by L. S. Murphy
“I thought,” I added, fighting back a tear that edged into my eye, “that you wanted…”
He didn’t let me finish as he leaned in, brushing his lips across mine. They quivered as he hesitated before lightly kissing me again.
The driver cleared his throat and I opened my eyes. Riker’s face was blank, but his eyes said it all. He was scared. So was I. In those two brief, little kisses, I saw hope of something more, of possibilities. I climbed out of the car and stood with my back to Riker as he followed. He stopped beside me, offering his arm. I slid my shaking hand in, resting it on crook of his elbow again. It really did fit perfectly there.
My conversation with Maddie crossed my mind. Saying I wanted to go for it and actually doing it were two different things. I thought I’d be with Victor for the rest of my life, and look where that got me. But Maddie was right, I wasn’t marrying Riker tomorrow. It was just a chance at something more. Knowing he might want the same thing made it hard to breathe.
“Riker?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice even.
“I know,” he replied.
I took a deep breath as he led us toward the private entrance, squeezing his arm close to me. The hallway could fit an eighteen wheeler inside it. The stark concrete walls and distinct smell of feet made me queasier than the morning after a tequila binge. We stepped into the narrow tunnel leading toward the court, and stopped behind the color guard. The rest of Riker’s unit was nowhere to be seen.
I opened my mouth to ask him, but he answered me first. “I sort of lied to you earlier.” He turned to face me. “I’m sorry.”
A hand fell on my shoulder, and I glanced behind me at an usher. “Miss, will you come with me, please?”
It wasn’t a question so much as a demand. As Riker moved away, my hand fell from his arm. He stood beside the color guard and the usher led me toward Josh and Stephanie. The confusion must have been clear on my face.
“What did he tell you?” Josh asked as I stopped beside him.
“That the team was honoring your unit.” I looked to him for clarification. “What’s really going on?”
A sad smile crept across Josh’s face. “Not our unit. Just Riker. Has he told you how it happened?”
I knew “it” meant how Riker lost his leg. I shook my head.
Before Josh could say another word, the usher led us, along with five other Marines and their families, to the edge of the court. The arena buzzed as we were positioned beneath the backboard. The St. Louis Arches and the Chicago Bulls stood near their respective benches. People were curious about our group. I felt like I was in the spotlight even though I was just a guest. It made me nervous for Riker. He hated drawing attention to himself.
The lights dimmed and an actual spotlight focused on the tunnel where Riker marched out alongside the color guard. They stopped at center court and the crowd quieted.
“Ladies and gentleman, we honor our men and women who valiantly serve our country. Tonight’s colors are presented by the 3rd Battalion 24th Marine Regiment that served three tours in Afghanistan.”
The fans applauded and a few whooped.
“Eighteen months ago, as these men and women were set to return home, H & S Company came under fire as they were ambushed in Kandahar. Their vehicles were disabled and most of the men were gravely wounded. Staff Sergeant Charles Riker, Jr., whose leg was severely injured when his truck was attacked, pulled himself to the nearest radio to call for help. He secured their position and kept the enemy at bay until another unit arrived. It is bravery such as this that allowed Sergeant Riker’s entire unit to make it home alive.”
The announcer paused, allowing a moment for the crowd to cheer wildly. It lasted a full minute.
“Thank you, Staff Sergeant Riker and H & S Company, along with all the members of our armed forces.”
They announced the singer of the National Anthem next, but I didn’t hear. My eyes were on Riker as he stood in the middle of the court, hearing the crowd cheer for him and what he’d done. Josh draped his arm over my shoulder. I looked up at him and he smiled as if to say, “Now you know.”
Stephanie handed me a tissue. I hadn’t even noticed the tears that fell down my cheeks.
Josh continued, “I’d taken a bullet in the chest. Riker saved me.”
