All for Allie (Shaken Series)

by Bailes, J

  Kyle rushes me and backs me up against the door, the tips of his toes touch mine. We are head- to-head, staring daggers into each other. “I should kill you this very instant. Save her from the heartache later,” he spits.

  “The fuck you say?” I ask, pushing him away from me. “You put me in this situation, you ignorant shit! You know it’ll kill her if something happens to you, but you couldn’t care less!” I push him again, causing him to stumble backwards. “I’m coming to keep you safe, protect her from experiencing the sting of death, again.” I explain.

  Kyle’s hands push deep into my shoulders, knocking me backwards. “I don’t need you to keep me safe! I’m only her brother! You’re the man she’s supposed to spend the rest of her life with, not me! I love her, but she’s my sister, not my lover! And yes, a piece of me is doing this so she can have a future, but we’ll grow apart. You two are supposed to grow old together, man. She needs you more than me. Can’t you see that?” he asks, his voice lowering from a scream to a strangled whisper.

  As I look into his face, I see that it’s etched with concern. “You’re wrong; she needs you. She loves me, but she loves you more. You’ve spent your entire lives together. I’ve only known her for a few years. If something happens to me, she’ll get over it; she’ll move on. I’m not her blood, bro, you are.”

  He covers his face with his hands. “Are you planning on telling her?” he asks. “Of course I’m going to tell her. Why wouldn’t I?” Kyle shakes his head, vigorously. “No. No, Wyatt. You can’t tell her.”

  What does he mean I can’t tell her? I have to. “What?” I ask.

  “You can’t tell her. She won’t let you go, emotionally I mean. She’ll worry every day. She’ll spend her days watching the news, wondering if you’re alive, wondering if you’re coming home. She won’t live her life until she has you in it. That’s not what I want for her,” he expresses.

  I don’t want that for her either. I want her to live her life to the fullest; that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her. I want her to go to college, attend frat parties, and be careless for once. She needs to experience all the joy life has to offer. “I don’t want that either, but I can’t lie to her. I can’t just vanish, Kyle,” I explain.

  “Yes, you can,” he grins. How can he possibly grin right now? He snaps his fingers and points toward the ceiling as if a light bulb has went off in his head “You can break up with her, tonight,” he suggests.

  Oh, fuck no! I won’t do it. “No,” I say firmly.

  “Yes. It’s the only way. You’ll break her heart, but she’ll put it back together and find someone else in a matter of months.” Ouch. That stung, a lot. A month? Really? We’ve been together for almost two years, and he thinks she can move on that fast? Obviously, he underestimates the amount of love Allie and I have for each other. “I can’t, man. Hell will freeze over before I sit down and lie to her, especially to her face. Tell her I no longer love her? I just— I can’t.” I’ve already lied to her once, I refuse to do it again.

  “Okay. Well, we have a minimum of what, nine to ten weeks of training, right? Tell her you’re going out of town to visit someone,” he suggests.

  She’ll call my bullshit; she knows that I don’t have anyone.

  “Won’t work, she knows I don’t have any other family.”

  He paces the floor as he thinks up another plan. “You got a job. Tell her your scholarship was cut and you need to make up the difference. Construction. Tell her you got a temporary construction job outside of Jacksonville. That’s believable.”

  Believable, yet still a lie.

  “Kyle, do you listen to a damn thing anyone ever tells you? We’re forbidden contact with anyone outside of basic training, unless it’s letters and pictures from immediate family members only, dumbass,” I remind. See, this is what I’m talking about, he doesn’t pay attention for shit. If he can’t remember what he is or isn’t allowed to do during training, how in the hell is he going to remember codes and shit for when he’s in action? Hell, there’s a high possibility that he might just get both of our asses killed.

  ***

  I’ve spent the entire day hidden in Kyle’s room, hiding from Allie. Kyle has been in and out a few times to keep the suspicion of me being here low. Allie has called me several times, but I’ve only picked up twice. Each time I’ve answered, I hid out in Kyle’s closet to muffle my voice, just in case she was in the next room over. She found my whispering unusual, but I assured her I was at the doctor. That was earlier. Now, it’s just before dinner and I have no excuse as to why I would be whispering. So I continue to ignore her calls, and only respond to her texts.

