Hero by Night

by Sara Jane Stone

  “Is that your new dog?” her mother asked.

  Lena wrapped her arms around the retriever, clinging to him. “Yes.”

  Her father opened his mouth as if ready to offer his two cents on the subject when the waiter appeared.

  “We’re ready to order the main course,” Chad said quickly. “Joe, are you still hungry?”

  “You bet,” Lena’s brother said.

  They went around the table placing orders. With her family’s attention diverted to the mundane, Chad felt Lena relax. Hero abandoned his post at her shoulder. The big dog settled on her lap, determined to play the part of an animal a quarter his size to keep Lena calm. From what he’d witnessed of Lena’s family so far, Hero’s training would be put to the test tonight. No wonder she’d spent the past ­couple of days tied in knots over seeing her father. Warm and welcoming wasn’t in the man’s vocabulary.

  Chad watched Lena as she spoke to the waiter. Maybe she had come to Independence Falls looking for greener grass. After seeing where she’d come from, hell, he couldn’t hold that against her.

  LENA HAD FACED armed insurgents determined to harm or capture her and her fellow soldiers. In Afghanistan, she’d fought to save the lives of the men and women fighting at her side, and defend her own. But sitting here, trembling with a dog in her lap, it was as if her bravery, her fearless ability to fight, her resilience, all existed in another world.

  She glanced over at her father, his gaze fixed on the menu. He was so close. She could reach out and touch him. But first she’d have to break through the wall between them.

  It felt as if her father had arrived at the Red Dragon with her brother, her mother, and his expectations. When he’d challenged her about her security job, she’d been tempted to ask if they should pull up a chair so his disappointment could have a place at the table.

  But she knew better than to play the can’t-­you-­see-­I’m-­suffering card with her father. Serving his country had left her dad confined to a wheelchair, and it had robbed his only son of a leg, yet she knew he’d do it all over again. For as long as she could remember, his willingness to sacrifice for their country had been a thing of awe and wonder. And she’d followed in his footsteps, ready and willing to serve.

  Some days it was hard to admit that she had nothing left to give. To acknowledge to the brave men at this table that something as abstract as PTSD held her back when they had given physical parts of themselves to the fight. And it was just as difficult for her father to accept that fact.

  “Did Joe tell you he competed in the Warrior Games?” her mom asked, the familiar sound of her Texas drawl reminiscent of the best parts of Lena’s childhood.

  Lena’s eyes widened as she glanced at Joe. “No. You never mentioned a word.”

  Her big brother smiled. “I figured you had your hands full.”

  With her life falling apart?

  “You should have called,” she said. “Which sport?”

  “He came in fourth in the shooting event.” Her mom patted Joe’s shoulder. “And he was second during the trials at West Point.”

  She remembered her mother mentioning a trip to West Point during one of their weekly calls back when she was living in Portland. But she’d been trying to adjust to having Hero in her life, and struggling to fix her crumbling marriage.

  “It was fun,” Joe said. “Good to be part of a team again. Next year, I’m going to enter the track and field events. I just got a new prosthetic designed for running. My times are even better than with my real leg.”

  “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” Mr. Rodriguez announced to the table.

  “I don’t know about that, Daddy,” she said softly, her smile vanishing. “I haven’t felt strong in a long time.”

  Saying those words out loud, to her father, Lena felt as if the determination that she wore like body armor had been stripped away.

  “I know, Lena, but you will be,” her daddy said, his voice resolute as if she could erase her fears though sheer willpower. If only it worked that way. If she could wake up one day and push the fear, the hypervigilance, and the depression away, burying it in a game of mind over matter, she would.

  “Tomorrow you’re going to receive the army’s third highest honor,” her father continued. “And then maybe you’ll consider going back. The army has resources for soldiers suffering from a little anxiety.”

  “Daddy, I didn’t leave my house for three months. I pushed my husband away, my friends, everyone. I need a dog at my side to get through the day,” she said, her voice rising with every word. “Tomorrow, I might run the other way when I see the stage and the crowd of ­people. I don’t have a little anxiety. I’m buried in it. It’s been suffocating me for months.

  “Now that I’m finally on my way to a semi-­normal life, a fresh start, no, I don’t want to go back.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I can’t do it, Daddy. I’m sorry. I’m still alive, but I’m not strong. Not anymore.”

  The table fell silent, the three members of her family staring back at her. Her fingers brushed Chad’s thigh as he raised his hand, signaling the waiter.

  “Can we take ours to go?” Chad asked when the server appeared at his side.

  “You’re leaving?” her mom said, her tear-­filled eyes wide with surprise.

  “I just remembered a call I need to make,” Chad said. “Business stuff.”

  “What line of work are you in?” her father demanded, his eyes narrowing on Chad before glancing at her. She debated running to the truck now that she’d delivered the speech that had been building inside her for the past year.

  “Helicopter logging,” Chad said with a smile, as if this was a logical reason for an abrupt departure. Under the table, he took her hand and squeezed.