The spotlight followed the color guard back to the tunnel as the lights of the arena slowly warmed on. I kept my eyes on Riker until I couldn’t see him anymore. Josh linked his arm through mine and I was grateful for the stability as he led me off the court. Riker stood completely still as we joined him. His eyes caught mine, holding my gaze as Josh took me to him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked as soon as Josh was out of earshot.
Riker stared at me, not answering. His face was unreadable.
“Damn it, Riker. For once in your life, just talk to me.”
“‘Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.’ Winston Churchill said that.” He waited for a reaction. “I wanted to tell you a lot of things, but I needed to…. There’s more to me than the guy who got his leg shot off. I’ve done a lot of good and bad things as a Marine. Hell, as a human. I didn’t want you to judge me by one moment.”
“I’ve never done that. Not even when I thought you were a complete jackass.” I smiled. His hand cupped my cheek with his thumb brushing away the track of a tear. “Why don’t you trust me?”
He didn’t get a chance to answer as we were ushered to our seats. The team gave Riker’s unit a private box with free food and drink. Riker took the comments and slaps on the back in stride. It was halfway through the first period when we finally sat in our seats. Riker tensed and I waited for him to say anything.
“My leg might’ve been saved,” he said, taking my hand. His thumb traced circles over my palm. “But there were too many guys that could’ve died. The medics went to them first. By the time they got to me, it was too late.” He stared at me for a moment. “If I had to do it over again, I would. I have no regrets, Rena.”
Someone slapped Riker’s shoulder before I could tell him that it didn’t matter what happened eighteen months ago or even six weeks ago. The man behind us pulled Riker into a conversation about his work at the hospital and his physical therapy. There wasn’t another chance to discuss anything until the buzzer sounded halftime.
I caught bits of hushed conversations, but nothing made sense in the whirlwind setting.
“Can’t leave…”
“Too early to retire…”
“What will you do next?”
With so many different people talking, I was never sure who was asking what to whom. It was overwhelming and I needed a break to gather my thoughts.
Anyone who hadn’t talked to Riker made sure to do so during halftime. Josh and his sister made the rounds, and a few people smiled and introduced themselves to me. I was making my way to the ladies room when I was ambushed on the concourse by the last person I wanted to see.
“Rena, how are you?” Cecilia Hood strolled up to me with the air of a queen. Behind her were three of the other players’ wives. I’d made sure to know who was who when CeCe hired me at the beginning of the summer. “Girls, this is my designer, Rena Woods.”
Your designer? I bit back the words and smiled at the other women.
“Oh, I just love the lighting in CeCe’s foyer,” gushed Alaina McKenzie. Her husband was second to Alonzo in MVP voting last season. The duo was expected to take the Arches to the championship this year. “Was that your handiwork?”
A sincere smile spread across my face. “Yes, it was. Thank you.”
In that moment, I had leads. I networked. I handed out cards. CeCe pulled me aside and I continued to smile at her even though I really wanted to ask her why she fired me.
“Now, Rena, remember what we discussed for my guestroom? I need to get those plans from you so that Alexandria can finish it.” CeCe glanced around the room, not making eye contact with me.
&
nbsp; “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Mrs. Hood,” I replied in my most professional voice. “Once you terminated my services, you lost all rights to the designs I created for you.”
“But…”
I left her with her mouth hanging open. I had run myself ragged for that woman, doing anything she wanted and putting too many miles on the Tomato, but she fired me on a whim anyway. Cecilia Hood wasn’t going to step on me anymore. Even if I lost all the potential business from the other basketball wives, it was worth it to see Cecilia not get what she wanted. My firm would be fine. It would take longer for it to grow without Cecilia’s business, but it would get there. My dignity was intact as I strode into the women’s restroom to refresh my makeup.
I took my seat for the second half of the game, but Riker didn’t sit down. Stephanie and Josh sat beside me, and Josh was his usual jovial self, but he kept glancing over his shoulder to where Riker stoically stood. I glimpsed around the box and met his eye. It was the cold distant Riker staring back at me. I tried to get his attention, to get close enough to ask him what was going on, but Riker kept his distance. Everything we’d said to one another, every move he and I had made all night, swirled in my mind. Nothing indicated any reason for his sudden cold demeanor. When the game finally ended, my thoughts were like an Amazon jungle that only a pro could navigate. And I was no pro.
