by Candy Crum
Make sure to join the newsletter for upcoming FREEBIES and updates!
www.candycrumbooks.com
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Make sure to read BOOK ONE!
Rebound: Bending the Rules Book 1
Chapter One
Desiree
The room was dark, but I could hear people talking all around me. Even before I could see anything, I knew. I knew where I was. It’s where I always ended up. It wasn't real. I was asleep. One of the few moments that I managed to get any rest, and there I was. My usual nightmare.
I heard someone say it… his name. Caleb. My husband.
My late husband.
My heart fell again. It had been nearly a year and I still dreamed of him every night. He would hate me for that, but I couldn’t help it. I still felt guilty. There was so much that I could have done had I been even a little more intuitive. I loved him completely and I desperately wanted to believe him when he said that he felt better.
There were more smiles. More laughs. More "I love you". More… MORE! He’d been far less depressed and had become very active. We did a lot of fun things all the time, like camping, hiking, and fishing. We went everywhere. I wasn’t the most outdoorsy girl in the world, but I didn’t complain. I smiled and did it for him. Anything to get him smiling!
It was as if we'd fallen in love all over again. My heart had never been so full. To see someone you love so deeply fall so far, then come back again is a beautiful thing. It’s a relief and a weight lifted like you’ve never felt before. We were so happy.
Now, when I look back, I know what happened. He was a good, sweet man. He treated me like his queen. He knew that it was killing me to see him hurt so badly. Deep down, he knew his time had come to an end. He’d come to the end of his rope. He couldn’t take the pain and suffering anymore, but more than that, he couldn’t take watching me try to help him anymore. I remember little things he’d said back then that didn’t seem like much, but now they seem monumental. Like when he said that he hated to see me worry over him, or that he missed seeing nothing but light and hope in my eyes. Those seem like normal things for someone to say to someone they love, if they know they are hurting, but not in that situation. I did my best to hide it and smile like always, but he knew anyway. I was a therapist and I had no idea how to help him. He was stuck and I couldn’t pull him out.
In the end, he wanted to leave the pain behind for good, but not the way things had been. I truly believe he turned around so much to give me peace. He wanted our last days together to be special. For that, I will always be grateful to him, but I will always regret that I didn’t see that before he died. That I didn’t see what he was doing. He wasn’t the first to do that sort of thing, and he won’t be the last.
He’d never told me the things he saw in his three tours to Iraq and Afghanistan, but his condition was more than enough to know that it was truly awful. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a common and terrible disease, eating away at people from the inside. It convinces them of the most awful things. Things no person should ever think or feel.
Logically, I knew that I suffered from it as well. Not in the severity that he did, but I saw him every night. I relived the moments where I discovered his body in the basement, covered in blood. I relived the moments where I was forced to listen to family and friends, both his and mine, recount the life, kindness, and selflessness of my husband throughout his lifetime. I relived that pain daily. I couldn’t escape it.
Standing there, lost in my dream and unable to awaken, I waited for the world to come into focus. I knew that it would. It always did. The first face that I saw was my cousin by marriage, Elizabeth.
She and I had always been close, but Caleb’s death had brought us even closer. We talked nearly every day. She was the only reason I survived that terrible weekend nearly a year ago. She'd come to stay with me and take care of me. She and Jax, her boyfriend, had been amazing. It was no surprise that it was her that I turned to for strength.
“Are you ready for this?” Elizabeth asked me. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
No. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to be anywhere near there. I wanted to wake up, or at least take control of my dream.
“I’ll be fine,” I said as always in that recurring dream.
It was a lie, of course. I was a pushover. I would rather lie and make the other person feel better than to be honest and have them feel a moment of sadness or pity for me. I wanted to tell her to get me out of there, but it was pointless to try.
“Will you come with me to say, 'goodbye?'” I asked Elizabeth.
Oh, no, I thought. That was new. Before, I’d always walked to the front and sat on the pew. I’d never been to the casket in the dreams. In reality, it was closed because of the nature of his death. He’d committed suicide using a gun. My demented, twisted mind was trying to tell me something and I didn’t want to take any part of it.
Enveloped in a veil of anxiety, unable to protest in any way and forced to go along for the ride, I took Elizabeth’s hand and began walking down the aisle. The crowd parted for us, sad expressions mixed with pity marred their faces as I looked into the eyes of each individual on the way through.
With every step, I inhaled deeply and exhaled hard. We’d made it just over halfway when the left end of the casket opened, slowly rising to reveal my husband. I could feel my real body beginning to quiver, though my dream body was steady, clearly unaware of what was about to happen.
Wake up, I thought to myself. Just wake up!
I didn’t want to see him. Not again. Once was enough. In the beginning, in the first few months after his death, I dreamed of finding him in the basement. Somehow, I’d managed to cure myself of that. It was the most traumatic thing I’d ever seen.