  My phone buzzes again just as Kyle comes back into his room. “How the hell am I going to make it out of here and back for dinner before Allie realizes I’ve been here the entire time?” Kyle covers his mouth and laughs, loudly. “Really? Happy I amuse you,” I state. I want to know what’s so damn funny. “Why are you laughing, asshole?” I ask, stinging his shoulder with a punch.

  “Al already knows you’re here, man.” He continues to laugh as he walks to his window. He pulls the blinds up and gestures out to the driveway. “Your truck is parked in the drive, genius.” Oh hell, really? Fuck! I forgot about that. I walk over and stare out the window. My jaw drops as if I’ve never seen this Jeep a day in my life. I face palm myself and mentally cuss at my own stupidity.

  “Seriously, you’re laughing? You’re supposed to have my back! You just let me sit up here all day and look stupid? What the hell, man?” He watched me go into his closet to take Allie’s calls, and he was aware that she knew I was here? What a dick-like move.

  “I know. I’m sorry, but she threatened my manhood if I told you that she knew,” he shrugs. Here I am, ready to take bullets for him, and he’s worried about getting a kick to the balls from his baby sister?

  “Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but if you’re scared to receive a blow to your balls from your baby sis, you have no manhood, bro,” I say, poking my fingers into his chest.

  “Not true. We taught her well. You know she’s got mad ball-kickin’ skills.” I shake my head as I exit his room, and go on my search for Allie. I know I’m about to have an earful, and I don’t even know how to explain myself.

  “Wyatt? Huh, what a surprise. Everything go okay at the doctor’s?” she asks, fighting hard to contain her grin.

  I take a step back and push my hands into my pockets. I hang my head and avert my eyes to the floor. I’m embarrassed about lying. “I know that you know,” I shrug.

  “Uh-huh, Kyle told you, didn’t he?” She glares over my shoulder at the door that leads into Kyle’s room behind me, ready to unleash her badass skills. I smile at her cockiness; she’s small yet feisty.

  “Yeah.” I hang my head a little lower in an attempt to hide my smile that continues to grow at her adorableness.

  “Are you laughing at me?” she asks, stepping closer to me. I shake my head and bite my lip, trying my damnedest not to smile.

  She squats down before me and lifts her head; her eyes bore into mine. “Uh, yes, you are,” she acknowledges.

  I cock my head and nod slightly. “Okay, maybe just a little,” I admit.

  “So, I amuse you? Jerk,” she says, standing up in front of me. I lift my head and place my hands onto her hips, pulling her into me.

  “Oh babe, you definitely amuse me,” I wink. She slaps my chest, but it doesn’t sting in the least. Actually, her playful slaps turn me on. I pull her hips closer into mine, allowing her to feel the growth between us.

  “Seriously? You’ve been avoiding me all day and you think this is going to make me forget about your asshole tendencies?” Her smile disappears, and it causes my chest to feel heavy.

  I haven’t come up with an explanation, so I place my hand under her chin and lift her mouth to mine in attempt to distract her. “I’m sorry, baby,” I apologize, placing a slow and sweet kiss onto her lips. I feel her shiver as our lips connect, and I know that m
y touch has her brain scattered. My goal is to make her forget my ignorance, so I run my other hand up her spine and kiss her again. “Forgive me?” I ask, hoping my tactics work. She nods as our lips remain attached.

  I back her against the wall as my tongue claims her mouth. She runs her hands up and down the back of my neck and pulls my face closer into hers. I reach down to pick her up, and I urge her legs around my waist. “Oh no, not in this house,” Kyles interrupts, stalking past us to the stairs. He turns back and examines us before taking a step. “I mean it. I’ll fight you, Wyatt. You do not want another piece of this,” he announces, flexing the muscles in his arms.

  “For real? Those anthills? I’m done,” I tease, backing away from Allie in surrender. “That’s what I thought,” Kyle throws over his shoulder as he makes his way downstairs.

  Once Kyle is out of sight, I reach my hand out for Allie. Reluctantly, she reaches out and places her hand in mine. “Don’t think that I’ve forgotten your avoiding me, Wyatt Cooper. That stunt you just pulled may have distracted me momentarily, but I still haven’t forgotten,” she reminds.

