by S. R. Jones
I’m about to do something awful like smash my bedside lamp over Luka, which I’m not sure I can actually do, when Tristan pulls back and punches Luka hard, straight in the face.
Luka doesn’t let go.
Jesus. He doesn’t let go. And he shakes Tristan like a dog might shake its rag toy.
“You fucking piece of shit. Fucking think we don’t have the intel on what you fucks have been doing. You’re going to get it now.” He punches Tristan in the gut, who jerks and tries to double over but can’t because Luka still has him around the throat. And seeing this, this violence in Luka, I’m heartbroken because I’m seeing a manifestation of the cold bastard he was out there.
I grab the lamp and breathe deeply. I must do this. I tell myself it won’t kill Luka, but if I don’t do it Luka will kill Tristan. My friend’s face is almost purple. He suddenly kicks out with his leg and jams Luka between the knees. With a grunt Luka finally lets go.
Tristan falls to the floor with a cry.
He crawls into the corner and he’s coughing and choking. Drawing in painful gasps of air as his eyes stream.
My eyes are streaming too, with tears at the whole situation. I scramble over to Tristan and wrap my arms around him.
“Cara?” Luka’s eyes are focused now. Not horrible blanks anymore, but instead wild and terrified.
“Christ.” Tristan chokes the word out as he rubs at his throat.
Luka steps off the bed but his legs tangle in the sheets and he goes down, hard, onto the wooden floor.
“Luka?” I daren’t go to him. Daren’t touch him. Is he fully with us now? Was this a night terror or a flashback?
I feel awful. Luka is struggling to right himself, the sheet all messed up around him, and I can’t go to him because I’m scared.
The man I’d started to see as my hero, I suddenly see as someone to be wary of.
I hate this so much.
Luka reaches an arm out and points to Tristan’s throat. “Did I do that?”
Tristan nods. “Yeah, you did, you fucker.”
I flinch at Tristan’s words. “He didn’t do it on purpose. He was dreaming.”
Tristan coughs some more and makes a gagging sound. I look at him and his throat is turning mottled. Shit. “I think you need the hospital,” I tell him.
“I’ll drive you both there,” Luka says.
“No thanks, mate. You’ve done enough.” Tristan sounds bitter and harsh, and I see pain flash across Luka’s features before he covers it with a scowl.
“Can we all calm down for a moment.” I’m panicking myself, but I try to soothe the situation. “Luka’s right, you need treatment. You’re in no fit state to drive, and I’m far too shaky. Luka is fine now. Whatever you think of what happened, it wasn’t done on purpose.” I try to get Tristan to meet my gaze, but he won’t. He’s staring at the floor, jaw set in angry lines. God, what if he prosecutes Luka? It could fuck up his life totally for something that was an accident. I’d have to testify. My heart pounds as my brain races ahead of the situation. Borrowing trouble, as my mum used to say.
“I’m so sorry.” Luka’s voice breaks on the word sorry, and it makes my heart ache. “Fuck, I could have hurt you, Cara. Shit. I’m going to get dressed and then take you guys to the hospital.”
“Will you wait with us, or shall I see you back here?” Even as I ask, I know he’s going to leave.
I see it in his eyes, and in this moment, I realise how much he’s come to mean to me. And how much this is going to hurt. I want to beg him to stay, but I’m not sure I should, for my own sake or his.
He needs help, that’s clear.
Luka shakes his head. “I’ll drop you off and go home. I’ll call Liam. Reece, too. He’s only five minutes away. None of those guys have turned up, and I doubt they will now. But if anyone does, Reece can be here super quick. Three minutes at night, the way he drives. You’ll be safe.”
“Are you going back home?” I’m blinking away tears now. I don’t want him to go. Not like this.
“Cara…I could have hurt you. I hurt your friend. My hands could have been wrapped around your throat instead. I’m supposed to be here to protect you, not put you in danger. I did it in my sleep. I can’t be trusted.”
“Too fucking right, Cara. He can’t.” Tristan takes my hand and I jerk it back.
