An Act of Courage (Acts of Honor Series Book 4)

by K. C. Lynn

  “What was?” she asks, confusion bright in her tear-filled eyes.

  “This, us.” I gesture to the country club, wishing the reality I’m facing right now wasn’t real. “It will always be like that in there because I don’t fit in, and I never will.”

  “I don’t care about those people.”

  “Then why are we here?”

  “Because it’s my mother, Christopher, and even though I’m angry with her, she’s the only one I have.”

  “Exactly. And she’s never going to change her mind about me.”

  “I don’t care what she thinks.”

  “What happens when you’re invited to the next function? After tonight I will never be allowed back, and to be honest, I don’t want to be. I’m done with being everyone’s fucking punching bag.”

  “You don’t have to. I’d never want that for you. I will go alone, or I won’t go at all.”

  “Is that really what you want? To have to choose every time your mother wants you to be somewhere.”

  “No. I don’t want to be forced to choose but if it comes down to it, I’ll choose you. I’ll always choose you.” Her admission falls on a sob, tearing at the gaping hole in my chest.

  “I can’t let you do that,” I choke out, the words burning my throat like acid. “I won’t let you choose me over this opportunity. I won’t let you choose me over your family, and I won’t put you in a relationship where you have to leave me all the time to be a part of this world that I don’t belong in.”

  “Why are you doing this to us?” she cries.

  The devastation twisting her face is enough to bring me to my knees. “Jesus, Alissa, I don’t want this. I wish things were different, but they aren’t and they never will be. That’s why I don’t want you giving up this opportunity.”

  “So you’re really just going to throw it all away? Just like that?”

  I can’t bring myself to answer, unable to breathe another word, the grief suffocating me makes it impossible but I don’t need to say anything.

  She sees it in my eyes.

  “Fine, be a coward. Obviously, the last few years haven’t meant the same to you as they have to me.”

  Before I can tell her how wrong she is, she runs back inside, leaving me with my world in shambles and life irrevocably changed. The organ in my chest aches so much that I want to rip it out of my goddamn body.

  Doing the right thing has never hurt so fucking bad.

  CHAPTER 1

  Christopher

  Five years later

  I’m sucked in so deep there’s no coming back—no fighting it. I can smell the desolation and death of the cell, my muscles protruding from my skin, almost ripping out of my body as I try to free myself, his screams of agony ricocheting off the walls.

  Then it changes.

  I’m down on my knees, my eyes on fire, face soaked in sweat, tears, and blood. Despair grips me with the decision I face.

  One I can’t make.

  I can’t bring myself to do it.

  “Please, man. I’m fucking begging you!”

  The guilt swallows me whole, leaving me in a black abyss, my own personal hell. I stare down at my hands that are stained red—blood that will forever haunt my very existence.

  The roar that rips from my chest shreds my vocal cords, ripping me apart from the inside out.

  I become nothing more than a shell of what I once was and it’s exactly what I deserve…

  I shoot upright, my heart hammering and head pounding. The smell of death lingers in the air, surrounding me—suffocating me. It doesn’t take long before I clue into the incessant knocking.

  Groaning, I bend down and grab my jeans from the floor, sliding them on before walking out of my room. I try to remain upright, my knees weak and head swimming as I bypass the empty bottle of Jack and littered beer cans from last night.

  Reaching the door, I swing it open and squint at the blinding sun, my stomach rebelling at the harsh light. Once the fuzziness clears, I’m met with the woman who changed my life when I was fifteen years old by taking my sister and me into her home.

  A woman who saw more in me than anyone else ever had.

  “Hey,” Faith greets me, her voice soft with concern. “Are you just now waking up?”

  “Yeah, I guess. What time is it?” I croak, my throat on fire.

  Was I screaming in my sleep?

  I’m praying she didn’t hear me all the way up at the main house. I have a hard enough time getting everyone off my back as it is. One of the downfalls of staying on the property, I suppose, but I don’t see myself anywhere else. I need the solitude of my music room and this is the only place I’ve ever felt at home. I’m also close to my sisters if they ever need me.

  “Two in the afternoon,” she answers, breaking into my clouded thoughts.

  Well shit.

  “I didn’t sleep well,” I tell her.

  Sympathy darkens her expression, something I don’t want. “Can I come in?” she asks when I don’t offer.

  The last thing I need is for her to see what a mess I am, but I could never say no to her. Stepping aside, I hang on the door, needing the stability when the room begins to spin.

  Jesus, I drank way more than I thought.

  She enters inside, her eyes taking in the empty bottle and cans. “Did you have company last night?”

  “No.” My answer is clipped as I close the door. Regret fills my chest when hurt flashes in her eyes. In an attempt to block out the feelings, I gather up the empties and carry them into the kitchen, depositing them on the counter. My fingers grip the sink, head hanging in guilt. “I’m sorry. It was a bad night,” I say, offering an explanation for my shitty attitude.

  I sense her approach before her hand settles on my bare back. “I’m worried about you, Christopher.”

  “Don’t be. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine. It looks like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

  Because I haven’t.

