Finally, Our Forever

by Elisa Leigh

  I look up to Reece, who is trying to hold his shit together for me. He stands and holds his hand out to me and I take it. “Let’s talk inside, baby.” As he walks us into the house, he closes and locks the door, then follows me into the kitchen.

  “Baby, I don’t want you near him. I know you can’t cut him out completely because of Bennett, but if I can’t be with you, you will meet him in a public place when you are picking up and dropping him off.”

  I stare at my feet, not knowing what to say. I know he’s right, but I also know that doesn’t change much. I hated the way David spoke to me, especially in front of Reece. I can live with it, though.

  “Are you hearing me, Maci Kate?”

  I shake my head, and he sighs. I look up and see that he’s leaning against the island across from me. Something is still bothering me about what David said. “Reece?”

  “Angel?” I smile at his name for me. “How did he even know you were here? Do you think he’s watching me?”

  Reece shakes his head sadly. “I’m not sure, baby. Maybe he—shit, never mind. I’m not sure. I’m going to have some guys come out and look around. They’ll put in a security system too, and change your locks. They’ll be here tomorrow when you get home from work.”

  Did he just tell me what is going to happen to my house? Like he has some right to it? I hate it when people tell me what to do. My daddy did that to me my whole life, God love him. David did it while we were married, always over stupid shit. I only hated him more for it.

  “You cannot just come in here and—”

  He cuts me off mid-rant with a quick kiss on my lips and shocks me silent. He puts his hands on each side of me and cages me in against the counter. Leaning his body into mine, he cups my jaw with one of his hands and asks, “Has he ever hit you before, angel? Or has he only ever been verbally abusive?”

  My eyes go wide, and I’m startled by the question. “David has never hit me. Reece, he’s not abusive; he’s just a dick.”

  Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath. “Maci Kate, the way he talked to you was wrong. Talking down to you, making you feel bad about yourself, and calling you names repeatedly is abuse. He’s controlling you through Bennett, and is trying to exert his power wherever he can.”

  I huff. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Reece. He can just be an asshole sometimes.” I step away from the counter and go to walk out of the kitchen, and away from this conversation. As soon as I pass by Reece, he has other ideas, and pulls my back to his front, both his arms circling my chest.

  Leaning his forehead on my shoulder, he lifts his head, skims his nose up my ear, and gently says, “I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t like seeing him talk to you like that. You deserve so much more.”

  I nod my head. He’s right, I do deserve better than David. A tear rolls down my cheek, and I let it go. “I don’t even know why he won’t let me go. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “God, I’m so fucking sorry, Maci Kate.” He pushes me away enough so he can turn me in his arms and pull me into his chest, nuzzling my neck.

  “Why are you sorry, Reece? It isn’t your fault.” I lean into his chest, rubbing my face all over his shirt, and inhale his cologne. God, he smells good—clean and masculine.

  “Oh, it’s my fault, baby. If I hadn’t pushed you away, you wouldn’t have ended up with David, and we’d have been together. Bennett would be mine, not his.”

  Bennett. Fuck, he’s going to try to take Bennett away from me if I try and date someone. This is total bullshit. I wouldn’t pay attention to it, but I know in the end it’s going to hurt Bennett. He doesn’t need that. Plus, David has an uncle who’s a judge in our town, and his daddy is a hotshot lawyer. David might be an asshole, but he does know people who can make things difficult. I push out of Reece’s arms and pace in front of him.

  “Reece, as much as I want this to happen, it can’t. I’m not going to risk losing Bennett. Thank you for today. I’m sorry it has to be this way, but I’m not going to put my son through this.”

  His jaw tenses. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? You are mine, Maci Kate. Mine. I’m not losing you because of him. Do not let him bully you into this. We will figure it out together.”

  I sigh, willing myself not to cry. “No. I will figure it out, Reece.” I say, pointing at my chest. “Bennett is MY son. This is MY life. I will not be putting him through this. He’s been through enough already. For a minute, I thought maybe we could finally be a possibility, but we can’t. I’m sorry. Please leave.”

