The Hard To Love series

by T A. McKay

  “Shit! Your boyfriend’s really fucking hot, okay! I see the attraction, that’s all. When he was dancing I honestly couldn’t take my eyes off him, and when he stripped, I swear I tried not to look but I did! And I know it makes me like the worst friend in the whole world, but fuck, Trey. Roman is fucking hot!”

  I can’t help the laughter that bursts from me. It’s not the reaction I would have ever imagined at this sort of confession from him, but that’s what he got.

  “This is the weirdest fucking conversation I've ever had with you, Nathan.”

  I hear his laughter, but there is also a touch of worry in it, and I don’t blame him. He knows that I am very possessive when it comes to my men, so for him to admit that he finds Roman hot, well that must be a little scary for him.

  “When you say you find him hot, which is really strange coming from you by the way, do you mean you want him?” I need to find out now if I'm going to have to knock the fuck out of Nathan. It’ll save a lot of time in the long run, and it gets it out of the way before we fall out over a guy. Yeah, it’s still strange thinking of fighting with Nathan over a guy.

  “Shit, no! Look, this whole finding guys hot thing is so new to me, and I'm trying to work out what the fuck is going on. But you know that even if he was the hottest person in the world, I would never do that to you, Trey. You are my best friend, and nothing will ever come between us. I find him hot, that’s it. I don’t want to sleep with him, actually I don’t want to sleep with any man one-on-one, but I am starting to appreciate how sexy they are.”

  I feel the breath I didn’t realize I was holding escape in a rush at his words. Looking, I'm happy with. Knowing that I have something he wants is even better, as long as I know that he knows Roman is off limits.

  “Good answer, Nathan. I won’t have to kick your ass now.”

  Now I hear genuine laughter down the line. “Ha ha, yeah that’s a good one. Would love to see you try, old man.” He knows that I’ve beaten him every time we’ve gone head to head at the gym. We don’t often put on boxing gloves, but there are times that we just need to settle things the old fashioned way.

  “I’m only four years older than you, son. I think we might need to get back in the ring. Get it booked.” My memory goes back to the last time we fought. It was over something stupid that I can’t even remember now, but it was intense. I ended up with a split lip and a bruise the size of a small baby on my ribs for weeks, but I came out on top. I had blackened both Nathan’s eyes and he walked about with shades on for weeks.

  “Don’t think I won’t book it. You better back off now, because I won’t be the one limping like an old lady this time.”

  I laugh at Nathan’s big talk. He hasn’t won any of our fights, not even the very first time we fought and I hadn’t thrown a punch in my life. “Whatever. I'm going now. Some of us have to work. Oh, and Nathan?” I wait until he responds before telling him. “Keep your fucking eyes off my boyfriend.” I hang up without giving him a chance to speak, the smile firmly back on my face.

  I reach my arms up above my head trying to stretch out my spine. I've been sitting hunched over my desk for most of the afternoon, trying to sort out my billing hours for the last quarter. I have an accountant that sorts out all my invoices for me, but I need to tell her who to bill and how much to request. This is the part of my job I hate, and if I could do everything for free I would, but I have this thing where I like to eat.

  The offices have been quiet this afternoon, everyone slowing down and getting ready for the Christmas period. We have our Christmas party soon and we are usually ready to close up for the festive season by then. I have caught Roman walking past my office a few times today, and even though he has never looked in, I know he's watching me. He looks fucking sexy today in his tight suit pants and white shirt. I honestly don’t know why I never noticed him before. He has to be the sexiest man I've ever seen. Even his nerdy glasses and the stutter he develops when he's anxious makes my dick hard. All day I’ve wanted to drag him in here by the back of his neck and bend him over the desk, show him exactly how he makes me feel.

  I shake my head and go back to trying to make sense of the accounts in front of me. The last thing I need is to have my head full of dirty images of Roman while I'm trying to sort out something difficult. Roman Knox is nothing but a hot distraction to me.

  I hear movement in the hall outside my office and I try to ignore it but they aren’t exactly being quiet. I look up from my desk as two large bodies enter the office. The blood freezes in my veins as I take in their military uniforms. This can’t be happening. Please. Don’t let this be real.