  “I wish you would talk to someone about what’s bothering you. I know Cade will understand. Or any of the guys for that matter. They’ve been through this.”

  No, they haven’t. They may have lived in their own hell but it wasn’t mine.

  “I don’t need to talk to anyone.”

  She sighs, her forehead falling on my bicep. My guilt escalates when I feel my arm grow wet with her tears, something I can’t deal with at the moment. I already live with more than I can handle.

  “I’ll be fine, Faith. I promise,” I assure her. “I just need time. Can you give me that?”

  She lifts her head from my shoulder, but I keep my eyes trained down at the chrome in front of me, watching my fingers turn white.

  “Look at me, Christopher.”

  Steeling myself, I turn my face to the side, letting her see all the demons I can’t hide, no matter how hard I try.

  Her hand moves to my jaw. “I love you,” she says, telling me words I had never heard until she came along. Not since my mother was ripped from me. “I’m here, always. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her eyes hold mine, searching for answers. Ones she won’t get. “I’m proud of you and the man you’ve become.”

  My throat aches once again but for a different reason now. If she only knew the truth, she’d take those words back. She’d be so ashamed.

  She has no idea what I’ve done.

  I shove the tormenting thought aside and change the subject. “Did you come here for something or just to be a pain in my ass?”

  She smiles at the joke it was meant for. “Both. I need a huge favor, and I’m hoping you will help me.”

  “Anything,” I tell her, meaning it. I’d do anything for her.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that. Because I had an instructor lined up for my kinder music class but they bailed and now I’m left with two weeks to find someone else.”

  “Forget it.”

  “You just said ‘anything,’” she reminds me.r />
  “Yeah, before I knew I would have to babysit.”

  “You don’t have to babysit. You get to do your favorite thing in the world and play music.”

  “I don’t do kids unless they’re a part of my family. You know this. You need help with your teens then maybe we can discuss it but not young kids.”

  “You are the perfect person for this. I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”

  “No. I’m not. I’m the furthest thing from it, especially right now.”

  Her expression softens with understanding but there’s no way she could.

  No one can.

  “I know you are going through a lot right now, but I think this could be good for you. It will get you out of here and give you something to do.”

  “There are a lot of things I can do.”

  “Yes, there are, but you don’t. Maybe this will motivate you.”

  I shake my head.

  “I’m desperate here, Christopher. If I don’t find someone I will have to cancel the program until fall. It will disappoint a lot of people.”

  “Why don’t you teach it?”

  “Because my violin class is at the same time. Would you rather teach that?” she asks, knowing the answer already.

  Damn it! It’s one of the only instruments I can’t fucking play. I had no desire to learn it.

  “These kids are expected to perform for the town fair in a few months. If anyone can shape them into the best in such a short amount of time, it’s you,” she says, her eyes pleading with me. “I’m just asking you to try. If you find it’s too much and you aren’t ready, then I will cancel it.”

  The word no dangles in the back of my throat, but like always, I can’t bring myself to say it. Not when it comes to her.

  “When are the lessons?” I ask, not giving her a solid answer.

  By the smile that takes over her face, she knows she has me. “It’s only three times a week. One-hour periods. I will have your lessons all planned out for you. So you don’t have to worry about that.”

  I wasn’t worried about that. I’m worried about the kid part.

  In the end, I relent with a heavy breath. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

  She launches herself at me with a squeal. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Pressing a kiss to my cheek, she steps back. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair now. Will you come up to the house for supper tonight? I’ll even make your favorite.”

  “You’re going to cook me a steak?” I ask, lifting a brow.

  She rolls her eyes but chuckles. “I meant your favorite vegetarian dish.”

  Her lasagna is pretty damn good, and I haven’t seen my sisters in a while. I’ve been avoiding them along with everyone else. “Yeah, I’ll be there. I don’t know how long I’ll stay though.”

  “That’s okay. Just as long as we get to spend some time with you.” She reaches up to touch my cheek again. “This will be a good thing, Christopher. I know it. I have faith in you.”

  I’m glad one of us does.

  When she walks out the door, I’m left once again with my tortured memories. The remembrance of my nightmare festers, the monster whispering words of shame. It taunts me, trying to pull me back under and render me helpless.

  My eyes move to the empty bottle of Jack, and I consider grabbing the full one waiting for me in the cabinet. Instead, I bolt out the back door, my bare feet tearing up the grass beneath them as I run to my music studio.

  I lock myself inside and take a seat at my drums, knowing I need something loud. Grabbing my sticks, I begin beating the shit out of them. The furious tempo vibrates throughout my entire body, echoing in my ears and bringing me solitude.

  When music is at its loudest that’s when silence descends upon me.

  My demons are finally quiet.

  CHAPTER 2

  Alissa

  The hot sun beats down on me, scalding my sensitive skin. I rearrange the scarf around my head in an attempt to block the heat as I move through the refugee camp, my heart breaking at the devastation around me.

  You don’t realize how good you have it until you experience this. Until you see that any pain and heartache you’ve endured is minuscule compared to some others around the world. Some of them residing right here at this refugee camp in Kenya.

