by April Hunt
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was over. Finally. After weeks of lying low, Elle could finally move on to the next phase of her life—do what she wanted, go where she wanted. Before leaving the hospital, Shay had pulled her aside and told her about another assignment from Caring Hands, this one in South America, helping earthquake victims. The spot on the team was hers—if she wanted it.
Too bad she had no idea what she wanted anymore.
As much ridiculousness as James and her father had spewed, they’d had a point. Not all men were interested in damaged goods. Even the good guys like Trey could claim indifference and mean it in the beginning. But then time would pass, and things and circumstances would change—including the hopes for the future.
It was late—or early morning, technically—and they’d all just stepped into the bar level of Alpha. Elle wasn’t stupid. She knew she couldn’t avoid Trey forever, but before they had their long overdue talk, she needed to figure out what she was going to do…how she felt…what she wanted.
“You look like a girl who needs to shoot things.” Charlie’s voice shimmied its way into Elle’s thoughts.
“Yeah, I think I do,” Elle answered.
“Then let’s go.” The blonde operative led the way toward the elevator that took them to the Hole’s bottom level.
The second they entered the shooting range, Charlie hopped over the counter and stalked toward the other side of the range. She dragged a box over from the corner and started setting up a long line of canned goods.
“Are those—”
“Vegetables that have no bloody business being in a can,” Charlie answered. She came back and started pulling weapons out from the locked cabinet against the wall. “Paper targets are only so therapeutic. Sometimes you need to see stuff actually fly.”
It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t also true.
They fell into a rhythm; aiming, shooting, and in Elle’s case, narrowly missing. Neither of them had attempted to open a line of communication beyond a change in grip or line of sight. Elle lost track of time.
With a semi-automatic clutched in her hand, she fired off another shot and missed the row of tin cans by a good three feet. Again. “At least I got closer that time.”
“Yeah, those green beans can start quaking in their tin,” Charlie deadpanned. At Elle’s glare, the other woman simply shrugged. “Don’t blame me for your sudden inability to hit a bloody semi. If you want to keep up your skills and even learn new things, you need to practice. When was the last time you picked up a gun?”
When she didn’t answer, Charlie nodded. “Yeah, I thought so.”
Elle narrowed her eyes and gave the trigger another squeeze. This time, one of the tin cans moved…not the one she’d been aiming for, but still. “I did it!”
“Yeah, you nudged the big bad legumes.” Charlie lifted her Glock and fired. The can exploded, spraying beans and vegetable juice everywhere.
“You’re such a freaking show-off.”
Charlie returned her smirk with one of her own. “Practice for a few more days, and you may eventually nudge one off the perch.”
Despite the fact that she’d yet to knock down any targets, this was the best form of stress relief a girl could participate in—besides sex, Elle thought, grinning. “Your level of encouragement astounds me. I think you missed your calling as an elementary school teacher.”
“Kids barely out of training pants?” Charlie shivered as if the idea was more frightening than a crazed clown on a murder spree. “No, thank you. Send them to me when they hit puberty. Actually, strike that—too many bloody hormones.”
“College-aged?” Elle teased.
Charlie unclipped the magazine from her gun. “Too head-in-the-sky, we-can-make-the-world-a-better-place. All that hopeful perkiness makes me queasy.”
“Twenties?”
“Maybe. Sure. Twenties—mid. Or late. But scratch the males off the list. Actually, on second thought, only send the women once they hit thirty.”
“I’m thirty.” Elle couldn’t help but chuckle.
“See. That’s why we get along so famously. So how’s target therapy going?”
“Working wonders,” she said, telling the truth.
“Good. Then I’m going to put this here.” Charlie took the gun from her hands and, after removing the clip, set it on the countertop. “And I’m going to ask you when you’re going to pull your head out of your tiny—though cute—little arse.”
“Excuse me?” The abruptness of the topic-change nearly gave Elle whiplash.
“Your ears work fine, love. You’re in love with Trey.”
Elle opened her mouth to protest—and couldn’t. She hadn’t wanted it to happen. She’d tried nearly everything in her power to make sure it didn’t. But he’d made it impossible.
She loved him—was in love. So hard. So deep. He’d shown her countless times that letting someone into your heart didn’t make you vulnerable. It made you stronger.
It hadn’t been his physical presence at her side that had pushed her to confront her father once and for all. It had been his support—his belief that she’d see her own strength and handle not only her father and James, but the entire messed-up situation.
What woman wouldn’t fall in love with a man like Trey?
“Was that meant to be a question? Because it wasn’t one.” Elle hesitantly locked eyes with Charlie.
“You want something in question form? Fine. If you’re in love with the man, then why are we waiting for someone from a rental company to drop off a car so you can drive the hell away?”
Elle had asked herself the same question for the last few hours, and the answer was always the same. Because she loved Trey enough to do the right thing for them both—even if it meant saying good-bye.
Someone clearing their throat turned both Elle and Charlie’s attention to the door.
“Sorry to interrupt, darlins,” Logan apologized, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable, “but your rental’s here, Elle.”
A rush of emotions made Elle’s eyes swell with sudden moisture. “I guess that means I should go get my things.”