  “I’m just starting out really,” Chad continued. “Before that my siblings and I ran the trucking company founded by my grandfather. We hauled timber mostly.”

  Chad kept talking, filling the void as they waited for their to-­go bag. But Lena tuned him out, her father’s words echoing in her head.

  What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

  But what if tomorrow, on that stage, she turned into a puddle of weakness? What if it pushed her close to the point that she wished she’d given her life when she was at her strongest? What if even for the brief time it took to receive the award, she thought about giving up on herself?

  Lena stared at the seventy-­pound dog anchoring her to the chair when she wanted to run as fast as she could away from this restaurant, her family, and these feelings. If she gave up, there would be no one left holding on to the belief that one day she could reach out and touch normal again.

  “Lena, are you ready?” Chad asked.

  No one except him.

  Chad pushed back from the table, a take-­out bag in one hand. “I really do need to make that call.”

  “Yes.” She nudged Hero and he hopped off her lap. Taking Chad’s free hand, she stood, allowing him to lead her toward the door. But with each step the isolation mounted.

  She couldn’t count on the pretend boyfriend holding her hand. Their relationship was for show. She needed to rebuild her life on something solid. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched her family clustered together—­three ­people at a table set for five. Maybe once upon a time, they had been her foundation. But now they wanted strength from her, not weakness. And she couldn’t deliver.

  Lena stepped out into the cool fall night. Darkness had descended on the sleepy little Oregon town near the army base. Chad beat her to the truck, opening the passenger side door for her.

  “So what do you think,” he said. “Did I make a good first impression?”

  His teasing words were like a crutch, there to prop her up when her world started to crumble.

  “You were memorable,” she admitted, climbing up beside Hero. Chad walked around t
he front, settled into the driver’s seat, and turned on the truck.

  “I think your brother liked me,” he said, steering onto the road.

  “Joe is a friendly guy.” She stared out the window as they turned onto the dark, country road. They’d driven past the motel on their way to the Red Dragon. Home for the night was a matter of retracing their steps for ten minutes. “He was like that before he deployed.”

  “Did he have a hard time after he lost his leg?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “He was in the hospital for a while, first in Germany and then at Walter Reed. My mother flew over when they weren’t sure if he would make it.”

  “Did she fly out to see you when you came back?”

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t injured. And I went to Texas a ­couple of weeks after my last tour ended. It’s hard for them to travel. I had my first nightmare down there. My mom came into my room that night and held me.”

  Staring out into the night, she could still remember the feeling of her mother’s arms around her, rocking her. She tried to push her away, but her mother had held on tight, softly signing the songs from her childhood.

  “But you didn’t stay,” he said.

  “I had a husband in Portland. I’d left the army expecting to start my civilian life, and then I just couldn’t.”

  He nodded. “Do you want to wait here while I get our key?”

  “Sure.” She held tight to Hero as he slipped into the reception area. A few minutes later, Chad returned, smiling.

  “Let me guess, you charmed your way into an upgrade,” she said.

  “Lena, this is the Roadside Motel. They don’t do high-­end,” he said holding open her door. “But I confirmed that breakfast comes with the room.”

  He led the way down the open-­air corridor to the last door. Inside, she surveyed the accommodations. When trying to find a place that took dogs, even ser­vice dogs, the options were limited, especially in her price range. Their assigned room was clean, with a king-­size bed on the left, and a dresser to the right with a television perched on top. Beyond the dresser was an open door leading to the bathroom. She poked her head in. Small, but ser­viceable. She turned as Chad set their overnight bags down on the bed.

  “How’s the tub?” he asked. “Big enough for two?”

  “It is, but . . .” She glanced at the hotel room, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m not sure we need to stay. I don’t think I can get up on that stage. I ran out of dinner with my family, Chad. Hero sat on my lap through the meal and the place was practically empty. Tomorrow there will be ­people everywhere. Any little sound or movement could trigger a massive panic attack. And the thought of lying on the ground with my dog across my chest, trying to calm me down, while my family and a bunch of strangers watch . . .”

  Chad faced her, hands at his side. “The medal is yours either way. You earned it. Don’t think for a minute you’ve failed because you don’t want to stand up there. And running out on your family tonight? You stopped me from doing something stupid, like telling a man in wheelchair to shut the hell up.”

  “He’s not a bad person,” she said. “My dad just had a plan for how our lives would be. But my dreams for the future are different now.”

  “Lena, can I ask you something?” He twirled the hotel room key around his finger. “Do you regret going to West Point, joining the army? Following your dad’s dream?”

  “Not for a minute,” she said, her voice strong and clear. “I’m proud of the time I spent serving my country. Just not of what happened when I returned home. Maybe if this ceremony was a year from now. But tomorrow? I’m not ready. I need more time to put myself back together.”

  “OK. I’ve got to make a call.” He smiled, but it didn’t touch his brown eyes. She saw a laserlike focus in his gaze that looked foreign. But she knew, probably better than most ­people, that Chad was more than the party-­hard, fun-­loving guy.