“You have to let go,” Elizabeth said unexpectedly.
“What?” I asked.
Wait… I'd said it in my mind, but my dream avatar followed suit.
“Don’t make me do this,” I said, testing my influence.
“You have to,” she said. “It’s been a year. You have to let him go and let yourself heal. Look at him. Accept what has happened. Tell him that you love him. Say, 'goodbye.'”
“I just need time,” I said.
“You’ve had time,” Elizabeth said, giving my hand a light squeeze. “You’re drowning yourself in misery. It’s been a year. It’s time.”
I looked forward and saw how close we'd come. I didn’t want to go any further, but it didn’t seem that my body allowed me the same control as my mouth had.
The trembling quickly became worse. I prayed that it would become enough that it would jostle me awake. Mentally, I was willing myself to wake up or fight against Elizabeth’s hold. Anything to get away. I closed my eyes, thanking God for allowing at least that much control.
“Look, Desiree,” Elizabeth said. “Look at him.”
I shook my head, gaining just a bit more will.
“Elizabeth.”
That voice…
My eyes snapped open as that beautiful sound echoed through the funeral home and into my dreaming ears.
There he was. Lying there. Still, but awake. I began to panic as the uncontrollable sobbing began. His face w
as so full of peace, despite the blood everywhere. He looked just as he did that night and I couldn’t hold myself together.
“No,” I said. “Please! Let me go!”
I found that I was able to move then. I began pulling against Elizabeth, begging her to let me go.
“Desiree,” Caleb said again. “Stop. Stop fighting.”
I screamed, the panic overtaking me. I felt my entire body jerking, reacting to the extreme stress that I felt in my sleep, but it still wasn’t enough to pull me out.
Finally, I broke free of Elizabeth’s grasp. I took one last look at my husband lying there, my vision almost immediately clouding as my eyes filled with tears. I turned and ran then, desperate to get away. People began cluttering the aisle, but I pushed through. I didn’t care anymore. I was rough as I shoved people out of my way. They weren’t real, but my emotional distress sure was.
My head was beginning to ache with the amount of anxiety that I was putting myself through, but the rush of freedom that I felt as I pushed through the last row of people was incredible. I reached the double doors and flung them open, only to be met by my husband.
The shock of seeing anyone there, let alone him, brought a loud scream out of me as I dropped to my knees. I sat there, staring up at him. He was enveloped in a bright light that obscured everything else.
His face…
It was him. He wasn’t terrifying. He wasn’t a mess. It was him. My baby. I exhaled hard, bittersweet tears rolling down my cheeks, my mouth left hanging open.
“Caleb,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
“You have to stop,” he said. “Stop torturing yourself.”
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him that I felt terrible that he was so alone up until the end and that I wished I had known. There were so many things that I wanted to say, but my eyes opened instead. I was now awake in my bed. I jumped when I realized that I wasn’t alone. Elizabeth was leaning over me, her hand resting on my shoulder. Worry covered her face.
“Desi,” she said, her voice very soft. “I’ve been shaking you, but you wouldn’t wake up. I heard you screaming, so I had Jax break in.”
“Now that I know you’re okay, I’m going to run to the Depot and grab the stuff to fix the door,” Jax said. “Are you girls okay here?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, forcing myself into a sitting position. “Thank you for coming to the rescue. Jax, honey, don’t worry about the door. I’ll get it fixed. I don’t know what happened. I was trying so hard to wake up, but I just couldn’t. Wait… What are you guys doing here?”
“I kicked it in; I’ll fix it. Besides, I don’t trust someone else to do the job. I want it done right,” Jax said before delivering a wink and one of his award-winning smiles.
I returned a smile. “Thank you.”
“No problem at all,” he said.
He turned and left the room. I imagined he was getting ready to leave as promised.
“As for why we are here, I know you,” Elizabeth said. “I knew this time of year would be hard on you and I wanted to be here with you!”
“We!” Jax called from the other room. “We wanted to be here.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Yes. We. We took a week of vacation to come and stay with you. I wanted to make sure you had all the support you’d need.”
I smiled. “Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me. I didn’t realize how badly I needed anyone with me until I saw you.”
She ran her fingers through my hair, a sad smile on her face. I heard the back door close and knew that Jax had just left.
“I have to go to work,” I said. “I have appointments today.”
“You don’t seem like you’re in any condition for that. Why don’t you reschedule them?”
“I can’t this short notice, but I probably will for the rest of the week. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t. The dreams have been getting worse.”
“Clearly,” Elizabeth said. “Have you thought about seeing a therapist? There are no rules against that.”
I laughed. “Nope. No rules against it, but could you imagine what would happen if anyone found out? I’d lose clients. I’d be a laugh. I can’t do that. I just need to figure out how to get over this.”
