Impossible Choice

by Sybil Bartel

  His hand hit my shoulder. “Stay. Talon’s taking me. Go back to sleep.”

  It felt like a slap in the face. “You don’t want me to go to the airport?” The seed of doubt grew into a mountain.

  “Stay,” was all he said.

  “What’s going on?”

  His hands went to his hips and he glanced down before bringing his gaze back to mine. “Trying something new.”

  “Why?” I didn’t want new. I wanted the Buck who’d swept me off my feet in a dingy apartment building hallway after giving me his real smile for the first time.

  Ignoring my question, he leaned over and left a chaste kiss on my cheek. “Thank you for last night.” He stared for half a second with an unreadable expression, then he turned and walked out.

  I sat there, stunned.

  Talon’s car fired up.

  Thank you?

  My eyes drifted to the dresser. A small black box sat in the corner. Untangling myself from the sheets, I picked it up and opened it.

  I began to shake.

  Even in the predawn light, it sparkled like an engagement ring should.

  I was running to the front door before I could throw clothes on but I was too late.

  Talon’s taillights hit A1A and Buck was gone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I didn’t know when the shock set in. When I walked back into the room and saw what else he’d left behind? When he said thank you for last night? When I opened the box and saw the size of the pear-cut diamond that looked like a tear? I don’t know. But when the crushing feelings of heartbreak and confusion deadened, I knew I should worry, really worry but all I felt was cold.

  I picked up my phone and called him. It went straight to voice mail, no personalized greeting, only a computerized voice stating the number.

  I hung up.

  Because driving back to Miami would take too long, I called a cab. I checked into a hotel on the beach and drank all the alcohol in the mini fridge by noon. I stumbled down to the lobby bar but the bartender looked judgmental so I kept walking. The next bar was like all the other beach bars, a shit place to be on a sun-drenched day.

  I sat down on a stool and began to drink, really drink.

  * * *

  Talon found me as the sun was setting.

  “Been lookin’ for ya, Sugar.” He sat on the stool next to mine.

  I didn’t say shit. I didn’t even look up.

  “You and me, we missed a surfin’ date.”

  I missed a lot of things. Like the part where a man with an engagement ring doesn’t leave it out like trash.

  “Cat got your tongue?”

  I hated cats.

  Talon signaled the bartender. “Close her out, man.”

  The bartender glanced at me like he felt sorry for me. “She’s all set.”

  “You ready, Sugar?”

  I picked my head up and looked at him. He really was handsome. And I was pretty sure he would never leave an engagement ring on a dresser, but then again, he threw me to the wolves yesterday. “Fuck you.”

  “Aw, there’s that sweet voice.” He smiled like Christmas morning.

  “I can make it sweeter,” I said sarcastically.

  He threw his head back and laughed like it was easy. “I’m sure you can, now, c’mon.” He stood and pulled me up.

  Sun, sand, surf and coconuts surrounded me. I wanted to shrug him off but his nonjudgmental comfort was my kryptonite. “Where are we going?”

  “Home.”

  Miami Beach was too far. I needed to sleep. Then I remembered the hotel. “I’ve got a room.”

  “A room?”

  “The hotel.” I couldn’t remember the name. “The tall one, that way.” I pointed.

  “You checked into a hotel?”

  “Yeah.” Hotels didn’t hold memories. They were just nameless, faceless rooms, with alcohol if you were lucky.

  “Damn, Sugar, you’re a mess.”

  I was too tired to take offense. “How’d you find me?”

  “Knew you didn’t get far, you left your ride at my place.”

  “Not my car.”

  “Accordin’ to Deer Hunter, title says differently.”

  “Fuck the car.”

  “A man gives a woman a nice ride, usually she doesn’t fight it.”

  “I don’t need his charity.”

  Talon howled with laughter. “No, you sure don’t. But that’s not why he gave it to you.”

  “I don’t need a car.”

  “You do seem to get around just find without one.”

  I snorted.