  I smile, shake my head, and place a kiss on the top of her head. “You forgave me, babe. You can’t bring it back up.” She rolls her eyes and bites back her smile as the corners of her lips twitch. As I admire her beauty, her sense of humor, and her love for me, I have no idea how I’ll survive when we’re across the world from one another.

  Five

  Embrace The Moment

  IT’S JUST PAST eight in the evening and Allie and I are just returning to her house after a three-mile jog. Damn Lucille and her badass cooking skills. Her stuffed peppers, mac and cheese, and mashed potatoes have my stomach ready to bust open at any given moment. There is no wasting food in her house. If you do, there’s no dessert. And who would pass up her delicious fudge-brownie pie? Um, not me. “You think you could go for another mile?” Allie asks as we approach her doorstep.

  Not really, no.

  “I could, but I prefer not to,” I admit, breathless.

  “Someone needs to up their cardio. You seem to have packed on a few pounds over the last couple of months,” she teases. At least, I hope she’s only teasing.

  “Seriously? Did you see how much food that woman placed on my plate?” I ask, seriously.

  “Oh please, one meal didn’t pack those pounds on you,” she says, rolling her eyes. She begins to turn the doorknob, but I place my hand around her wrist. I pull her hand up to rest on top of my bicep.

  “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. This is all muscle, baby,” I assure her, flexing my muscles beneath her hand.

  She takes her hand and squeezes my arm. “Oh yeah? Seems like I have to go through quite a bit of fat to feel your so-called ‘muscle’, babe,” she winks. Her and that smart- ass mouth, it’s sexy. I bend down, pick her up, and throw her over my shoulder. “What the hell are you doing?” she squeals. She doesn’t bother fighting to get down; she knows it’s pointless.

  I swat her ass, walk away from the house and head toward the sidewalk. “You want to run, baby? So run. You have until the count of five to high tail your ass down the road before I tickle you until you piss yourself.” She’s ticklish, and she hates when I make her surrender by her weakness. I glide her down my body and place her feet upon the concrete. “Ready?”

  She places her hand on her hips and cocks her head. “Really, Wyatt?” I nod. “One...two...three,” I begin. “You can’t catch me. You do know that, don’t you?”

  “Four...four and a half...” I continue.

  “Really, it won’t be fair to you. It’s like a newborn catching a toddler. It’s impossible to run when you can’t even crawl,” she huffs.

  “Five,” I finish.

  I reach out to tickle her stomach, but she takes off like a bolt of lightning. Taking in a deep breath, I run after her. She’s a good thirty - feet in front of me, which means I need to pick up speed. “See, you’re slower than a tipsy turtle!” she screams over her shoulder. Tipsy turtle me ass! I pick my feet up and place them one in front of the other, faster than I ever have before.

  I will catch her.

  “Please, I like to let you think you’re fast. We both know that I—” I crash to the ground, hard. Mother. Fucker. These damn dips in people’s driveways shouldn’t exist! They’re a hazard to runners, dammit. I look down to see that my knee is busted open, and blood’s flowing down my shin.... Great.

  “Oh my God!” Allie yells as she runs to me. She stops in front of me and her eyes examine my body. “Are you okay? Oh shit, look at your knee,” she pants. I can hear the panic in her voice as she bends down to examine my open wound.

  I place my scraped up hand to the side of her face and she lifts her glossy eyes to meet mine. “I’m fine.” Anytime Lucille, Kyle, or I get injured, Allie freaks out. If you ask me, she has a touch of post-traumatic stress disorder from losing her dad, but who am I to bring it up.

  “Does it hurt?” she asks concerned.

  I shake my head, “No, baby. It doesn’t hurt,” I assure.

  She lets out a breath and allows her body to relax. “Okay. So you’re okay to walk home?”

  Small chuckles escape me. “I’m good to go, promise. I mean, I can even carry you home, if you’d like,” I say.

  She shakes her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

  Maybe I am, but I would carry her if she wanted me to. I’ll do anything for her, and she knows it. We stand in unison and I drape my arm around her shoulders. As we begin to walk home, warm liquid drips down my leg and pools around my ankle. As we walk, I feel my wound tear a little more, and it takes all my might not to flinch from the pain that’s surging through my entire lower leg.

