Cross My Heart

by K. D. Friedrich

  Cross My Heart

  The Heart Falls Heroes, Book 1

  K.D. Friedrich

  Published 2015

  ISBN: 978-1-62210-183-2

  Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © Published 2015, K. D. Friedrich. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Liquid Silver Books

  http://LSbooks.com

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Blurb

  Struggling with the emotional and physical scars of war, Marine Pete Cross returns to his hometown, Heart Falls, New York, bitter and broken. The last person he wants to see is the stubborn tomboy from his past, Cara Sands. The guy code of ethics demands he keep his hands to himself where his best friend’s sister is concerned, but Cara never got that memo. Apparently, neither did Pete’s libido, because his desire for her is stronger than ever.

  Cara has no clue where the man she loves went, but she’ll do whatever it takes to bring him back. Pete tries to push Cara away with bitterness and anger, but she yanks him right back with understanding and patience. Her persistence drags them closer to an outcome that might destroy them both or show him, once and for all, the power of second chances.

  Dedication

  “The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.” Douglas MacArthur.

  I dedicate this story to my father and to all those who have served and those who continue to serve in our United States Military. We must never forget their sacrifice, courage, and unyielding strength.

  Prologue

  June 2008

  “He is one dumb motherfucker if he lays a hand on Cara,” Pete Cross snarled.

  Cara. Just the sound of her name made his heart expand in his chest and his protective instincts surge.

  The large ranch-style house teemed with half-drunken teens. The last beer bash of the school year was well underway. Pete’s best friend John Sands sat behind the wheel of his dad’s Dodge Intrepid, cracking his knuckles. “You got that right. If that jock touches my sister, he’s dead. Stan Morrison is two years older than her, for Christ’s sake. Cara isn’t ready to date a senior. Shit, she’s not ready to date anyone.”

  “How do you know she’s even interested?” Pete asked as he cradled the remainder of a six-pack of beer on his lap. He knew how rumors ran rampant in Heart Falls High.

  “I overheard Cara talking to Darlene in the hall between periods. She said he asked her out yesterday and she said yes. They scattered when they saw me.”

  Cara’s best friend Darlene was a pain in Pete’s ass. “I bet Darlene set them up. I’m going to talk to her again about pushing guys on Cara.”

  He knew what guys wanted when they stared at Cara, because the same dirty thoughts ran through his pubescent brain. Cara’s not ready to deal with the needs of a male on the verge of adulthood.

  He first met John and Cara when his mom moved him to Heart Falls, New York a few days after his sixth birthday and several months after his parents’ divorce. Cara was a tiny thing back then, just four years old. Right from the start, Pete wanted to shelter her. She was the epitome of innocence. She stood out like a delicate daffodil in a field of weeds.

  He grinned at his description. She’d knock him on his ass for calling her delicate. Her gentle persona didn’t last. Growing up under the watchful eyes of big brother John, her father, and Pete put an end to any girly facade. However, his need to guard her never faded, no matter how hard she fought against his protection.

  When John’s mom died from a brain aneurism about a year after they all met, Pete felt as if he lost his own mother. Standing before her casket, he made her a promise. He would take care of all of them, especially Cara.

  “If he’s here tonight, you let me handle him. You have basic training starting in two days, you can’t afford any trouble.”

  Pete offered a stiff nod, but made no vocal declaration. Joining the Marines had been his ultimate goal since he held the folded flag at his dad’s funeral almost four years ago. A highly decorated soldier, his father died a hero, saving five men during Iraqi Freedom before a bullet to the temple stopped him. Pete swore to make his dad proud by becoming a warrior for the country his father loved, but he’d put all his plans aside and shred any chance of following his father’s footsteps if it kept Cara safe.

  “Pete, I see that look in your eye. I mean it. If Stan Morrison shows tonight, leave him to me.”

  If he shows? Of course he’ll be there. This is the last beer bash of school year. Every damn senior is going to show up tonight.

  “I don’t want to see you fuck anything up. I can handle a punk like Stan myself. Besides, I’m just going to talk to him. Make him see reason. You’re a man of action, Pete. The word ‘talk’ isn’t even in your vocabulary. I know how you get.”

  Pete had to laugh. When it comes to Cara, I can be one mean son of a bitch. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  John shook his head. “Yeah, right.” He took a quick swig of his beer and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He glanced over at a group of teens herding through a gate that led to the backyard. “We better get in there before the keg is gone.”

  “I’m not worried about it. Designated driver, remember.”

  “In that case…” John swiped the remaining beer off Pete’s lap. “I’ll take care of these for you.”

  John quickly guzzled two more beers. After a nasty belch, he opened the last bottle. “All right, I’m ready.”

  Pete shook his head and grinned. “Let’s do this.”

  They jumped out of the car and walked up the pebbled walkway leading around the back of the ranch. Several teens waved, slapping Pete and John’s hands as they passed. Weaving through the crowd, they made their way toward the farthest corner of the backyard.

  John bumped Pete’s shoulder. “I’m heading to the keg.”