On the ride back to the apartment, Riker sat as far from me as possible. Stephanie chatted at him while Josh glanced between us. My confusion must have matched the concern on Josh’s face. He raised his eyebrows with an unasked question, and I shrugged in response. Neither one of us knew what the hell was going on with Riker.
But I was going to find out. My fists clenched the fabric of my dress. Damn him for ruining his own night. He wasn’t hiding from me again. Not after all we’d…what? All we’d what? I didn’t really know.
Josh had the driver drop us off at our building, and he rode with his sister back to her dorm.
At the top of the steps, Riker opened his apartment door and closed it without even looking at me. Anger burrowed through my body, obliterating the confusion that ached in my veins. I pounded on his door loud enough that Mrs. Eddlestein downstairs opened hers to see what was going on.
He pulled the door open, still in uniform. “What?”
The tone in his voice, the nonchalant attitude, the sneer that uglied his face. I didn’t need this shit. I slammed my palms into his chest, pushing him back into his apartment.
“So that’s how this is going to go now?” I demanded as he grabbed my hands before I could push him again. “One minute we’re fine, the next you shut me out like I’ve developed some kind of disease?”
“You used me,” he said with all the calm before a tornado. “You only went to that game to get your client back.” He shoved my hands away from him. “I should’ve known. When you bolted at halftime to—”
“Bolted? I went to the restroom!” I wasn’t going to let him do this again. “You jumped to conclusions, asshole.”
“Oh really? I saw you talking to her on the concourse. And you’re getting her a bidet now, right? She saw you with the poor one-legged soldier and decided that—”
“It had nothing to do with you,” I yelled, throwing my hands in the air instead of at him. “She approached me. She wanted my designs. That’s all.” I walked toward the door, ready to leave. “And I told her to shove it.” I couldn’t walk away, though. I stood there with my hand on the doorknob, the kiss in the limo flashing through my mind. I wanted this. I wanted him. The Riker who hated me this moment was not the same man I ran with every morning or did laundry with on Mondays. I ran my fingers over the doorknob. “Why do you do this, Riker?”
“Do what?” he asked softly from across the room.
I turned around to look him in the eye. “Why do you push people away?”
He sat on the arm of the couch and looked out the windows. There was no need for an answer. I let go of the doorknob and walked over, standing in front of him so he’d have to look at me. My fingers ached to touch the smooth skin on his cheek and I gave into the need. I traced the line of his jaw. He inhaled slowly, closing his eyes and relaxing beneath my caress. I tilted his head up when I stopped under his chin. His family had given up on him and I wasn’t going to be the next person to do the same.
“Keep pushing me away, I’ll keep coming back.” I kissed his forehead. “Keep fighting me, and you know I’ll fight back.” I kissed the tip of his nose and pressed my forehead to his. “You know this thing between us is more than just a passing flirtation.”
His hands slid up the back of my thighs, over my dress to my waist. “Why?”
I bent my head, pressing my lips to his. He pulled me closer, letting me in. When we finally broke for air, I answered him, “You know why.”
“Rena, I’m not going to change overnight,” he said, kissing my neck. “I’m going to continue to be the same stubborn bastard, the same defensive jackass, the same—”
I didn’t let him finish as I slammed my mouth into his, needing to taste him. He squeezed my waist, tightening his grip on me in more ways than one. I tugged the tie of my dress and slipped it from my shoulders as I pulled away.
“Is this enough to get you to finally shut up?” I let the fabric pool at my feet.
He pushed off the couch, standing before me. I took his hand and led him up the stairs. This time I would definitely remember waking up in his bed.
The next morning, the sun streamed into the room and I smiled. Riker shifted beside me. I rolled over, draping my arm across his chiseled chest.
