Not A Hero: A Bad Boy Marine Romance

by Sarah Robinson

  “Zoe,” Miles started, but she cut him off.

  “I’m serious, Miles. If you ever so much as lay a finger on me in an aggressive manner again, I’m gone.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay?”

  “I think you should leave, Zoe.”

  “Excuse me?” She looked at him incredulously and his stomach rolled at the very thought of what he was about to do.

  “I was in a bad place last night, and just needed… anyone.” That was a lie. He was lying straight to her, and from the flicker of uncertainty on her face, he wondered if she could tell, too.

  Zoe shook her head and stood from the edge of the bed. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Zoe, I’m sorry,” he continued, his mind made up.

  This had to be done. There was no other choice. They had to be over. He had hurt her—hell, he’d fucking hit her. There was absolutely no way he’d allow her to be in harm’s way again, even if it meant being far, far away from him.

  Miles knew the only way that would happen is if he pushed her away and gave her no choice. She cared so much about everyone around her, she often sacrificed her own needs. Zoe was one of the kindest women he’d ever met—she’d forgive him.

  Hell, she already was forgiving him.

  That was the last thing he wanted. It was the last thing he deserved.

  “Miles, stop.” Her jaw tightened as she dropped her arms to her side. “I get that you feel badly about this morning, but I promise you, it’ll be okay. I’m trying to understand. We’ll work this out.”

  “You can’t understand,” he barked at her.

  She jumped at the sudden shout, and guilt hit him again. What the hell is wrong with me? Now I’m yelling at her? He couldn’t control himself—she needed to leave for her own good, and he needed to make her.

  “What don’t I understand?” she shouted back, matching his volume and standing her ground. Her anger was a mask, and he could see her wavering and her body trembling as tears threatened to pour. “Because it sounds like you’re punishing me for something you did.”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged, because, in a way, she wasn’t wrong about that. “But it doesn’t change the fact that this doesn’t work.” He pointed between them as he spoke. “I’m not the man for you, Zoe. I know you keep thinking everything is rainbows and unicorns, and we’re going to ride off into the sunset together one day, but we’re not.”

  Her eyes narrowed, her voice lower now and filled with an aching he felt, too. “You think this has been rainbows and unicorns for me? Miles, I’m trying so hard to—”

  “I know, Zoe,” he interrupted. “But there’s a lot you still don’t know about me. What happened this morning is all on me, and I’m so fucking sorry—I’m so, so sorry.” That was the only true thing he’d said to her so far, because there was no doubt in his mind he would never, never forgive himself for harming her. “But I’m not sure I can promise it won’t happen again. I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

  Her shoulders sagged slightly, the mask finally dropping as he saw pain rip through her expression. She stepped toward him, placing her hand on his forearm. “Miles, what don’t I know? Tell me, and we’ll work through it together. I’m doing my best to accept you for who you are. Work with me here, please.” Her voice was strained, agony in her tone. “Can’t you talk to me?”

  “What do you want me to tell you, Zoe? All my deep, dark secrets? You think you can fix them—fix me?” Real anger surged through him the more he said, the more he thought about it. He wasn’t her project—he didn’t want her help. He didn’t want anyone’s help. “You can’t fix what I’ve done, Zoe, and you, of all people, would never be able to forgive me for it.”

  “Me? What? Why me, specifically?” Her brows furrowed and she swallowed hard. “Listen, I don’t care if it’ll hurt me. I want to know either way. Just talk to me!”

  Miles clenched his teeth, deciding this was it. He was going to lay it all out on the line for her. If she was so insistent on forgiving him for everything, he’d tell her the one thing he knew she couldn’t forgive.

  “I killed a child, Zoe. Shot him right in the chest. He was dead in minutes.” Lowering his voice, he spoke slower now, staring directly into her eyes. “Now, you tell me, can you really love a man who did something so similar to what your ex-husband did?”

  Her gasp was audible, her hand clutching her chest as she stared back at him.