Elle took her time grabbing the bag that held her meager belongings and then headed topside with Logan and Charlie. Everyone was already there, sitting in various locations around the bar.
“I can’t believe you’re going.” Penny rushed over and pulled her into a hug. “You better make sure you keep in touch, okay? No disappearing to far-off countries without a little heads-up. Do you have any idea what you’re going to do now?”
“I’m going back to New York, to Shay’s, and then I think we’re taking the assignment in Chile.”
“You be careful,” Penny warned.
And then the train of good-byes came, one after another. Logan’s fierce hug didn’t surprise her, but getting a quick but affectionate pat from Vince had shocked her so still that everyone else laughed.
Stone approached last, his arms wrapping her in a firm hug. “You better take care, okay?”
“Thank you, Stone.” Elle dropped a kiss on the Alpha boss’s cheek.
“There’s nothing to thank me for, hon.” He gave her shoulder a faint squeeze. “You’re Alpha family now. You better not be a stranger.”
The sentiment warmed her insides. Eventually she’d run out of good-byes—except for one. At that point everyone had left, giving her and Trey the entire room to themselves.
Nails would’ve been easier to swallow than the lump in her throat. Her mouth opened to say something. Anything. But nothing came out.
Trey gently tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. At the soft touch, her eyes closed. God, she loved it when he did that—simple caresses that made her feel treasured and protected…and like a complete and total fraud.
“So this is it?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. “You’re going to leave without us having a chance to talk about what happened at the hospital?”
Their time together had showed her that unrestricted fre
edom really was possible with the right person, but it also reminded her that the situation itself needed to be right—and hers was far from ideal.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this conversation,” she admitted, hesitantly meeting his gaze.
“Are you ever going to be?” It wasn’t asked in an accusatory tone. It was a simple, honest question.
“No. I guess not. But talking about it isn’t going to change anything.”
“Maybe not the circumstances, no. But it could change how we react to it.”
Elle needed some kind of distance to think. Even though it physically pained her to move from his warmth, she stepped away and braced her lower back against the bar top.
Trey stayed in the same spot. Waiting. Watching. Looking like he would close the distance between them any second. And despite the thunderous pounding in her chest, she wanted him to cross it, wrap his arms around her, and make the ache go away.
But this conversation wasn’t about what she wanted or wished for. It was about accepting her future and not forcing it on another person…on Trey.
“I can’t give you a family.” Elle ignored the flare of pain in her chest and kept going. “I can’t give anyone a family. James and my father may be the severest form of asshole, but they weren’t lying about that.”
Trey didn’t say a word. He stood there in silence, his hands hanging at his sides.
“That accident I told you about caused a lot of internal bleeding. They had to remove one of my ovaries entirely, and the one they left behind was so severely damaged that ‘miracle’ was the term the doctor used to describe my chances of ever getting pregnant.”
“And that was your reasoning behind the no-strings sex?” Trey’s voice sounded like he’d swallowed a jar of nails. “You think I’d somehow have a problem with your medical condition?”
She offered him a wan smile. “My reasons for no strings were exactly what I told you before. I didn’t want to run the chance of giving someone control over my life—again. This…this is something different—completely separate. It’s not just about me…it’s about you and me.”
And that was the truth. She’d accepted her medical condition ten months ago and made peace with her new lease on life before leaving for Thailand. But once she’d met him, she allowed herself to start dreaming about those unattainable dreams again.
He didn’t look like he believed her.
“I can’t fill all those empty rooms in your new house, Trey.” Tears dropped onto Elle’s cheeks. “I was heartbroken when the doctor told me my chances of ever carrying a baby were slim to none, but I dealt with it. I accepted it. But I also learned pretty quickly that not everyone could.”
“You mean your ex,” Trey said through clenched teeth. At her faint nod, he added, “You’re seriously going to stand there and compare me to that rat fucking bastard? Haven’t I proven a dozen times over that I’m nothing like him?”
“I know you’re nothing like him,” Elle cried.
“Then why are you standing there still trying to push me away?” He stepped closer and hovered over her. His eyes locked on her with an intensity that made it difficult for her to breathe. “I would never hurt you, sweetness. Not in a million fucking years. I want you; not an ideal, not someone else’s version of the perfect future. Just you.”
Elle couldn’t stop the tears now. As fast as she swatted them away, more came. “You say that now—and I know you mean it. I do. But that could change, Trey. People change as time goes by. James might not have hurt me by treating me the way he did—but you? I don’t know if I could look into your eyes years down the road and handle seeing disappointment—or worse, resentment.”
Elle held his hot, furious, and surprisingly level gaze.
“So that’s it?” he demanded. “You’re going to let some half-assed fear dictate your life? That sounds an awful lot like giving up—or hiding out. The Elle I’ve had in my bed since Thailand isn’t the hiding-out type.”
“Maybe she was an apparition.”
Trey shook his head. “No. Because I see her staring back at me. Right now. You’re just too afraid to let her back out, and all that’s doing is hurting you…us. And you’re doing it now, not years from now in some twisted version of the future that you’re picturing in your head.”