  Reece walks up to me and pulls me into his chest. “This isn’t right, and I’m not going to let him take you away from me. I’ll give you some time to think about things.” He kisses my forehead, then pushes me away gently. When he gets to the door and opens it, he adds, “He’s not the only one with reach in this town, Maci. Remember that.”

  With that, he walks out the door, and my life. I need to keep my mind on what matters, and that’s Bennet. A family that will not include Reece Atwood, the only man to whom I have ever wanted to give my whole heart.

  Seven

  Reece

  I walk out of Maci’s house, unable to think straight, pissed that her ex has been an abusive asshole towards her. Why can’t she see it for what it is? Abuse. Am I the only one who has seen him treat her this way? Someone should have done something about him by now. She’s not even giving me a chance to make this better. Most of all I’m angry at myself that I’m the one that made her doubt me. If I had had the balls years ago, we wouldn’t be in this situation.

  Yeah, I’m just furious with everything. Opening my black Chevrolet Silverado 3500 lifted truck, I hop in and slam the door. I sit in Maci’s driveway for a minute, trying to clear my head of this morning. If we’d never opened that door, I would still be in there with my woman and Bennett. I can still taste her on my lips, still hear her cries and see her face when she came. Motherfucker!

  Finally, I get my shit together and pull out of her driveway, making the short distance down the road to the stop sign. I punch the steering wheel a few times and end up hitting my Bluetooth call button. It beeps at me, waiting for me to give it someone to call. The only person I want to talk to right now is my girl, and she thinks she’s gotten rid of me. Although I’m going to give her space, she will never be rid of me. The bond that we share is deeper than even I built up in my head. We were always meant to be together.

  My truck beeps at me again, “Call Kingston,” I say. ‘Calling Kingston,’ my Bluetooth chirps at me.

  “This is Kingston,” he says in a gruff tone.

  “Hey man, it’s Atwood.”

  “Atwood, I didn’t even check to see who was calling, brother.” He sighs. “It’s been a long day.”

  I laugh, “Isn’t it always? It’s only two-thirty, Kings. What have you been up to on a Sunday?”

  “It’s this case with the missing woman. Something about it is bothering me. Why would a happy woman leave her husband? It doesn’t make any sense. I’ve been chasing every lead we have. I’ve had Spader here in The Den with me, running leads for hours, but we have zilch.”

  Instead of turning right towards my parents’ house, I turn left towards the compound. “I’m coming in. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  He chuckles darkly. “You want to work on a Sunday? What the hell is wrong with you that you’re willing to come in on your day off? Wait, does this have something to do with your girl? Did you get to see her yesterday?”

  I sigh into the phone, knowing he’ll have something to say about the events from this weekend. “I’ll tell you about it when I get there.”

  “Alright, see you soon. Drive safe, brother.”

  Adam Kingston was the Team Leader of the Special Reaction Team I was on in the Marines. You get close with guys you depend on to cover your ass and make sure you don’t get dead. We were on the SRT for over two years together, along with the rest of the team. Kings had built the team with men he knew he could count on in any situatio
n. We all became a unit, a family of sorts, in a world where family and friends were non-existent. After a particularly hard mission, Kings decided enough was enough, and got out. The rest of the team followed within a few years of each other.

  I was the last. When I did, I was so fucking misplaced. I felt lost, and there was some crazy shit running around in my head. I couldn’t get right, and didn’t know what to do or who to turn to. I was bumming it at my parents’ house for a few months when Kings got hold of me and wanted to meet up to talk. I was still dealing with my demons, so I wasn’t sure if I was ready to meet up with my recent past. Although I owed this man my life, he represented something I wanted to leave back in the sand pits. I couldn’t tell him no, so even though it wasn’t the easiest thing, I met with him. It was the best decision I’d made since getting out.