  After finishing my nursing degree, I decided I wanted to move on to medical school but before dedicating myself to more years of grueling schoolwork, I needed a small break. I figured what better way to do that than to make myself useful and offer my acquired knowledge to people in need. People who are just trying to live the best life they were given with minimal access to the necessities we take for granted. Like food, shelter, and water. It was a decision my parents didn’t care for, especially my mother, but I stopped caring about her opinion long ago.

  “Nurse Alissa, we need you,” Carla beckons me from the back tent, an aid worker who has been here much longer than I have.

  I head back to find a mother rocking her ill son in her arms, tears flooding her cheeks as she stares up at me. She cannot speak any English but she doesn’t need to, her pleading eyes say it all.

  “He’s getting worse, and Dr. Hibachi won’t be back for another couple of hours,” Carla informs me.

  I check the young boy’s vitals. He’s lethargic and has a high-grade temperature. He’s also very dehydrated. “All right, let’s get him on one of the beds and hooked up to an IV.”

  “There are no more beds.”

  “What?” I ask.

  Carla shakes her head. “We’ve been full since yesterday morning when we took in the victims from the shooting in Nairobi.”

  Frustration burns inside of me, but I don’t waste time dwelling on it and quickly create a makeshift bed on the floor while Carla grabs what I need for the intravenous. I gesture for the woman to lay her son down and offer her a kind smile, hoping to convey that I will do my best to help.

  The young boy barely flinches as I tie off his arm and insert the needle into his vein, his dazed eyes as sad and desperate as his mother’s.

  I trail my finger down his chubby little cheek, my soul fracturing. Just as I finish, a loud sound explodes around us, vibrating the earth beneath me.

  Screams of fear erupt through the humid air as I try to get my bearings. Carla pulls back the curtain, unveiling absolute chaos—women running without direction, holding their children in their arms as dust swirls around them.

  Icy terror grips me when I see at least a half dozen gunmen in the midst, their bullets flying. My eyes land on one man in particular as he grabs people one by one, flashing a picture at them and barking questions. When one of the women points to our tent, cold, black eyes connect with mine. A malicious smirk curls the man’s lips, sending a shiver of fear down my spine.

  He barks an order to the others, his soulless eyes pinning me in place as they stride toward me.

  Me?

  I’m unable to move, completely imprisoned by fear as I try to comprehend what is happening.

  “Alissa, come on, we have to get out of here,” Carla yells, pulling my arm.

  I finally snap into myself and shove to my feet. Adrenaline rushes through me but my movements are slow, no matter how hard I push myself. I feel like time has changed and the entire world around me falls into slow motion, failing my chance at escape.

  A scream of terror rips from my throat when I’m grabbed from behind, arms banding around me with crushing force, stealing the air from my lungs. My eyes focus on Carla as she’s held back from trying to help me, her mouth moving, tears streaming down her face, pleading for them to let me go.

  Me. Only me.

  Why?

  Before I’m able to think about it further, pain explodes through my head, turning my world black.

  CHAPTER 3

  Christopher

  Music fills my ears, keeping my demons quiet as I stack bales outside of the barn. Sweat drips down my face and into my eyes, my muscles on fire. I welcome the burn, loving that it masks all
the shame and guilt that lives inside of me.

  At least for the moment.

  Through my internal chaos, I sense something at my back. Looking behind me, I find a sleek black car that I don’t recognize drive past the main house and come to a stop in front of the guesthouse…my house.

  Pulling off my gloves, I tug my earbuds out and head toward it, my senses on high alert. I don’t like surprise visitors.

  When the person steps out of the car, I come to a hard stop, shock rocking me to my core. I stare back at a man I haven’t seen in years. One from my past.

  The father of the only girl I’ve ever loved—and lost.

  I push forward as he starts toward me and meet him halfway. “Mr. Malone,” I greet him, my surprise evident.

  “Christopher.” He extends his hand to me.

  I accept the gesture, feeling his palm cold and clammy. It’s then I notice the usually well put together doctor looks worn and haggard. Dark circles mar the skin beneath his eyes, his lips are drawn tight, and his suit rumpled.

  “Do you have a minute?” he asks.

  “Sure.” I lead him up to my house, concern beginning to override my surprise as I wonder why he would come here after all these years. Derek and I always had a pretty good relationship when Alissa and I were together. It was definitely better than her mom’s and mine.

  Once we enter the house, I gesture for him to take a seat, glad that the place is in better shape than when Faith was here yesterday.

  “What can I do for you?” I ask, leaning against the wall, crossing my arms over my bare chest.

  “I know you must be surprised to see me but I didn’t know where else to go. I need your help.” The tremble in his voice has dread swimming in my gut. “Something has happened to my daughter.”

  My stomach bottoms out, fear threatening to suffocate me as my mind conjures up all sorts of fucking scenarios. None of them good. “Is she…” I can’t even bring myself to say it.

  He shakes his head. “She’s not dead.”

  Relief swamps me, allowing air back into my lungs.