“Get yourselves sorted. I’m going to get dressed.” Luka stands with surprising dignity to say he’s been sprawled on the floor and grabs his bag, heading out of the room to the bathroom. He lets the sheet fall and walks away from me, naked, back ramrod straight.
I stare at Tristan and burst into tears.
“He’s a fucking mess. You’re not safe around him.” Tristan is still fuming, and I don’t blame him. But his words are unfair.
“You grabbed him when he was asleep,” I point out. “You’re not supposed to grab people who have flashbacks or night terrors, I don’t think you’re even supposed to wake them up. That’s why I left him alone.”
“I didn’t know he was asleep, did I?” Tristan speaks through gritted teeth. “I thought he was threatening you, being an abusive dick.”
“I get it, and thank you for trying to help me, but all I’m saying is… This is a horrible incident, but no one is at fault.”
“Yes, they are. He is. He’s not safe to be around.”
A shadow falls over us, and Luka is watching us, his face set like stone.
“God, Tristan –” I’m getting upset with him now.
“No, he’s right.” Luka clips out the words. “Mate, you ready to go?”
Tristan nods but doesn’t say anything.
My heart is breaking, and I feel sick as I drag myself up from the floor to get dressed. I grab some underwear, jeans, and a sweater, and rush into the bathroom to put them on.
When I’m ready I stop and look at myself in the mirror. My red hair and blue eyes stand out against my wan skin. I’m pale and shaky, and I’m also mixed up. Luka scared me tonight. He scared me a lot. But I also don’t and can’t blame him. I think if Tristan hadn’t grabbed him, Luka wouldn’t have hurt anyone. I don’t want it to end. Yes, I’ll be a bit wary around him for a while, but I don’t want things to end between us. The thought of not seeing him again makes me want to weep.
“Cara?” It’s Tristan. He sounds impatient and my gratitude is starting to wear thin.
I exit the bathroom and wince when I see how red Tristan’s neck looks. It’s going to bruise on the side where Luka wrapped his fingers around him.
We head out of the house and into the car. Luka guns the engine and tears out of the parking space onto the road. All the time we’re driving, I’m aware of Tristan fuming silently from the back. We arrive ten minutes later to a thankfully quiet, mid-week, emergency room. The nurse calls Tristan in quick to triage.
I finally get a chance to talk to Luka. “Please, don’t run away because of this.” I can’t believe what I am saying, putting my heart on the line this way.
He looks at me and his expression is cold, flat. That hardness I saw in him at the start is right in my face now. Immovable and harsh. “You should be glad I’m gone. You don’t like me, what I do for a living, what I stand for, and I’ve proven you right. I’m a violent thug, and you’re better off without me.”
“Oh, fuck off, Luka!” His eyes widen in shock at my words. Good. “Yes, I might have a different opinion to you of the military, but this is nothing to do with that. This is about us, and I like you. As a person, and I do think you’re good. You did what you thought was the best you could for yourself and the country. We might have different views, but we both do what we think is best.”
He stares straight ahead and the only sign he’s feeling anything is the tick along his jaw. “I failed everyone.”
What does he even mean? “No, you haven’t. You haven’t failed Sally or Poppy. Or me.”
He snorts. “Give it time.”
“Jesus. You won the Conspicuous Gallantry Cross, you’re a her
o. Don’t be so down on yourself.”
He turns and fixes his gaze on me, and its hard as steel. “I don’t deserve that medal.” I try to speak but he holds his hand up. He lowers his voice and leans in closer so no one else waiting can hear. “Yes, I saved two British soldiers, but some Afghani girls died. I couldn’t save them. I saw them, their eyes, staring at me as they were gunned down. I don’t deserve that medal. I can’t even bear to look at it.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m lost for words, which is a rarity. I don’t know what happened the day he’s talking about, but I don’t doubt for a moment he did all he could to save those girls.
I begin to say as much but he cuts me off with a muttered curse.
“Fucking leave it. It’s not open for discussion. I know what happened because I was there. This chat is over. I’m waiting to see how Tristan is and then I’m out of here.”