“And what do you expect me to do about it?” Elle raised her voice in challenge. “Cross my fingers and hope for the best?”
“When you care for someone, that’s exactly what you do. But I could stand here and say all the right things and it’s not going to make a damn bit of difference, is it? Nothing’s going to change unless you’re not only willing to listen, but to take a chance.” Trey stepped back, and with an angry flourish, gestured to the door. “So don’t let me keep you. Go do what you need to do. Go to Chile or Thailand. Hell, go to Tim-buk-fucking-tu. But we both know that if you choose to go instead of staying here—with me—that you’re not so much living your life as you are running from it.”
He was right. Despite her best efforts to do what she wanted, she was still letting fear hold her happiness hostage. Elle headed toward the exit and stopped just inside the door.
“Thank you, Trey,” she said, keeping her back to him, unable to look him in the eye. “For everything. It really does mean a lot to me.”
Tears poured down her cheeks with each step she took toward the rental sedan. By the time she slid into the driver’s seat, she could barely see basic shapes, much less fine details.
If running meant avoiding heartbreak—both his and hers—she didn’t understand why it felt like her heart had already been ground into a fine powder.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Trey watched Elle get into the car. He watched the tears stream down her face too fast for her to wipe them away, and then he watched her pull out of the lot—and out of his life. In his arms one second, gone the next. And not only had he let it happen, he’d practically opened the door and spread out the red fucking carpet.
After everything they’d been through and everything he’d shown her, hearing the lack of trust and hope in her voice had felt like a wild animal ripping its way through his chest cavity. It still gnawed at him, the hole growing bigger each second. If he didn’t do something to stanch it soon, he’d fucking bleed out right there in the middle of the bar.
Trey grabbed a bottle of Jack from behind the counter and hurled it against the wall. Alcohol and shattered glass flew in every direction.
“What the fuck, man?” Vince appeared in the doorway, his SEAL-trained eyes soaking up the mess.
“I’ll clean it later,” Trey growled.
“Not what I was fucking talking about.” Vince leaned an elbow against the counter. “I meant why the fuck did you tell her to go?”
“Why would I want her to stay? So I can hear her compare me to that shitty ex of hers again and basically predict that I’m going to break her heart?”
“I heard no such thing,” Vince said, calmly.
“Then you weren’t fucking listening.”
“Were you?” Vince’s eyebrows lifted in challenge. “Because what I heard was a woman afraid that she wouldn’t be able to give the man she loves everything she thinks he deserves.”
“Did you have your ear pushed to the damn door?” Trey propped his hands on the bar top and forced himself to take a slow breath.
“I didn’t have to, with the way the two of you were shouting at each other toward the end. Look, man. Yeah, you were a raging idiot—and I mean a fucking massive one. And Elle’s way of thinking is a little messed in the head, too, but think about where she came from. Her dad’s the fucking Picasso of Pricks and that ex is a fucking Rembrandt or some shit. Can’t blame a girl for being skittish. But I can blame you for walking the fuck away.”
“I’m not discussing relationships with someone whose longest and most serious one was with the five men in his SEAL team.”
Vince grabbed two pool cues and tossed one toward Trey’s head. “You rack. I bre
ak.”
Trey caught the stick. “You want to play pool? Now? You fucking suck.”
“For every ball I sink, you have to answer a question—truthfully and aloud—with no fucking bullshit. Now stop the goddamned whining and start racking.”
It took thirty seconds and four sunk balls for Trey to realize he’d been set up. He glared at his friend. “You’ve been fucking playing us this entire time.”
Vince’s lips twitched. “I like to keep everyone on their toes. I believe I earned myself four questions.”
“You’re serious.”
“Damn straight I’m fucking serious.” Vince propped his hands on the table. “Why the hell are you standing here with me when you should be chasing Elle down and telling her that you’re in love with her?”
“I already did. It didn’t matter. She was too focused on what-ifs that wouldn’t even happen.”
“Did you really?” Vince waited, giving his question time to soak in. “At what point did you tell her that you’re in love with her?”
“I told her that I cared about her, that I wanted her.”
“Caring, wanting, and loving are three completely different things, my friend.”
Vince was too goddamned observant. Trey, suddenly feeling like he hadn’t slept in a week, dragged his hand over his face. “Goddamn. You had four fucking questions and you start off with the hardest one?”
Vince didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “No point in wasting precious time when we both know the real deal. I’m also going to assume you know you were a moron. That way, we can skip straight to finding out how you’re going to fix the hole you dug for yourself.”
“Fuck. You’re right.”
Vince looked at him like he was stupid. And Trey was. He wasn’t at risk for falling in love with Elle. He wasn’t in the process, or ready to stumble. He’d already fallen, smacked his head on a boulder, and was drowning in a rushing river, his head barely above water.
He was in love with her…
Fucking-A. He was a moron.
He needed to fix it. He needed to fix them. He needed to prove to her that he’d do anything to make sure she knew how much she was and would be loved every second of the day, present and future. Children or not. He needed to make sure she knew that the only thing that was a non-negotiable need in his life, was her.