“Hey,” he said with morning gruff clouding his voice.
“Hey.” I sighed. I’d always dreamed of feeling like this when I woke up. Content, happy, relaxed, and thrilled at where I was.
Riker kissed my forehead, pulling me tighter against him. “Are you sure you can handle having me around? ‘Cause I plan on being around for a long while.”
The eagle, anchor, and globe tattoo on his arm brought me back to a reality I’d wanted so desperately to avoid. The chance that he might get shipped off somewhere else, that I might lose him to the Corps.
He pulled away, rolling to his side so we were face to face. A look of horror crossed his face as he reached up to cup my face. “What? Tell me.”
I buried my face back into his chest, not wanting to think about tomorrow.
“Rena, you’re killing me here.” His gently pushed me back so I had to face him.
It took me a moment to find my voice, and then it only came out in a whimper. “What if…what if you get sent somewhere else? I don’t want to end up alone all the time.”
What I thought was a low rumble of anger turned into a chuckle as he pulled me closer to him.
“I’ve got a year left, Rena, then I’m out.” He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, pulling me onto his chest. His brows furrowed as he tried to come up with the right words, a look I’d learned to distinguish from his eyebrow-furrowed anger. “There was a time when I thought I’d be career. When I lost my leg, I thought that was over.” He paused, closing his eyes for a moment before looking down at me. “It’s not. I can stay in the Corps, but… There’s something else I need to do now.”
I sat up on my elbow with my hand still on his chest. “What?”
“Rehab. So many people have helped me since I lost my leg. Without them, I might not be here. I might have… I want to show people that there’s life afterward, you know? That giving up really isn’t an option.” A slow smile spread across his face as he pulled me on top of him. “I’m so glad I didn’t give up.”
The tension left my body as he brought my head to his. The selfish side of me danced with joy. It was what I’d hoped for, but nobody ever really gets everything. Doubt nagged at my heart until Maddie’s words echoed in my head, Honey, you haven’t even tried since Victor.
This time, I was going to try, but a question nagged at me, one that I’d wanted an answer to for som
e time. “So, tell me, why didn’t you move the truck?”
He let out a full belly laugh. Once he calmed down, he answered me with a huge grin on his face. “I could’ve, but you were so damn hot. I climbed out of the truck and you kept yelling at me even after you saw my leg. Most people start the pity party when they see it. You didn’t, and I wanted to keep you there, yelling at me, as long as possible.”
I smacked his chest. “I was late for an appointment…”
“I know. And I still would’ve done the same thing.” He kissed me and I had no doubt that he would have. “No regrets.”
“No regrets,” I agreed. “But you’re going to have to meet my mother now.”
Acknowledgements
So many people helped in making Rena and Riker’s story a reality. Thanks to the authors at Five Scribes for hosting the pitch contest that started this process. The opportunity was one I couldn’t pass on.
Thanks to Kerri-Leigh Grady for plucking this story out of the pitch and giving me such wonderful advice to make it better. Also, Kerri, thanks for pairing me with the perfect editor, Kaleen Harding, who knew what I wanted to do and what I needed to do to make this better. Seriously, how lucky am I to have such a wonderful editor.
Julia Weber, my superstar agent, deserves so many kudos. She works tirelessly for her authors, and I swear she doesn’t sleep. Julia, you’re the best.
I can’t leave out the two most important people in my life, Bean and Dave. Without them, I wouldn’t be who I am. I really am lucky.
A special thanks to the men and women who serve our country past and present. Our lives are free because of them. Saying “thank you” isn’t enough for all that they do.
About the Author
L.S. Murphy lives in the Greater St. Louis area where she watches Cardinals baseball, reads every book she can find, and weaves tales for teens and adults. When not doing all of the above, she tends to The Bean (aka her daughter), her husband, and a menagerie of pets. She is the author of A Reason to Stay, a contemporary romance novella, and Reaper, a young adult paranormal romance novel.
