I Need a Hero

by Gary, Codi

  Grabbing her glasses off of her nightstand, she finally got to her feet and padded to the bathroom, unpleasant flashes of last night assaulted her. The most haunting of which was the expression on Oliver’s face when she’d basically told him that she didn’t want him. For such a big, hard guy, he’d looked so sad, so lost. She’d sat in her car for a while, debating whether she should get out and apologize or get the hell out of there. In the end, she’d driven home and regretted every mile, every minute that put distance between her and Oliver.

  But what was she supposed to do? Put aside her principles because she liked him? What happened when it all went to hell and she was looking back, thinking to herself, I knew I shouldn’t have done that?

  The shrill blare of “Mamma Mia” exploded from her bedroom, and she stumbled out of the bathroom to answer her cell.

  “Hey, Mom,” she said.

  “Hello, Sweetie, you sound terrible. Are you sick?” her mother asked.

  “Nope, just hungover,” Eve said.

  “Oh, well in that case, take a shower and come meet me for lunch.”

  The thought of food sent her stomach into a churning ball of protest. “I’m not really hungry.”

  “You will be, and besides, we haven’t had a mother-daughter day in a while, and I want a chance to catch up. It’s hard being an empty nester.”

  The guilt trip worked like a charm. “Okay, where do you want to meet?”

  OLIVER SAT IN the general’s office, admiring his framed metals and pictures, but there was one on his desk that made him sit forward. Picking up the old wooden frame, Oliver smiled at a younger version of the general dancing with a little girl with black curls and a red flowing dress.

  “Have you ever heard the phrase ‘look but don’t touch’?” a deep voice said behind him.

  Oliver set the picture back on the general’s desk and stood up, saluting him. “I apologize, sir.”

  “At ease.” General Reynolds was in good physical shape for his age, and despite being several inches shorter than Oliver, he was still an imposing figure. The general sat down and waved his hand to the chair behind Oliver, indicating he should sit, too. “What is it I can do for you, Sergeant Martinez?”

  Oliver sat and ran his hands over his legs nervously, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. “I wanted to talk to you about staying on at Alpha Dog, sir. I’ve enjoyed my time there and would like to continue, instead of returning to my unit.”

  “I see,” the general said. “And have you also enjoyed working with my daughter, Sergeant Martinez?”

  What does Eve have to do with this? Oliver didn’t know what Eve had told him, but he treaded lightly. “I have, sir. She is a wonderful woman, and you should be proud of her, but she has nothing to do with my decision to stay on. I enjoy working with the kids and the dogs and feel like I can make a difference there. And they have a spot for me.”

  “You say that she has nothing to do with your decision to stay on, but I find that hard to believe. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way she talks about you.”

  She talks about me with her family? Oliver smothered his excitement as the general added, “And I am proud of her, most definitely. I am also very protective of her and do not want to see her hurt.”

  “That’s the last thing I want as well, sir.”

  “Then you understand why I’m denying your request and transferring you back to active MP rotation first thing Tuesday morning. That should give you a long weekend to readjust.”

  The general’s blunt announcement took him completely by surprise. “Sir, do you really think that putting me back in rotation will keep me away from her?”

  “I know my daughter, Sergeant Martinez. Right now, you’re accessible, but that will change,” the general said. “Evelyn has never been shy about her opinions and desires for what she wants out of life, and I can guarantee you that you are not her future.”

  “You don’t know that,” Oliver said, forgetting himself and who he was talking to.

  The general ignored his outburst, though. “It’s my fault, really. I let my emotions get the better of me and wanted to teach you a lesson. Instead, I put my daughter in a position of vulnerability, and you took full advantage. I am willing to overlook your infraction and put you back where you belong, no harm, no foul.”

  “I never took advantage of Evelyn. What is between us has nothing to do with you and everything to do with her amazing spirit. I’m not giving up on her.”