  ****

  Four years ago

  Lying on my parents’ couch, I watch as the Volunteers beat the Bulldogs. Mildly amused, I lie here mutely, fighting sleep, not wanting to succumb to my dreams. So many nights I have woken up in drenched sheets, sweat covering every inch of me. I picture the bodies lying scattered in the sand, and can hear the screams of the dying. Being home is hard. My family and friends aren’t used to the person I am now, and I’m finding it hard to fit into the mold of the person I once was.

  My dad owns a few car dealerships and is great at it, but before that, he was a Marine. He retired when I was a little kid. Ever since then, I wanted to be just like him. I don’t know what he’s been through; we’ve never talked about it, but I know he’s seen some shit by the vacant looks he would get sometimes, or how his mood would change drastically out of nowhere. My mom doesn’t make me talk about it, but I know she’s hurting because of this, too. If only I knew what to do to make her feel better. The friends I had while in high school and college are all busy with their lives. They’ve invited me out a few times, and every time I’ve gone, it was awkward.

  What I need is to escape. Trying to make peace with my demons on my own isn’t working. Selling cars with my dad and pretending I hadn’t spent four years of my life as a different person wasn’t a solution, either. I should get in my old Chevy and drive. Drive until I can feel something other than pain, rejection, and helplessness. I need to be worth a damn again. The things I am doing at home seem pointless. When you go from being on a Special Ops team to selling cars for your dad, it does something to your psyche.

  Ring, ring, ring.

  I look over at my phone, the phone I have been screening because I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I see a number I don’t recognize, and let it go to voicemail. I’ll check it later and call them back if I need to. When my phone chirps again to let me know I have a text, I groan and pick it up.

  Unknown: Hey, it’s Kingston. I’m in Sweet Briar. Want to meet up?

  Do I want to meet up with someone who understood everything I was going through? Yes. Hell yes, I do. I hesitate to text him back, though. My sergeant, Adam Kingston, had become one of my best friends while we were over there. We shared many a laugh and quite a few hard situations. I also told him about my girl back home. She’s not available anymore—shocker!

  This is a man I admired, someone who could read me better than almost anyone. He would know immediately that coming home was hard. He was probably doing great, getting on with his life, with a great job and all. He had told me to call him when I got home, but I never did. Things were different after getting out. He’s from Georgia, so I wonder what has him out here. He probably knew I wouldn’t call, and he came to kick my ass for being such a dumb fuck and get my ass in line.

  Me: Sure, man. Meet you at Murphy’s Pub. 8 tonight, okay?

  Kingston: Ok. 8 is good.

  When I get to the bar, he is already here, with two beers waiting—he’s a good guy like that. Stopping in front of the table, he looks me over. “Well, you look like shit. Figured you would.”

  Sitting down, I look down at the table, trying to figure out what to say. “Kings, I was going to call. Been busy is all.” Looking up, I hope that is enough, or at least he won’t call me out on my BS.

  Kings has never been the kind of guy that will let you get away with anything. He’s a straight shooter, honest as they come. He expects the same from the people he surrounds himself with.

  “Yeah, you can cut the shit, Atwood. I know it’s hard coming back to civilian life.”

  I sigh and rest my head on my crossed arms on the table. “Fuck, man. Shit’s different here. I don’t feel like myself anymore,” I say quietly, knowing he can hear me. He claps me on my shoulder and squeezes with a silent show of support. I look up and see in his eyes that he has some demons he is still fighting.

  “You know, I tried to deal with it all when I got back. Told myself I didn’t need any help getting back to the real word. I was wrong.”

  I nod, because that’s exactly where I am. “Well, you look like you figured it out.”

  He nods. “I couldn’t sleep at night. Couldn’t work because I was exhausted from not sleeping. My nerves were shot to hell. Freaked out at a grocery store when an old lady had touched me without thinking.”

  “Damn,” is my only reply, because I’ve been there, too.