  He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t look away. He couldn’t look away. He couldn’t not watch the progression of emotions crossing her face—shock, horror, devastation. He felt every one with her, hating himself through the whole process.

  He never should have gotten involved with her in the first place—he’d been warned. She was special, he’d known it the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Selfishly, he hadn’t been able to stay away, wanting her more than he’d ever wanted anything before.

  Last night, he’d thought maybe, just maybe, they could make it work. Maybe he’d be able to be the man she deserved. Maybe he’d be better…for her. Then the incident this morning had confirmed what he’d known all along.

  There was no fixing what he’d done, or who he was.

  And he didn’t want her to try, because he’d only destroy her in the process.

  It doesn’t turn out so well for the cricket at the end of the story, Miles.

  She’d been right all along, and he’d wished he’d listened sooner.

  “How can you say something like that to me, Miles?” she whispered, wiping tears from her cheek. “Maybe if you could just explain. I don’t think—”

  Holy fuck, she was still trying to find a way to forgive him. This woman was a saint. His anger turned inward, hating everything he’d put her through. She deserved better, and he deserved to be alone.

  He had no other choice. His eyes leveled at her, catching her tear-filled gaze with his. “Zoe, leave. Now. I’m not going to ask you again.”

  She shivered, swallowing hard and staring back at him. A long moment of silence had passed between them, until she finally hung her head and he watched as sheer exhaustion took over.

  Guilt shredded him, and he let it. He wanted to feel its pain—he deserved it. He was not a hero. He was a villain, and this was exactly what villains deserved.

  “I’ll get my stuff,” Zoe said quietly. “I’ll be gone within the hour.”

  He nodded slowly, everything inside him breaking into a million irreparable pieces. “Okay.”

  She moved for the door, grabbing her shirt off the floor and her phone from the nightstand.

  He stared at the ground, still leaning against his dresser, not moving, barely even breathing. A single step, a single inhale, and everything would crash down around him. He’d beg her forgiveness and plead with her to stay—selfish.

  “For what it’s worth, Miles,” Zoe started, pausing in the doorway and turning back to him for a moment. “You’re going to regret today.”

  He lifted his gaze from the floor to see her sad, emerald eyes wet with tears. Nodding slowly, he swallowed. “I already do.”

  An hour later, she was gone.

  27

  “Jeez, what’s got you all upset?”

  Zoe looked up from the trunk of her car, where she was shoving in the last of her suitcases, to see Tobin leaning against the side of her car. “Who says I’m upset?”

  He lifted one brow, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m pretty certain anything breakable in that suitcase is now shattered the way you were banging it around. Also, it could be all the tears.” He gestured to her face.

  Zoe wiped her face quickly, sniffling slightly, then looked back at the trunk, the suitcase still sticking out too far for her to close the door. “Well, it won’t fit. And you caught me, I’m a little upset.”

  “Here, let me help—with the suitcase, at least.”

  She stepped aside and let him pull her suitcase back out and put it down on the dirt driveway in front of Miles’s house. He reached back i
n and rearranged a few of the other boxes inside until there was enough room, then easily slid the suitcase in and closed the trunk.

  “Wow. Thanks,” she said, genuinely grateful she could leave this house as soon as possible. Her tears drying, she wiped at her face a final time. “Were you stopping by to see Miles?”

  He nodded. “Were you running away from Miles?”

  She began walking toward the driver’s side of the car, opening her door. “It’s complicated.”

  “Can I tell you a story?” he asked, coming around to lean against her open door as she sat down in the driver’s seat. “I only ask because, well, Miles has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. My whole life, really. And he’s different around you—a good different. A different I want to see again.” Tobin looked up at the early morning sky, then back down to her. “He’s happy when he’s with you. A real happy—not just going through the motions.”

  Zoe’s heart lurched in her chest for the millionth time today as she pushed back against the driver’s seat, her feet on the edge of the door frame as she swiveled out to face him. “I’m listening.”