  “Son, my daughter has plans for her life that do not include you. Whatever you think you feel for Eve, if you really cared, you’d let her go.” The general’s tone wasn’t condescending or hostile; in fact, he sounded a little sad. “Men like you and I live our jobs. If I give you this position, you might be satisfied for a month or so, but then you’re going to get antsy, and the urge for more is going to get stronger. You want to climb the ladder—I’ve read your file—and that requires long hours and a lot of sacrifice. And I don’t want that for my daughter.”

  “You know her,” Oliver said. “How could you put us together and never imagine I would fall for her?”

  Oliver couldn’t even believe he was saying this, but he felt every word in his gut and knew it was true. He was willing to fight for Eve. She was worth it.

  “Honestly?” A sheepish grin broke under the general’s salt and pepper mustache. “I thought she’d run you off the first day.”

  “She tried, but I’m stubborn. I don’t give up easily, and if I have to, I can go over your head, sir,” Oliver said.

  His words wiped the smile from the general’s face. “And I could have you transferred to another base, and then this conversation would be moot.” The general stood up and said, “I’m giving you an out, Sergeant Martinez. I expect you to take it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to be somewhere.”

  The dismissive certainty in the general’s order filled Oliver with impotent rage, as if it had never crossed the general’s mind that Oliver would really go against him. Oliver exited the office, frustration vibrating through his muscles.

  But it wasn’t just that the general didn’t believe that he’d fight for Eve. What if he was right that Oliver would just end up as one of Eve’s regrets?

  Damn it, he wasn’t this guy, ruled by what-ifs and insecurities. He jumped in and went after what he wanted, yet here he was, debating and hee-hawing like an asshole.

  He wanted to punch something, bust his fist through something hard and fleshy.

  As he crossed the base back to his car, Tate and Andy, the man who had hurt Eve all those years ago, were coming out of one of the buildings. Tate waved, and although Oliver tried to ignore them, they intercepted him.

  “Hey, Martinez, when you coming back for good?” Tate asked.

  “Next week, apparently.”

  “That’s great!” Tate slapped Oliver on the shoulder and lowered his voice, “Hey, man, I gotta ask . . . What was it like to do Reynolds’s daughter? Because Andy here, he never got farther than second base, and I’m just thinking—”

  Oliver didn’t even remember attacking Tate. It was like a cloud of black and red swirled around him as he took the other man to the ground and threw a fist that shattered the bones and tissue under his knuckles. Oliver was oblivious to Tate’s groan and the sound of gurgling, even Andy’s faint shouts and arms grabbing at him, trying to drag him off. Oliver reached behind him, catching Andy was by the waist, and tossed him over his shoulder.

  Finally, Oliver was slammed to the ground, pinned by Andy’s heavy weight. As Andy jerked his arms behind his back, he felt a flash of stinging pain and realized Tate was kicking him in the ribs. The cloud evaporated, and Oliver grunted as another kick caught him in the midsection before he was pulled to his feet.

  “Stupid asshole.” Tate spat at him, his face covered in blood and his nose bent and swollen. “You are fucking screwed.”

  Just as Tate looked like he was going to make a move again, Andy snapped, “Just leave it, Tate. The last
thing we need is the general getting involved and asking questions. Something tells me Oliver here won’t mind repeating everything you said about his darling Eve.”

  Oliver glowered at Tate as he wiped off his face and gave Oliver a feral smile. “Man, Martinez, if she’s that good of a piece of ass, I might just try her out myself.”

  “You’re not her type, Tate. She doesn’t go for pussies.”

  Tate’s fist swung, and Oliver heard a cracking sound as it met his cheek. And then everything went black.

  EVE SAT ACROSS from her mother, squinting her eyes at the menu. “Did we have to sit outside? The sun is hurting my eyes.”

  Her mother looked up from stirring her coffee, her green eyes worried. Eve had inherited her eyes, nose, and mouth, but the rest of her genetic makeup came from her father’s side of the family. She wished sometimes that she’d been more of the natural beauty her mother was, but life was too short for comparisons. She did hope she got her mother’s youthful skin as she aged. Although she was in her late fifties, her mother looked much younger.