  “Some guy saw what happened—guess he retired a few years before—and gave me his card. He runs a support group for guys who have gotten out recently.”

  My eyes widen, never thinking someone like Kings would be at a support group. He laughs. “It was funny at first, because of all these guys who don’t talk about their feelings, I had to sit there and do exactly that. You know something, Atwood?” I shake my head, waiting. “It helped.”

  “You trying to tell me to get some help?”

  He shakes his head, and I see in his eyes the acceptance that I’ve been missing; the brotherhood that kept me safe and sane when nothing else did.

  “I’m trying to tell you that if you need it, it’s okay to talk to people who have been where you are. Who are where you are. They would understand better than anyone.”

  I nod once. I’m over this heavy conversation already.

  “Look, I’m not trying to get on your case. I’ve called you a few times because I have a proposition for you,” Kings says. Raising my eyebrows, I signal for him to continue. “I called you first, but you weren’t answering. I got ahold of the rest of the team. Donovan, Spader, Owens…even Cutter and Anderson are game, but I’d like you to be second in command.”

  “What do you have, man? You aren’t in town to bust my balls?”

  He gives me that look, the shut the fuck up and listen to what I have to say look.

  “I want to start a security firm, open it up together with the team. I’ve had a few people who’ve offered serious money for us to go in and extract people from unusual situations. It’s like what we were doing before, but we get to pick the jobs, and get to decide how they’re handled. There are other services we will offer, like personal security, tech services, and putting in systems.”

  I nod and ask, “The whole team wants in?”

  He sits up straighter, smiling, knowing he’s got me. “Yeah, Cutter, Anderson, and Spader were an easy sell, but I had to talk to Owens and Donovan a few times before they agreed. They all want you in, though. Said they want the whole team or it won’t work. I agree.”

  “Kings, man, it sounds good, but where were you thinking of opening this operation? I have roots here. Mac—shit.” Dragging my hands down my face, I take a deep breath.

  “Have you seen your girl, Atwood?”

  Shaking my head, I tell him the news my mom told me about her after I got home. “She’s married, has a baby.”

  He stares at me for a beat. “You think she’s happy?” he asks the same question that’s been running through my mind for months now. I shrug my shoulders.

  Looking around at the people in the bar, I say, “I don’t know. I always thought it was me and her. I know I screwed things up when I left, but I always thought that when I came home, we
would be able to start what has always been between us. Maci is mine, man. She’s everything. So now I can’t have her… Fuck, I don’t know.”

  “Look, I’ve never had that connection with a woman before, but I don’t think that story is finished,” Kingston says, and I nod.

  “Tennessee is a good location to travel from. Anderson and Cutter are from this area as well. We all agreed we want to open up shop here.”

  “Well, alright then. I guess we have some things to figure out.”

  The rest of the night, we discuss the logistics of how we are going to get the firm started. Kings moved to town a few weeks later, and the other guys came soon after. It was good to have them around again. I finally started feeling normal—my version of normal, anyway. We found ten acres of land for sale in the mountains, and got busy planning our compound. We pooled our resources, but most of the backing came from Kingston. He had a trust fund that hadn’t been touched for reasons he never explained. We built Panthera Security and Protection within six months of breaking ground on the property. It was complete with a building, a gun range, tactical course, and a helicopter launch pad. The entire property was surrounded by a high electric fence. It’s a sweet setup that I’m more than proud to call ours.

  ****

  Present day

  Pulling up to the compound, I park in my spot. I jump out of my truck in a better mood than I was in earlier. Feeling useful always does a lot for me. I finally started to heal when my team and I were together again. Through long conversations with guys who have become my family, I figured out that I’m most at ease when my mind is busy working on something.

  Walking into the Den, I spot Kings standing behind Owens, who is exactly where I knew he would be, behind the computer screen. I clap them both on the shoulders. “What do we have, brothers?”

  We spend the rest of the afternoon pouring over as much information we can get our hands on so we can find Mrs. Rebecca O’Malley.