I’m shocked at his coldness, and the way he doesn’t seem to be letting himself feel anything. At his harsh words, and frozen demeanour.
The door to the triage room opens and Tristan stalks out. “The nurse thinks I’m going to be okay. She says I need to see the doctor to double check, but she’s ninety-nine percent sure I’m going to be fine, other than some bruising and a sore throat for a few days.”
He’s not seemingly softened any, though, despite the good news. His face is set, and he avoids looking at Luka.
“I’m out of here. If you want to talk to the police, Cara can give you my address.” Luka stands and finally he looks at me, and there’s something other than coldness in his gaze. There’s a sadness too, and that scares me more, because it makes things seem more final.
“Luka.” I start to stand, but he shakes his head.
“I’ve got to go. Are you going to be okay getting back?” I nod but tears are pricking at my eyes.
I don’t know if I’m ever going to be okay again.
Luka
Twelve
“What about that time Badger stripped off and wrestled with that huge German Shepherd for a bet?” Ethan laughs, tipping his head back and showing his pearly whites.
“Priceless.” I laugh along even though I’m not feeling it. “He’d have been fucked if that dog had bitten him in some tender regions.”
“God, you lot.” Isla shakes her head at the two of us.
We’re sat around Ethan’s big, comfy kitchen table on my second night here. Last night I turned up after the hospital shaken and upset, and they welcomed me with open arms, no questions asked.
Tonight, we’ve had a lovely meal, and now we’re all drinking beer in their kitchen. Isla’s obviously done it out since she moved in, as the place seems a lot warmer than last time I was here. There are copper and steel pans hanging from deep hooks in the ceiling, and a Belfast sink I’m sure is new.
When I first met her, I’d liked her myself. Ethan had called and said he needed help with some woman he’d been trying to protect, and I’d met them in a bar to discuss it. Her unique beauty had astounded me at the time, but then I met Cara, and now Isla’s blonde innocence does nothing for me. I can see she’s a beautiful woman, but these days I’m all about red hair, and flashing blue eyes.
“Hey, we’re not bad at all. Calm as cucumbers compared to a lot of Bootnecks.” Ethan laughs and drops a kiss on Isla’s cheek.
I take a swig of my beer. “Yeah, colleague of ours, bloke called Maitland, was a right monster. Maitland’s Mrs. had to write his name and phone number on his sleeve in marker when he went out with the lads. He’s ended up in the clink many times, so drunk he doesn’t know up from down.”
“If you behaved like that you wouldn’t set foot in this house again.” Isla narrows her eyes at Ethan.
“See, Luka. And that’s why you need the love of a good woman. Keep you on the straight and narrow.”
He grins, and I lower my eyes. I’ve not told him the whole reason why I’m here yet. I called and asked if I could stay for a few days, texted Sally telling her not to worry, but I needed to bug out for a while. Get my head on right.
I think I might have been in reach of having the love of a good woman, but my huge fucking issues messed it up. I can’t risk hurting her the way I hurt Tristan. I might not like that slimy fucker, saw right through him the moment I met him. But she’s safer with him than me. He won’t strangle the life out of her at night. I might.
I’m a mess. Washed up and worn out. Too fucked up to be of use to anyone. I’d been right all along about letting people down, but I let myself hope. Now, after what I did, the hope is gone, but the pain isn’t.
I miss her. Badly. She’s got under my skin, and my body and mind seem to think I should be the one to protect her. My soul has somehow claimed her as mine. But my rational side says I need to let her go. I’m too messed up to be a good long-term bet, and I’ll only let her down at some point.
Isa stands and walks out of the room, ruffling Ethan’s hair as she passes. “I’m going to have a nice soak in the bath, and leave you two to get messy down here, but don’t drink too much.” She closes the kitchen door behind her.
The silence lingering in the empty air behind her seems oppressive without Isla’s light presence. I don’t know what to say. Normally, Ethan and me are tight. Close as brothers in some ways. But I’ve got a sick sensation in my stomach at the idea of sharing what I did.
Ethan walks over to the fridge, takes out two more beers, and pops the tops on them. He hands me one and sits to nurse his own. He doesn’t say anything, but gives me an expectant look that telegraphs, spit it out.