  “Wanna know why he gave it to you?” he persisted.

  “No.”

  “He loves you, Sugar.”

  Bullshit. “Loves me enough to leave a ring on the dresser and haul ass off to war?” And the other thing, which I wasn’t mentioning, not even to myself.

  Talon stiffened but he kept walking. “What kind of ring?”

  “The diamond kind.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yeah, ah.”

  “You’re pissed.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?” I snapped, the sudden anger in my voice giving me a headache.

  “Depends. Did you ask him about it?”

  Fuck no, he didn’t get to defend Buck’s shitty actions to me. I shrugged off his arm and lurched away from him. “Go away.”

  “Not in my nature.”

  I needed to get out of Daytona but I was drunk. And tired. And pissed...and sad. And I fucking missed Buck, goddamn him. And I was mad at Talon. For something. “I’m mad at you.” But I couldn’t remember why. Fucking tequila.

  “I know, darlin’. Let’s get you off your feet.” His arm slipped around me again.

  He smelled good. I might’ve leaned into him. “I can walk just fine.”

  “Never said different.”

  “Stop being nice.” I was supposed to be mad. Mad was better than sad.

  “Nothing nice about me.”

  If I wasn’t drunk, I would’ve noticed him glancing over his shoulder, but I didn’t.

  Chapter Nineteen

  My head pounding, my tongue stuck in my dry mouth, I pushed the covers aside and stumbled to the balcony. I needed fresh air right now more than I needed water. I threw the slider open and winced. The glare of the rising sun, the promise of a hot day, my arm covered my eyes and I shuffled to the railing.

  White sands, aqua waters, this was Florida at its finest. I knew it was beautiful but all I felt was broken. Buck was the only thing about me that had been whole and I’d fucked that up. He’d fucked that up. I didn’t even know anymore.

  Resting my arms over the railing, I fought the vertigo and looked down.

  Seventeen stories.

  No one would survive that.

  “Won’t fix anythin’.”

  I didn’t lift my head but I looked over my shoulder. Talon leaned in the open doorway. Bare chest, shorts hanging low, the sunrise washed over his body in golden light. I didn’t even know he was here. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” I turned back to the drop. “Where’d you sleep?”

  He didn’t answer.

  I thought he’d gone back inside but a moment later warm hands circled my waist and pulled. I let go of my grip on the railing because I had no fight left in me. Talon sat back on the lounger and settled me next to him. Wrapping an arm around me, his other hand brushed the hair from my face.

  “I’ve been where you are.” His voice rumbled quietly in his chest.

  I ignored his implication because he was wrong. I wasn’t anywhere. “Go home, Talon.”

  “Now, see, there’s a bad idea. The worst you ever had. ’Cept ma
ybe those mimosas you pounded on an empty stomach last spring.”

  The mimosas had been his idea. “That was your fault.” Talon had taught me to surf then gotten me drunk as hell. That was the day he’d told me he’d been married. It was the only time he’d ever brought it up.

  “Yeah.” I heard the smile in Talon’s voice. “That was a great day.”

  “Who was she?” I suddenly wanted to know about his ex-wife.

  “Who was who, Sugar?”

  “Your wife.”

  He inhaled slowly and I didn’t think he was going to answer. “I’ll make you a deal, Layna.”

  Talon never called me Layna, ever. Weary, I glanced up at him but he was staring at the ocean. “What?”

  Knowing green eyes, heavy with a seriousness I’d rarely seen looked starkly at me. “I’ll tell you why I tried to end my life and you tell me why you’re pushin’ everythin’ away.”

  I began to protest. “I’m not—”

  Talon grabbed my chin and jerked my face up. Anger flashed across his face and his voice turned deadly. “Who do you think you’re lyin’ to?”

  Moisture welled in my eyes. “I don’t know how to do this.” Big, silent tears began to fall.

  No soothing words, no lies, no comfort other than his arm and his presence, Talon didn’t say anything, he just sat with me. When the tears stopped, he began to speak.