  Once we arrive to her house, Allie helps me to the couch and runs to grab her mother’s first-aid kit. The benefit of living with a nurse is that they’re ready for anything. And as much as Kyle and I have boxed in her home, she’s remained stocked up on peroxide, alcohol and Band- Aids. Allie rushes back and stands in front of me. She sets the kit onto the coffee table, bends down, and opens it up. She reaches in and removes several items, some of which I do not believe are needed.

  I eye her curiously as she examines my leg. “Babe, you alright?” I ask. She’s standing with her hands on her hips as if she’s confused in some way. She snaps her fingers and takes off to the laundry room. She’s acting like a chicken running around with its head chopped off. She’s acting as if my leg needs to be amputated rather than cleaned.

  She returns with towels folded under her arm and takes a seat on the table in front of me, spreading the towels out under my leg. Reaching down, she grabs my ankle and pulls my leg up into her lap. “Agh!” I blow out, accidently.

  Her head snaps up and her eyes go wide. “That hurt?” she asks, worriedly.

  “No, not really. I’m good, promise. Go ahead,” I urge. She pushes her hair behind her ears and nods. She reaches beside her and picks up the rubbing alcohol. My eyes remain glued to her hands as she begins to unscrew the cap. As I watch her, I wait for her to pour some alcohol into the cap, but she doesn’t. No, she pours half the damn bottle over my knee. “Holy mother of shit!” I seethe between clinched teeth. My leg feels like it’s been doused in gasoline and caught on fucking fire!

  “Oh my God! Wyatt, I’m sorry!” she apologizes. Grabbing onto the arm of the couch, I take in a deep breath to calm myself.

  I reach out and place my hand on top of hers. “It’s okay. Look, I’m fine,” I assure her. I reach out and tilt her chin upwards, lifting her eyes to mine. “Just...you could’ve warned me. I wasn’t expecting you to dump half the bottle on me; that’s all.” She bites her lip and nods. I bring my thumb up beneath her lip and tug it loose from her teeth. “Keep going,” I urge.

  She licks her lips, brings her face down towards my knee, and blows gently. And yes, my knee stings like I’ve stuck it into a wasp’s nest, but her beauty makes the pain almost nonexistent. Her hair’s draping over her shoulders; he
r lips glisten as she blows, and I can’t hold back the hardness from making its debut. What can I say? She’s drop dead gorgeous. Any man who could sit here and watch this without getting a boner wouldn’t have a drop of testosterone within his body. She blows until the wetness from the alcohol left behind is dry. She pulls herself up and digs through the kit, pulling out something that resembles a large Q-tip.

  She picks up the yellow and white tube laid out beside her and twists the cap off. She then squeezes some thick ointment onto the swab and brings it to my wound. Looking up to me, she waits for a cue that it’s okay to proceed. I nod, giving her the go ahead. “This won’t hurt like the alcohol did, promise,” she smiles.

  “Are you smiling.....at hurting me?” I ask bemused. She sucks her cheeks in and bites onto the inside of her cheek in an attempt to contain her laughter. “So, my pain is laughable to you? Amusing?” I ask.

  “What? No,” she replies. She’s cute as fuck, and I love giving her a hard time. Her smile lights up my entire fucking world.

  “No?” I ask, squinting my eyes at her.

  “Okay, maybe a little,” she admits.

  I lean back into the couch and spread my arms out across the back. “Well, amuse me with telling me why in the hell my pain amuses you, baby.”

  She places the cotton swab onto my knee and rubs it around my wound in circular motions, spreading the ointment evenly. “It’s just, well....I don’t know, dammit! You seem so manly, yet such a big-ass baby when it comes to something as simple as pouring a little alcohol over your sore. I’m a little surprised, that’s all,” she shrugs.

  Big-ass baby? Little bit of alcohol? “Uh, that was not a ‘little bit’ of alcohol, babe. You dumped half the damn bottle on me. It’s like pouring salt into it; it fucking stung,” I inform her.

  I am manly. I carry no pussy-like traits.

  She shrugs again. “If you say so.” She pulls out a Band-Aid and rips open the wrapper. As she reaches out to place it over my knee, I capture her hand with mine, preventing her from bandaging my wound. “What?” she asks.