  “You poor baby, did you take any Tylenol? I don’t know how many times I’ve warned you about having more than one glass of wine before bed.”

  Eve shot her mother a glare. “Sympathy and an I-told-you-so in one sentence? Congratulations, Mom, your attempt to make me feel better has failed.”

  “Are you going to tell me what brought on this late-night bender?”

  Eve debated on confiding in her about Oliver, but considering her mother had been the one to sway her away from military men in the first place, Eve doubted she would feel much sympathy.

  “I just had a rough couple of weeks, that’s all,” she said.

  “Is it this charity event your father asked you to organize? I told him that you’re serious about this PR company and don’t need the extra stress of pro bono work when you’re just starting out. Really, you should be getting paid for everything you’re doing for them.”

  “No, it’s been fine and a great way to get my name out there. I just . . . ”

  Ah, to hell with it. She needed to talk to someone. “Mom, I know you didn’t want me joining or marrying into the military, but have you honestly ever regretted marrying Dad?”

  Her mother paused with the coffee cup at her lips, then took a sip, as if considering what she was going to say. “No, Evie, I’ve never regretted marrying your father or the life we built. And it’s not that I don’t want you marrying into the military, that’s more your father. I just saw the way that boy hurt you, and I honestly thought you were too young to get serious with anyone. Especially men in the military, who grow up fast and hard.” She set her coffee down and asked, “Is there someone in particular you’re interested in?”

  “Yes, but I’m pretty sure I blew it by telling him I don’t go for guys in uniform,” she said.

  “Who is he? Do I know him?”

  Eve hesitated. “Not . . . really.” When her mother raised her eyebrows expectantly, Eve sighed. “His name is Oliver Martinez. He’s been working on the charity event with me.”

  “Martinez. Why do I know that name?”

  “He was the soldier who got into a fight with Hank the night he was arrested,” Eve offered.

  “Oh, dear.” Her mother covered her mouth, and Eve thought it was in horror at first, but then she heard a snort escape.

  “Are you laughing?”

  Her mother exploded into a fit of giggles, wiping at her eyes when they teared. “Of course you would be interested in the one man your father and brother despise.”

  “To be fair, Oliver said Hank was drunk and getting handsy with some girls. When Oliver told him to stop, Hank threw the first punch.”

  “And that may be so, but it doesn’t change the fact that you two are going to have a battle on your hands with your father,” her mother said.

  “But not with you?” Eve asked.

  “Not as long as he’s good to you.”

  “I think he would be, but it’s hard to tell since we’ve never really gotten that far. I mean, we’ve hung out and kissed, but it hasn’t exactly been a normal courtship.”

  Her mother patted her hand and smiled. “Normal is boring. At least now you’ll have a real story to tell my future grandchildren.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Mother. I’d like to get through at least one date with the man before you have me barefoot and pregnant.”

  Chapter Ten

  ON THE DAY of the charity event, everything was running smoothly as Eve left the gym where the educational demonstrations would be held. The military and police dog trainers would be up first to explain the process of training the dogs and even do a takedown demonstration. After they finished, search and rescue would do a mock rescue. There would be an hour-long break for lunch, and then the therapy dogs would complete the demonstrations.

  The Rio Linda High School campus had turned out to be the perfect venue for the event. All the vendors were in place in the football field, wristbands were being purchased in the Quad, and she’d hired extra security, just in case. The dogs in training were all wearing their new Alpha Dog outfits, and they looked even better than Eve had hoped. The number of people who had turned out already was incredible.

  The auditorium was being readied for the auction, and the adoptable dogs were being groomed just behind the large building. It was all going according to plan.

  But there was one thing missing, and it had Eve ready to pull her hair out.

  Oliver.

  She hadn’t seen or heard from him in two days, and she was worried. She’d even called his cell phone, but it had gone straight to voicemail.