  “Her name was Leigh and she’s dead.”

  Jesus. “Talon.”

  “We’d been married less than a year when she woke up one mornin’ and told me it was over. Handed me divorce papers. She didn’t cry, she wouldn’t talk to me, nothin’. She just said she had to go. I fought like mad to keep her but she wouldn’t even engage. She’d already packed her belongin’s the night before and she simply walked out. The last thing she said was if I loved her, I’d let her go.” Talon inhaled.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “She disappeared. I looked for her everywhere but she was just gone, so I signed the papers. Two months later I got a call from a couple in Mexico who owned a few bungalows on the beach they rented out. Leigh had been there the whole time.” Talon paused, the muscles in his arms flexing. “They told me she had cancer, rare form of cervical cancer. It was terminal and quick. That’s why she left me. She knew what was comin’.” He cleared his throat. “I went down to Mexico, collected her remains then flew to Hawaii. I scattered her ashes where she was born, then I tried to kill myself.”

  I turned my head into Talon’s chest and began to sob, for him, for me, for Buck, for Leigh. Talon didn’t try to comfort me. His hands still, his breathing hard, he went on.

  “At some point between Mexico and Hawaii my stupid drunk-ass self called Neil. I don’t remember the call or what I said, but Neil found me in a hotel room in Hawaii. I’d taken pills and had he gotten there an hour later, we wouldn’t be havin’ this conversation.”

  The scene played out in my mind, crushing my heart. But I wasn’t surprised that the one person who could’ve brought Talon back from the edge was Neil. Ex—Danish Special Forces, Neil was the tallest, most formidable, immovable man I’d ever met. “I’m glad Neil was there.” They were stupid words that didn’t begin to touch the gratitude I felt and Talon ignored them anyway.

  “I know this world ain’t easy but I took you for a fighter.”

  “I am a fighter.” I’d been fighting for three years.

  “Bullshit. You’re in a hotel room drinking your life away.” His voice held no mercy.

  “No, I’m—”

  “Do not forget who you’re sittin’ next to,” he warned. “I know exactly what you’re doin’.”

  The air in my lungs turned heavy and suddenly I couldn’t hold the past three months in. “Everything he did for me, everything he gave me, he never asked for anything in return. I didn’t know he wanted something so bad he was afraid to tell me. Buck’s strong and stoic, he doesn’t talk about that shit. But he did want something. One thing. And I couldn’t even give him that. So he left and I couldn’t blame him but then he pulls that shit yesterday and I can’t even say goodbye? And he leaves a goddamn ring on the dresser like it’s nothing? A thank-you for the fuck and a kiss on the cheek like I’m something bought and paid for?”

  Talon frowned.

  “But the best part? He left his fucking letter, his goodbye letter. The I’m-dead-and-gone-and-you-all-can-move-on-without-me letter. Except it’s torn in half like I’m shit. Who does that? Who fucking does that? I get it, he saved me and I owe him everything, but I can’t even live one single day without looking over my shoulder, wondering when the shit’s gonna hit the fan because I don’t know how to do normal. I’m not normal.” I sucked in a breath. “And that’s not something to come home to.”

  “You think he didn’t have somethin’ to come home to?” Talon was incredulous. “A beautiful woman in a killer house, in one of the best places on earth, just waitin’ for his sorry ass, and you think you didn’t give enough? What the fuck?”

  “I didn’t give enough.” If I had, I’d be wearing that stupid ring.

  “You are wrong,” Talon fumed, enunciating each word.

  But I was right. I knew I was right. “I told you what happened before he got injured.” The thousand-pound weight I’d been carrying came bleeding out. “I told you I asked him when he was going to quit the marines. I wanted him to give up his whole career because I was insecure.” The truth of that day and all of its ugliness came out. “That was hours before he got hit. Hours, Talon. That was what he was thinking about. That was why his head wasn’t in the game. That’s why he made that mistake. Me. My words. Buck almost got killed because I did that to him. I distracted him, it was my fault.”