  “Dude, you already have a full beer in your hands. Don’t make me carry you out of here tonight.”

  “I’m not going for the beer, brother. I’m going for the pussy. Look at all those willing ladies decorating that keg. It’s like a Budweiser commercial over there.”

  “When are you going to figure out that chicks don’t want to be referred to as pussy?”

  John laughed. “Probably when you figure out they don’t like being called chicks, either.”

  Touché. “I got to take a piss.”

  “All right, you know where I’ll be.” John sauntered toward the keg.

  Pete went around the other side of the ranch, walking up a dirt trail toward an isolated portion of the property. Crickets chirped, following the example of croaking frogs and an occasional hoot of an owl. A half a mile stretched between each house on this side of town, allowing some leeway when it came to privacy.

  A security light suddenly flicked on, exposing a small portion of the woods surrounding the property. Leaning against the largest tree was a couple lost in obvious passion.

  The groper had the girl’s spine plastered against a thick oak trunk, her hands raised above her head. For a second, Pete thought the worst. Maybe this bastard attacked her. Shadows obscured her features, but the soft feminine moans assured Pete the girl enjoyed the advance. Not one to interrupt an obv
ious master at work, Pete tiptoed past.

  “Stan, I’m not sure,” a familiar voice said.

  Pete froze. He locked his gaze on the soft curve of the girl’s calf and exposed thigh as the guy wedged himself between her legs.

  “It’s okay, Cara. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” He held her breast now, kneading the delicate flesh, while his other palm slid over her ass.

  Cara? Pete balled his fists. Shock and anger bounced around his insides. How dare this piece of garbage put a filthy hand on her?

  His blood threatened to boil through his pores. His heart pounded, matching the frantic beat, slamming around his skull. The primal rhythm called for Stan’s destruction. Death was too lenient, too damn merciful for Morrison. No, Pete wanted him to suffer.

  Screw it, he may sound like a caveman and she would hate him for interrupting, but he refused to allow Stan to defile her one more second. He took in the scene one more time. A damn horror show, if you ask me. He allowed the sight to fuel his adrenaline. Pete marched up behind them, ripped Morrison off her, and tossed him into a huge pile of old leaves.

  Jarred by the sudden loss of her molester, Cara stumbled. Pete grabbed her and yanked down her shirt. He tilted her chin up, wiping away a smear of lipstick on the side of her lip with his thumb. Large cobalt eyes, glassy and dazed, stared up at him.

  “Are you okay, Cara?” She giggled. Cara never giggled. The stink of liquor permeated from her. Pete narrowed his eyes. “You’re fucking drunk?” he roared. “I’m gonna kill him.”

  He spun to find a furious Stan picking leaves and twigs from his hair. “You’re out of your mind, man,” Stan shouted, brushing dirt from his shirt.

  Pete charged with his fist drawn back. He struck hard, slamming his knuckles into Stan’s jaw. Blood sprayed on impact, decorating Pete’s shirt and giving him an enormous sense of satisfaction. Stan fell back to the ground with a thud.

  “You piece of shit. What did you do to her? She’s only fifteen,” Pete roared. He leapt on top of Stan and starting pounding on his face. “Get her drunk and then do what you want to her?”

  Behind him, several piercing screams carried over the distant music, followed by scurrying footsteps. Pete ignored them both.

  “She deserves better!” he shouted. “Flowers and candy.” He threw another punch. “A proper date where you pick her up.” Another blow landed on Stan’s ribs. “Meet her father. Show her respect.” Not the groping he witnessed.

  Pete wanted to jackhammer the words into the slime ball’s thick skull, into any guy’s head who dared touch her. Who knows how many shots he landed before an arm reached around his throat and pulled him back. Blood coated his swelling knuckles, while adrenaline continued to surge through his body.

  “Let me go. I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch.”

  “Back down, man,” John said. Pete struggled against John’s hold. “He’s not worth a night in jail.”

  To avenge Cara’s honor, Pete would serve a life sentence. Shit, he’d sell his damn soul.

  “He had her against the tree,” Pete said, unable to catch his breath or his temper. “His hands were all over her.” He struggled against John’s hold. “You’re a dead man.”

  “We were just kissing.” Cara stumbled over to help Stan. “It’s not your business.”

  Pete shouted, “Don’t touch him, Cara. Don’t go near him.”

  “What the hell is going on?” John demanded. He pointed at Cara. “You’re supposed to be sleeping at Darlene’s.”

  A swarm of spectators began to form a ring around them, their curious hungry eyes, memorizing what was sure to become summer’s first bit of juicy gossip.

  “You don’t tell me where I’m supposed to be. I’ll be wherever I want to be,” Cara cried.

  “Are you freaking kidding me? She’s loaded.” John glared at Stan before addressing a few of the guys in the crowd. His eyes filled with contempt. “Get your boy out of here before I finish what my man started.” When they didn’t move fast enough, he roared, “Now!” Members of the basketball team scurried over and dragged a moaning Stan out of the yard.