  Eve caught sight of Best working with one of the dogs outside the gym and asked, “Have you seen Oliver? I can’t find him anywhere.”

  “Yeah, I saw him a few minutes ago,” Best said. “I think he was taking Beast over to get fitted for an Alpha Dog shirt.”

  “Thanks.” She headed toward the open classroom the school had offered for them to store things. She hated that Oliver was avoiding her, but she couldn’t really blame him after what she’d said at his place. She needed to apologize and make things right with him.

  But she had to find him first.

  “Hey, Eve, we got a problem!” someone called out.

  Ah, hell, and everything was going so well.

  Eve turned, pushing up her glasses as they slid down her nose, and found Sergeant Sparks coming toward her. “What’s up?”

  “One of our trainers was involved in a car accident and can’t make it,” he said grimly.

  “Which one?” she asked. “Are they okay?”

  “It’s Rivers, and yeah, she’s okay, but her car is mangled.”

  Double shit. Rivers was an attractive blonde woman scheduled to lead out the third dog during the auction.

  “Okay, we just need someone to fill in. Someone who has experience with dogs . . . ” She racked her brain, willing herself not to panic.

  “Maybe we can just have one of the trainers double up with a second dog,” Sergeant Sparks suggested.

  Eve hated that idea but didn’t say it. They could probably scrounge up another male trainer, but there were so few female members of the Alpha Dog program . . .

  “Megan!” Eve hadn’t meant to shout, but she was just too excited. She’d asked Megan to come along and help, so she was here somewhere. She had MP training and had done guide-dog training in 4H.

  “Megan who?” Sparks asked.

  “Never mind, I’ve got it covered.” Oliver would have to wait a minute or two until she talked to Megan.

  Near the vendor tents, she found Megan grabbing a deep-fried Twinkie.

  “I need you,” Eve said, panting.

  “Aw, I know. That’s why I stick around,” Megan said.

  “I need you to stand in for a trainer who can’t be here,” Eve said.

  “Ha-ha, you’re funny,” she said.

  “Come on, you have the experience. You can smile, charm them, an
d show a couple basic behavior tips. Just go home and get your uniform.”

  “Girl, I am not—”

  “Do you remember the time that I picked you up from that bar in Bakersfield you weren’t supposed to be at when your car wouldn’t start and you didn’t want to call your parents?” Eve asked.

  “Oh come on, that was nine years ago!” Megan said.

  “And it’s time to pay the piper, baby,” Eve said.

  Megan bit into her Twinkie aggressively and mumbled, “You are an evil wench.”

  “Yes, and you love me for it. Now hurry up! I need you back here in”—Eve checked her phone—“an hour and a half.”

  Megan threw her container away and stomped off, but Eve wasn’t worried about her friend staying mad at her.

  And now, to find Oliver.

  “WILL YOU HOLD still?” Oliver griped at Beast, who looked a lot like the dog version of Frankenstein. The veterinarian had stitched up several large lacerations on his head and neck, but the shaved skin and wounds still looked gnarly. Oliver had picked up a doggie turtleneck at PetSmart per the vet’s suggestion as an extra barrier in case he tried to scratch at the stitches on his neck. The trouble was getting it on Beast, who, after two days of pain meds and antibiotics in hotdogs, had become a spoiled brat. And he hated the shirt.

  “Dude, at least its green camo. I could have gotten the pink one, so count your blessings,” Oliver said. They had just picked up Beast’s Alpha Dog jacket, but the turtleneck had to go on first or he was afraid the strap would irritate Beast’s neck.

  Since Oliver couldn’t leave Beast on his own, he’d been switched from the auction to selling raffle tickets. It wasn’t such a bad deal, especially since it gave Beast a job, and he wouldn’t have to spend an hour trying to make small talk with a stranger on how to make a dog sit. Wandering around the event also gave him the best opportunity to take pictures and videos to share online, since according to the very curt text message from Eve, he was still her right-hand man.

  At least the job would keep him from obsessing over wanting more.