  “Jesus Christ, Sugar.” Talon ran his hand over his face.

  I pushed off the lounger and stood. “I’m a shitty, selfish person.” My fist pounded on my chest.

  “You didn’t plant that IED.” Talon’s green eyes were so full of understanding, I only broke further.

  “Don’t you look at me like that, don’t you dare. I don’t deserve your sympathy. You should’ve let me drown and you and Buck would’ve both been better off.”

  Talon was on his feet and in my face in a flash. “You think you’re so fuckin’ smart you know what life should and shouldn’t be? I’ll tell you what should be. All the good people should fuckin’ live but they don’t.” Talon glared at me with sobering rage. “They die and so does everybody else. We all got a shelf life and it ain’t for you to decide when your time’s up. You’re here now, the only question is whether you’re gonna waste it feelin’ sorry for yourself or make it count.” Talon stared at me for one heartbeat, then turned toward the slider. Right before the door he met my eyes.

  “Blaze is a great fuckin’ warrior. I love him like a brother. But don’t think for one second he’s innocent in all this. He took you for himself knowin’ what you came from. You think that was fair? Askin’ you to wait for him to come home, if he came home? You were never free—and that wasn’t the plan.”

  I glanced at the railing and the ocean beyond. “Doesn’t matter now.” Buck was gone.

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  I wanted Buck so bad I couldn’t breathe but I was lost when I was around him and killing myself with guilt when I wasn’t. That wasn’t freedom. “It means I’m lost.”

  Talon strode forward and gripped my chin. “What kind of lost?” he asked angrily.

  I spent three years losing myself and not enough before that finding out who I was. I couldn’t lose myself anymore in Buck or Talon or the lives they led. “I’m done fighting.”

  * * *

  I didn’t remember leaving the hotel. All I remembered was Talon throwing the Infiniti’s keys on the nightstand as he walked out.

  I was dangerously spirali
ng into an abyss of self-pity and I couldn’t let it happen. I needed movement. I needed to purge. Buck, Talon, my old life, all of it. I’d started new before, I could do it again.

  But every mile I drove closer to Miami Beach the more it felt like an impossibility. I could run. I could hide. I could change my name again but I would still have my memories and a foreign bank account with millions in stolen money.

  Still in the same dress, no underwear, I walked into my house and straight to the tequila.

  Day turned to night. Night turned to day.

  I drank.

  I cried.

  Life passed me by.

  * * *

  I didn’t know how many days passed but I woke up on my couch and I was out of tequila. Dizzy, nauseous, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. I threw on shorts and a tank top and headed for the front door.

  The sun hit my face and I stumbled backward. Reaching in my bag for my sunglasses, my hand wrapped around my wallet and memories hit like a freight train. The same wallet Buck had dumped out of my purse onto the floor in an apartment in Gainesville.

  Then I fingered a small velvet box. I jerked like I’d been burned and paper brushed across the back of my hand. I pulled my sunglasses out and shoved them on but I didn’t make it to the store.

  In a car that never should’ve been mine with a ring that I wasn’t supposed to wear and a torn letter I couldn’t bring myself to read, I impulsively checked the Infiniti’s glove box for proof of what Buck had said, then I pulled into a used car lot. Dead weight was weighing me down. I needed to purge.

  A salesman was on me in half a heartbeat. “Good morning. Can I help you with something today?”

  I glanced around. “Give me two minutes.” I locked the Infiniti and took a quick walk through the lot. When I stopped at an almost new Tahoe and turned around, the seedy salesman, sweating in his shirt and tie, was right there.

  “This is a great buy. I just got it in, low miles, clean, it’s going to go fast. Want to test-drive it?”

  The eager prick, I hated him for no reason. “Year? Miles?”

  “It’s two years old, has nineteen thousand miles and all the bells and whistles.” He opened the front door for me.