  Tobin grinned, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled in a way that made him endearing, trusting, and she understood immediately why he was Miles’s best friend. “When I was a junior in high school, my little sister was a freshman. She was in your class, remember?”

  “Rosie,” she replied, swallowing hard as she thought of the young girl she’d wished she’d paid more attention to. No one in this town could ever forget her.

  “Yeah, Rosie.” Tobin’s eyes went soft, nostalgic as he rested his chin against his forearms on the top of the open driver’s side door. “She was so beautiful. Unbelievable, really. She covered it with lots of black makeup and hoodies, but if you saw her when she was first waking up and crunching on her cereal, scowling at anyone who talked to her before her cup of coffee…she was mesmerizing.”

  Zoe looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting as her heart thumped against her rib cage.

  “She followed me and Miles around everywhere, didn’t generally have her own friends. She was a little sister to him as much as me.”

  “Really?” Zoe asked, a bit surprised since the only time Miles had spoken to her about Rosie, it had been distant. It had been as Tobin’s friend, not Rosie’s friend.

  “Yeah, and he was with me when we found her.”

  Zoe’s eyes widened as she looked at Tobin. “What?”

  Tobin nodded slowly. “In the tub—god, there was so much blood.” He grimaced and she almost reached forward to touch him, offer a comforting moment of some kind, but he kept going. “I was frozen. I couldn’t move. I just stared at her.”

  “You were in shock,” Zoe defended him—to himself. She couldn’t help it. He had only been sixteen years old; no one would have blamed him for freezing or running away or any reaction he possibly could have had.

  “Miles didn’t freeze,” Tobin countered. “He ran right to her and pulled her out. Checked her pulse—she was still alive. He bandaged her wrists and told her to hold on, just hold on, Rosie—” Tobin’s voice cracked and he stepped back from the door, clearing his throat. He inhaled deeply and then started again. “Miles never hesitated.”

  Zoe climbed out of the car and wrapped her arms around Tobin, saying nothing.

  He gave her a quick squeeze then stepped back. “We got her to the hospital and they did all they could, but they couldn’t save her.” Tobin frowned and shook his head, a slight catch in his throat. “Miles never forgave himself. He thought if he’d driven faster, or found her sooner, or…I don’t know.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Zoe said, shocked he could possibly have blamed himself for such a horrible tragedy. Tobin nodded slowly, and she squeezed his forearm gently. “Did you blame yourself too?”

  “For a little while, yeah,” Tobin admitted. “But it wasn’t my fault. There’s nothing I could have done.”

  “Of course,” she agreed. “It’s no one’s fault—not even Rosie’s.”

  “Not even Rosie’s,” Tobin echoed. “She wasn’t in her right mind.” He smiled a little, and Zoe warmed at having been able to give him even the tiniest light in such a dark story. “Miles never came around.”

  Zoe frowned. “Never?”

  Tobin shook his head. “Can I tell you another story?”

  “Uh,” Zoe said, hesitating slightly since she felt pretty unresolved from the first story still. “Sure.”

  “I joined the Marines to be with Miles. He was the only person I had in the entire world after Rosie.” Tobin placed his forearms back on the top of the car door, leaning against it as Zoe leaned back against her own car. “I’m not sure I was ever cut out to be that great of a Marine, but I did okay. Miles, however, excelled in everything. It’s who he was always meant to be.”

  “I can see that.” She smiled at the thought, because everything about Miles was the exactly alpha male, Marine stereotype. “He doesn’t talk much about it, though.”

  Tobin nodded, as if that made all the sense in the world. “He saved my life over there.”

  “In Afghanistan?”

  “Yep, I was dumb—accidentally got separated from my unit, from Miles,” Tobin explained, his features darkening as he recalled the memory. “Three insurgents got the jump on me, took my gun. Such a fucking rookie mistake. I should have died for that—I’d have deserved it.”

  “What?” Zoe almost choked out her words. “You would not have deserved it. Not at all.”