  “Stay here, take a shower, relax,” he said. “And when I come back, I want you to take everything you need to make you feel strong. You know I’m game for anything. Handcuff me to the bedpost if you want.”

  “Handcuffs?” She raised an eyebrow, glancing at his bag.

  “Whatever you want, beautiful.”

  CHAD HEADED FOR the main office, and the friendly redhead receptionist at the front desk.

  “Hi Annie.” He offered his best smile.

  “Mr. Summers.” The college-­age woman looked up from the LSAT prep book open on the reception desk and beamed at him. “Is your room OK?”

  “Just fine. But I was wondering if you could help me locate a phone number. We’re in town for an event at the army base, but I forgot the paperwork at home. I’m not sure where to go in the morning and was hoping to call over there for some answers.”

  Annie frowned. “I don’t have a number for the base, but my friend works over there. Are you in the army?”

  “My girlfriend served,” he said. “Can I give your friend a call?”

  A minute later, he stepped outside, his cell pressed against his ear, and began the long process of trying to get ahold of the person connected to the medal ceremony. Six transfers later, he reached the woman in charge.

  “Hi, this is Chad Summers. I’m with Officer Clark.” Shit, he couldn’t even remember her rank. “We’re in town for the Silver Star.”

  “Glad you made it,” the sergeant on the other end of the line said, her tone formal and rushed.

  “Here’s the thing, Lena can’t get up on that stage. I know you have press coming, but she suffers from PTSD, something I’m guessing you’re familiar with. She’s afraid she will panic when it is time to accept the medal.”

  “The vice president of the United States is flying in to present this medal—­”

  “Well, he’s going to have to do it in a quiet room with only family a few others present. I don’t care what it takes to rearrange the dog-­and-­pony show you have planned. Lena deserves to be honored in a way that makes her feel proud of her ser­vice.”

  “Are you family?” the woman demanded.

  “No, I’m the guy who will move heaven and earth to make damn sure she is not afraid.”

  Chapter 17

  LENA PACED BACK and forth across the motel’s worn brown carpet. From his perch on the bed, Hero followed her movements. The golden retriever had walked at her side for the first five or so minutes after Chad left before deciding to save his energy. She should probably do the same, for tomorrow, or maybe later tonight . . .

  I want you to take everything you need to make you feel strong. You know I’m game for anything. Handcuff me to the bedpost if you want.

  She stopped and stared at the solid wood headboard, not a post in sight. But that wasn’t the only thing holding her back. She couldn’t continue to take and take from this man. Tonight had made it crystal clear that she needed to focus on her future. She couldn’t afford failure. She just couldn’t. She needed order in her life and ­people who didn’t cling to fake girlfriends because commitment sent them racing for the door.

  “Lena.” She turned and saw the knob turn. Chad stepped inside, a devilish grin on his handsome face. “Beautiful, you don’t look relaxed. Or ready for these.”

  He held out his right hand, a pair of toy handcuffs dangling from his index finger.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Plastic handcuffs?”

  “I bought them from toy store at the mall. I’m guessing they’re left over from Halloween.” He swung them back and forth like a pendulum. “Want to see if they’ll hold?”

  She laughed for the first time since they’d walked into the Red Dragon. They were barreling toward the end of their charade, but she couldn’t walk away tonight. Not when he walked in and delivered laughter ­coupled with the promise of sex.

  And handcuffs. She couldn’t forget those.

 
“How about a game?” he said. “First one naked gets to try them on.”

  She raised an eyebrow, watching as he tossed the handcuffs on the bed and went to work removing his clothes. “The first one to wear them will be the only one.”

  Fingers hooked in his boxers, his brown eyes met hers. “Lena, you’re still dressed.”

  “Uh-­huh.” She picked the toy cuffs off the bed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his boxers hit the floor. “Hands behind your back, Chad.”

  He obeyed, positioning his wrists by his low back, every delicious inch of him on full display.

  “And here I thought I was on my best behavior at dinner,” he murmured as she snapped the cuffs into place.

  She ran her hands over his butt. “You were.”

  “This is my reward?” She could hear the wanting in his voice. “Not much of one if you’re still dressed.”

  Her front still to his back, she unzipped her dress, allowing the material to pool at her feet. Adding her underwear to the pile, she said, “Is this better?”

  Lena pressed her body against his, her lips and teeth grazing his shoulder.

  “You’re killing me,” he growled. “Move around where I can see you.”

  With one hand on him, she traced the hard, muscular planes of his body. One glimpse at the raw need in his brown eyes and she knew that whatever happened tomorrow, she wanted tonight.

  Sinking to her knees, Lena wrapped her hand around his cock. Her tongue licked the tip once and she drew back.

  “Lena, I’m one minute away from begging you to release me. I’m dying to run my fingers through your hair and push between your sweet lips.”

  “I’m not letting you go just yet,” she murmured, running her hand up from the base to the tip. “Let’s see how long these handcuffs last.”

  CHAD TILTED HIS head back, studying the motel room ceiling. One look at the gorgeous, naked woman on her knees in front of him and he’d lose it.