I stood up and made my way over to the closet. I didn’t want to go to work. I didn’t even want to get out of bed, but there were people depending on me.
“You put way too much stuff on yourself,” Elizabeth said. “I love you, but you need a break. Make sure you put in for vacation for the rest of the week. You need to rest and focus on yourself. Your clients will understand.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I said. “I will. Now that you’re here, all I want to do is focus on family and my husband.”
Elizabeth’s brows furrowed, worry encroaching on her delicate face. I could tell that she was biting her tongue. I knew what she wanted to say. That he was my late husband. That he was just Caleb then. They were cousins. They were incredibly close and treated each other like siblings rather than extended family. She felt guilt for his death, wondering if there was more she could have done, but it didn’t consume her. She processed his death the way that it was supposed to be. The way that I should have, but couldn’t. I envied her that, but I hated the way she looked at me sometimes, though I knew it was out of worry and caring instead of irritation.
She hugged me before standing to let me out of bed. I picked out some clothes while we talked about their drive up. I managed to hold the conversation, but my mind was on my dream and seeing Caleb. It was the first time I’d seen him as he was in life. I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. I was used to everyone else telling me to let go, but it had never come from him. Sure, it had been only a dream, but his words stuck with me. Part of me wanted to just dismiss the whole thing, but the part of me that understood that dreams of that nature are trying to speak to the dreamer knew that my brain was trying to tell me that I needed to do exactly what he’d asked me to do. What everyone had been asking me to do. Learn to move on and be happy again.
Chapter Two
Aiden
I sat staring at the glass on the bar, the amber liquid swishing a bit after having been put down. It had been nearly a year and I hadn’t been back there. I wanted to stick around and help Caleb’s wife, but I couldn’t. I felt like the best thing for her was to not have to see my face. After all, when he wasn’t at home with her, he was deployed with me. I wouldn’t want to see me if I were her. The last thing that I wanted was to hurt her. In the end, I decided to head out of town.
The military had given me everything that I had. They taught me respect, not only for myself, but for others. They taught me how to take care of myself and how to defend the ones that I cared about most. They gave me adventure. I’ve been places I never could have dreamed of and it was all because of my career. I owe so much to the choices that I’ve made and the man they’ve taught me to be.
On the other side, it had taken a lot of things from me as well. Caleb was my best friend. We did three tours together and had managed to become brothers through that. He’d saved my ass a time or two and I wasn’t the only one. My contract was due to end in the summer, but I’d planned to sign back on as I’d done before. When Caleb died, however, that changed everything. I didn’t want to go back into an active unit. The smaller my chance of getting deployed, the better.
Caleb and I had seen many of the same things. You can only see so many of your friends die in so many ways before your brain stops functioning properly. Somehow, I’d managed to hold myself together a bit better than he’d been able to. It wasn’t from weakness on his part, of that I’m certain. He was the ballsiest guy I’d ever met. It was simply because his heart was too big. The only thing that made him sign on was his girl. He wanted to make a life for her and he knew he’d never be able to, coming from where he did. He wanted to go to college and be able to put her through, too, and he did. He wanted to give her the world. His pure heart made him strong for all of
us, but not nearly strong enough for himself.
I sighed as I took another drink from my glass. It was far too early to be drinking, but it was time enough for me that day. It had been just a few days shy of a year since he died and it was hitting me far harder than I expected. It was true that I hadn’t had the best time letting go of it, but I’d certainly been able to push through. Knowing that he’d kill me for being bummed all the time kept me going, but the amount of time that had already passed was weighing on me.
In an entire year, I’d done nothing. I hadn’t kept a single promise that I’d made to him. During our first tour together, an Improvised Explosive Device went off roadside. The first and second vehicles in our convoy were hit. Five of our men died immediately and several more were injured very badly, some of those dying later from their wounds. We had to do things no human should ever have to in order to get those men back to safety. Caleb had been the first to start dragging people away from the blast zone and begin life saving measures.
He saved several lives that day, including mine. I’d suffered a punctured lung, several broken ribs, a gash in my leg that had only barely missed my femoral artery, and several other wounds. Had he not been so fast to react, I’d have died. That night when we were all safe back at the base, after the bodies had been retrieved, we’d been stabilized, and then fully recounted everything that had happened, Caleb made me promise that if anything ever happened to him that I would take care of his girl.
“Hey… Guy,” I had said, grunting through the pain of getting moved around on the cot that I was lying on. “I’m the one dying here. Not you.”
“You’re not dying. You’re being a bitch baby,” he said.
“So are you,” I replied. “I’m not promising anything like that. I owe you my life. I’m never going to let anything happen to you. That, I will promise you.”
“That’s great,” Caleb said. “And I will gladly take that, but I want this instead. Please. Promise me that if anything happens to me, that you will make sure to be the one to tell her. That you will make sure nothing happens to her, too.”