  Pete started to go after the motley crew. Cara cut him off, jabbing her finger into his chest. “You ruined everything. Because of you and him.” She glared at her brother. Her body swayed, almost tipping, while her words slurred. “I’m a social leper at this school. No guys will even talk to me.”

  “That’s what you call talking?” John shouted. He crowded her as their audience gathered closer. John spun on them. “This ain’t the freaking Enquirer. Leave.”

  Cara stopped and glanced at the bug-eyed faces staring back at her. Tears spilled over her lashes. “No, allow me. I’m outta here.” She lifted her chin, stood up straight, and marched out of the yard.

  “Cara, wait.” Pete went to follow her.

  John stepped in his path. “I should have let you finish him off. Goddamn piece of shit,” John snarled, his fists clenched at his sides.

  Adrenaline and anger began to fade, giving way to the sting of reality. Pete had messed up. Whenever Cara stepped foot in his path, his common sense took a back seat to his emotion. Pete shook with the need to go after her.

  John must have noticed, because he said, “Go on, bring her back. I’d go, but I value my nuts.”

  Pete nodded and then darted along the pathway leading to the front of the house. He stopped at the edge of the street and glanced left and then right. He caught sight of her marching up the block. Her arms crossed over her chest, while her amazing behind bobbed back and forth. She stumbled on a pothole in the street, but caught herself on a nearby car. He jogged over to her, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. “Where are you going?”

  “Away from you,” Cara snapped. She yanked her arm from his hold.

  “Let us take you home. It’s late. You’re upset.” Drunk like a skunk, he should add.

  She refused to stop. Instead, she increased her speed. He latched onto her once again and spun her around to face him. “Let me rephrase. We’re taking you home.”

  “I’m not a child, you know.” Oh, he knew. “I didn’t ask for your protection, and I don’t want it.” A teardrop fell from the corner of her eye.

  Please God, no tears. He wanted to pull her into his arms. He resisted. “Don’t cry over that idiot.”

  She pushed at his chest. “Stan liked me. He made me feel pretty.”

  “Jocks like him only want one thing, Cara.”

  “Yeah, the same thing you want. Well, what you want from every other girl but me.” Her gaze dropped to the ground. Pain and humiliation radiated from her.

  Didn’t she know how desirable she was? “Cara, look at me.” Their gazes locked tight. “What do you mean, everyone but you?”

  “Forget it.”

  She slipped from his hold and sprinted up the block. How she had the ability to drink like a fish and run quicker than a damn racehorse eluded him. He sprang to action and captured her in his arms.

  She struggled. “Let me go, you stupid jerk.”

  Pete caged her against the nearest truck and held her there. “You think I don’t want you?” Where the hell did that come from? Keep your mouth shut and drag her back to John, you fool. He now stood inches from her full lips.

  Silence stretched between them.

  “Do you want me, Pete?” she whispered.

  She planted those big baby blues on him, causing the world around them to slow to a crawl. He lifted his hand and caressed her cheek. He loved her skin, softer than silk. Before he knew what had happened, Cara closed the last few inches and kissed him.

  Her lips were the flavor of cherry lip balm and spearmint, laced in rum, a wild combination. She never wore perfume. The sweet scent surrounding him was pure and unmistakably Cara.

  He groaned and deepened the kiss, tasting the remnants of liquor and cola. Why did he deny himself this? The reason hovered out of reach.

  While cradling her cheek with
one hand, he snaked an arm around her waist with the other, drawing her flush to his body. She clung to his chest as if assuring herself no one would take him from her.

  Their mouths played, moved against each other with an edge of inexperience and a promise of unimaginable passion. Her hesitant tongue slipped past his lips, a test of his acceptance. Unable to resist her, he welcomed the caress and offered her the same eagerness. She fisted her fingers in his shirt, imbedding her nails in his chest. A welcome pain he craved. He speared his fingers through her wavy hair and massaged her scalp. She moaned her approval, a soft, feminine whimper that almost made him shatter with release. He was lost, drowning in sensation.

  Headlights flashed.

  A car sped by.

  The disruption created a split second spotlight and a harsh reminder. A whole world existed around them, a world where honor held a position above lust and where friendship and trust meant everything. As much as he detested it, Cara hovered somewhere on the other side, well out of reach. John put her there, his message loud and clear, although no specific words were uttered: Lay a hand on Cara and they were no longer brothers.

  He had gone too far tonight, stepped over an invisible line, seduced by a pair of luscious, cherry-flavored lips and years of unfulfilled curiosity. He yanked back. “What am I doing?”

  “Pete, I…that…” She touched her lips with her fingers in awe before reaching for him.

  He stepped back so fast he almost fell. “We can’t. It’s not right. John would—”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I do. You’re drunk, you’re not thinking right.”

  “You kissed me back. You liked it.”

  Liked it, he wanted to drown in her. He shook his head. “We can’t do this. It’s not gonna happen, Cara.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “I can’t be with Stan…I can’t be with you…who can I be with…huh? No one will ever be good enough for you or John. I’m gonna die a darn virgin.”

  “Stan is a piece of crap. He goes through girls like a damn drive-through.”