way she had while he was in Iraq. Sitting in that dank cell, she’d been his reason to keep fighting. She’d saved him.
He hated himself for the way he’d treated her this week. He hadn’t so much as called her, and she had to be feeling like he’d tossed her aside, like she meant nothing to him. At first, he was simply overwhelmed by it all. The fear of hurting her lived and breathed inside of him, no longer a simple worry, but a distinct possibility. But before he could ever trust himself around her again, he wanted a working plan of action.
Now he just had to pray it worked. Because he couldn’t lose her. Not again.
His mother glanced at him as she came around the corner. Dressed and ready for work, she called to him as she made her way into the kitchen. “I’m almost ready. Just let me grab some coffee, then we can go.”
He shook his head, raising his voice so she could hear him in the kitchen as he closed the screen on his phone. “Do you really think she’ll go for it?”
Thanks to the new therapist he was seeing, he now had a plan, one he was about to set into motion. The question was, would Cassie even want to see him? When she figured out she wasn’t meeting his mother, would she turn around and walk away? That was the thing, he couldn’t be sure he’d blame her if she did. He only knew he had to try. For her.
He rested his elbow on the table and raked a hand through his hair. His military crew cut had grown out over the last month. Now when he dragged his fingers through it, he couldn’t stop seeing Cassie’s long nails doing the same thing. The way her small, slender fingers would slide along his scalp. God, that was bliss.
“I can’t stop seeing the look on her face. She’s never looked at me like that before.” The fear in Cassie’s eyes that night haunted him. She’d tried to hide it, but he’d seen it. He’d scared the hell out of her. “I left marks on her wrists. I could have done real damage. She managed to reach me before my mind got too far into the memory, but what if she can’t next time?”
His mother came out of the kitchen, coffee cup in one hand, and laid the other on his shoulder. “You went through something traumatic, and you’re healing. That makes you human, not a monster. You’re not alone anymore. It’s time to let her back in. Let her help you find the answers.” She bent to kiss the top of his head. “I’m ready. Drop me at work, then take my car and go get your girl.”
* * *
By the time he made it to the fountain at the base of the Space Needle, he was fifteen minutes late. His mother had told Cassie to meet her here at one, but traffic getting down here had been a bitch. Paper shopping bag tucked under one arm, he jogged down the sidewalk from the parking lot, sc
anning the area as he ran. It was a rare sunny day. The clouds had cleared, which meant everyone had come outside to enjoy it. People littered the area, but Cassie was nowhere to be seen.
Doubt rose over him. Maybe she’d figured it all out and had decided not to come. Or maybe she’d gotten tired of waiting and went home.
He was late because he’d stopped at a repair shop on his way there. He’d decided something else this week. He was leaving the army behind. The realization had come to him while he worked on his bike late one night. He had no desire to go back overseas and relive the hell. Doing so would likely only make everything worse, which would do nothing but set him back to square one. He wanted to move forward, not backward.
So he’d called his commanding officer after talking to his mother this morning. He’d given Intel the info he knew on the insurgents who’d held him, for the families of the soldiers who died, but he was getting on with his life. And it started with getting a job.
The idea had come to him after a phone call he’d gotten yesterday. One of the guys he’d served with had seen him on the news and looked him up. Turned out, he owned a custom bike shop. So he’d gone down there on a wing and a prayer. What started out as a conversation between friends ended with them offering him a job.
For the first time since he’d gotten home, outside of the time he spent with Cassie, he didn’t feel so damn useless. Having somewhere to go every day and friends to hang out with who understood his struggles went a long way toward helping him feel human again. It was one more item that would hopefully prove to her that he could be what she needed.
Tyler came to a stop at the edge of the grassy expanse surrounding the Space Needle and turned, scanning the area again when a sight halted him in his tracks. Cassie. She strode across the grass, her head turning as if in search of something. Or someone.
The simple sight of her threatened to bring him to his knees. A week felt like forever. To see her here, of all places, filled him with hope. This was where they’d met. Four years ago, at the Fourth of July fireworks display they threw every year at the Needle. She’d barreled into him at the edge of the grass right over there. Instead of a short skirt, though, she wore jeans, and those blasted black boots instead of heels, but she looked just as gorgeous.