  Tobin gave her a half-hearted smile. “Well, luckily, I didn’t have to. Miles saved me. He shot each of them from behind a nearby corner, one shot directly to all three of their chests. Perfect shots—he always was the best sharpshooter in our unit.”

  Zoe’s eyes widened as she pictured it, both a little afraid and impressed at Miles’s keen, yet deadly, instinct. “Wow.”

  “Wow is right.” Tobin nodded his head, a solemn look on his face. “But, there was a…complication.”

  Zoe frowned, awaiting an explanation.

  “It wasn’t a group of three insurgents,” Tobin started. “There were four. Miles couldn’t see the fourth from where he was standing, because the fourth was just a child.”

  I killed a child, Zoe. Shot him right in the chest.

  Miles’s words played in her head and she swallowed as she guessed this story was what he had been referring to. She knew in her gut it was, and whatever little bit of anger was still left inside of her melted away.

  “A child soldier…the bastards start them young over there.” Tobin looked angry now, shaking his head. “One of the bullets pierced right through the first guy, and into the child behind him. Fuck, he was so young, Zoe. So damn young.”

  She exhaled slowly, trying to stop herself from bursting into tears as she imagined the horror of the situation. There was nothing clear and simple about war. It was devastating and horrifying and dirty and painful and completely colored in gray.

  “We tried to save the kid,” Tobin told her. “Rushed him to a makeshift trauma center as fast as our fucking legs could carry us, but he was dead on arrival.”

  Zoe lifted her eyes, finding Tobin’s pained gaze. “He killed a child,” she echoed Miles’s words from earlier.

  Tobin stared back at her as intently, his words as slow as hers had been. “He saved my life.”

  Zoe sat back down on the driver’s seat, her legs twisted out of the car and on the dirt driveway. She dropped her head down for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to center herself, find herself, heal herself. Tears returned and she tried to push them away, but her heart was completely overwhelmed after the events of the day.

  “Why are you telling me these stories, Tobin?” she finally asked, sniffing.

  She lifted her head to find he’d stepped back from the car slightly, his arms crossed over his chest now.

  “I thought you should know, and I thought he wouldn’t tell you. Or he wouldn’t tell you the full s
tory, at least.”

  The ache in her heart pounded harder, and she tried to calm her racing pulse. Tobin was right—the story he’d told her painted a much different picture than Miles’s vague explanation.

  “He loves you, Zoe,” Tobin said. “I fall in love every goddamn week like a fucking idiot, but not Miles. He holds his heart hostage, punishing himself for Rosie, and for the war. But you?” Tobin exhaled loudly. “He gave his heart to you.”

  “And then he took it back,” she said softly.

  Because he had. He’d given her all of himself, and she’d been happier than she ever thought possible, then he’d taken it all away. Punishing himself had punished her, too.

  “Yeah.” Tobin nodded, like he wasn’t surprised in the least. He reached forward and patted her shoulder comfortingly. “Don’t let him, though. Okay?”

  Zoe swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart feeling like it might pound right out of her chest as she thought of the man she loved inside the house, struggling and hurting.

  Finally, she nodded at him. “Okay.”

  28

  Miles had been nursing the same beer for over an hour—partially because he didn’t feel like getting drunk the night before his father’s funeral, and partially because it was the tavern’s only condition for letting him back in. The whole town was feeling sorry for him, and themselves, at Walter’s passing. His father had been a deep-rooted member of this community his whole life, and Miles knew everyone felt the loss.

  “Hey, you gonna eat those?” The man on the stool next to him pointed to the small wooden bowl filled with pretzels sitting in front of Miles.

  He shook his head. “Nah. Go for it, man.”

  “Thannksh.” The man slurred his words, pulling the bowl in front of him and shoving several pretzels in his mouth at once. Several empty shot glasses sat on the bar in front of him, but he was nursing a beer now. “Hey, you wanna hear a story?”

  Miles glanced at the older man warily. He knew most of the people in this town, but didn’t recognize this man at all. Never a good sign.