I don’t take the bait and he sighs. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? You arrive here out of the blue—not that I mind, you’ve always got a place here – but you looked like shit when you arrived, and I know you. Something is up.”
I pick at the label on my bottle where the ends curl up with the condensation. “How’s the business coming along? Liam said anything about how we’re doing?”
I’ve only been working there for a while, but Liam wants to make me and Ethan partners if things keep going well, along with Reece.
“It’s doing well. But you can find that out for yourself, by looking at the books.” He pauses, sips at his drink, and fixes me with his knowing gaze. “Mate. You going to tell me why you’re here?”
I shift back in my chair and tap the top of my bottle. “I fucked up. Hurt somebody.”
“Hurt them how?” Ethan doesn’t seem shocked, but he was there in Afghanistan when the shit went down. He was also there more recently when I got too close to a blast in that cave. He knows what happened, and he also knows exactly what I faced a few years before on that patrol. He doesn’t have night terrors though. He’s stronger than me.
“I had a night terror, and this guy, a friend of a girl whose house I’d crashed at, he came in and tried to wake me.”
“Ah.” Ethan’s brow draws down tight. “I can guess where this is going.”
“He fucking put his hands on me, shouted at me, and I reacted. Got him by the throat. I only woke when he kicked me in the balls. By then I’d already made a mess of his throat.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“He’s bruised and sore, but no real damage.”
Ethan scratches his head. “So, if he’s okay, and you didn’t mean for it to happen, why the freak out?”
“Fucking hell, Ethan. I could have killed him. Worse, it could have been Cara. The girl. I’m not okay to be around when I dream like that. And I never know when it’s going to happen, so…well, it kind of makes relationships difficult.”
I go into the horrible details and tell him everything that happened, as far as I’m aware.
“Don’t let this set you back. Your friend wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up about it, right? Or is she more than a friend, and that’s what this is about?”
“She’s more than a friend. More than something casual, too. Now you know why I need to stay away. Nothing can come of it. Imagine if you kicked Is
la in the night, or got her in a choke hold? As if you’d forget about it the next day and blithely move on? And her friend, this Tristan geezer, is after her. Wants her. So, she’s got a chance at something with someone else.”
“He’s a better man than you, is he?”
“That’s not setting the bar high,” I shoot back at Ethan. “I didn’t like him, but he wants her, and I doubt he’d ever hurt her. Not physically anyway. Something about him didn’t set right, but that’s probably only me seeing things because I don’t like him trying to stake a claim.”
“But you didn’t hurt her, did you? Have you considered that even if she had been the one to get hold of you, things might have gone differently? I expect she’d shake you gently, and your body would know on some level it was her. Maybe you did what you did because some strange man put his hands on you in an aggressive manner? You’ve never hurt anyone else. No history of it. And you screwed plenty of women when you got back. You never hurt any of us when we had to wake you out there.”
I don’t answer because I don’t fucking know what would happen if Cara got hold of me.
“So.” After a long pause, Ethan levels me with his gaze. “Are you really into this woman?”
“I think so. It’s not been long…but I like her. Since coming home, I’ve spent my time walking through this fog. Everything seems grey, tasteless. Like this bubble separated the rest of the world and me, and I couldn’t penetrate it. Cara though, I suppose she somehow got through to me.”
I pause, thinking what I’m going to say next is cheesy as shit, but it’s the truth, and I man up. “She’s in colour. It’s the only way I can put it.”
“Then don’t let her go.”
“It’s not so simple.”
“It is. You can get help. Sleep separate from her until you do. There’s all sorts of treatment, and I honestly doubt you’d have hurt her.”
He takes a sip of beer. “I keep saying this, but I’d put good money on it going down the way it did because that idiot burst in and grabbed you, shouting at you. That’s why your body reacted the way it did. Fucking hell, I’ve woken you enough times out in the field, and you’ve never hit my ugly mug. Yeah, you have bad dreams. But you never went for me or any of the other guys. Hey, if you’re worried, teach her the toe thing.”