  “Mr. Colby?”

  “Yes.” The word is quiet on my lips, barely audible over the thud of my pulse in my ears.

  “Mr. Colby, my name is Mr. Johansen and I work in the family liaison department of the United States Military. We have you down as the next of kin for Mr. Dalton Colby. Is that you?”

  I can’t understand what’s he's saying, my mind racing wondering what his presence here means. I don’t even manage to get words out this time, nodding my head before he continues talking, changing my life forever.

  “I regret to inform you that your brother Dalton…” It’s the last thing I hear before the buzzing in my head takes over.

  I'm sitting on the edge of my desk watching as the door to Trey’s office closes. When the military personnel exited the lift everyone had just stared at them in confusion. I think I was the only one that knew who they might be here to see. We all watched as they asked Quincy where they could find Mr. Colby, and when he pointed towards his office my heart sank to my stomach. Trey had told me a little about his brother, not enough to know him as a person, but enough to know that he works in the military. These men turning up can’t be anything but bad, and it takes everything in me not to race to Trey’s office to be with him.

  I'm biting my nails, a habit I’ve been able to control until now, when the door opens in front of me. They’ve been in there for about thirty minutes and the silence has been eerie. There have been whispers around me, but I've ignored them, not wanting to listen to their excited voices as they get some gossip.

  “What do you think the asshole did?”

  I bite my lip, almost drawing blood while I try and reign in the anger that his words bring. “Fuck off, Quincy.” I grind the words out through my gritted teeth, hoping for his sake that he takes the hint and leaves me alone. He doesn’t say anything but my attention is fully on the three men that are exiting Trey’s office.

  Outwardly Trey looks like he always does, but I know him better than that now. His eyes are rimmed with red and there is a look of despair in them, and I desperately want to rush over to him but I can’t, not here. I keep my eyes on his, hoping that he will look at me so I can tell him I'm here for him, that he can talk to me if he needs to, but he keeps his eyes facing forward. They all walk straight to the elevator, getting on it without a word. I watch as the doors close, my heart breaking into pieces.

  “Hope the fucker gets what’s coming to him.” I hear Quincy’s voice close to my side and I can’t restrain myself this time. I turn and grab him by the front of the shirt, pulling my fist back before punching him with all my strength. He had a look of utter shock before I hit him, and I would laugh if I was in the mood, but all I can think about is killing him. I manage to get a few hits in before I'm dragged away; leaving him with a bleeding nose and a red mark on his jaw that will bruise later.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you!” His voice comes out loud, but I can hear the shake in it. I try to get closer to him, but the two people holding me back are hindering my progress.

  “You're what’s wrong with me. You are a fucking waste of space and toxic. You just can’t keep your mouth shut can you? Just fucking leave Trey alone.”

  Quincy’s hand stills on his chin. He gets an evil gleam in his eye and I know that he's just worked out something very important in his head. “You're fucking him aren’t you?” He
laughs and all the fight drains from of my body. All eyes are suddenly focused on me and I wish I could vanish into thin air.

  “I knew there had to be a reason that he took me off his case and put you on it. You're fucking your boss to get special treatment.” Every word that he's saying is a lie, but I know that no matter how much I deny it no one will believe me. I don’t try to convince them that I'm not sleeping with Trey, but I need to tell them that it wasn’t to get further in the company.

  I straighten my back and muster every ounce of courage I have. “No, I didn’t fuck him to get you thrown off the case, you managed to do that all by yourself. I can’t help it if I'm a better worker than you, Quincy. Ask anyone around here and see if they agree with me. You’re a waste of space and that’s your own doing. Maybe if you worried more about your job and less about people’s lives you would get on better!” I start to walk away, needing to put space between us before I punch him again and lose my job. I refuse to get fired over him, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I spent a lot of time building up my reputation. I know that me punching him will get back to the senior partners, but I'm hoping I will be able to talk my way out of it. I've been a great worker up until this, and I have a spotless record. I will just plead with them and hope they are in a forgiving mood.

  Chapter 18

  I reach out and grab the bottle of Scotch that’s sitting next to my leg. The words I heard earlier still repeating through my head, and I need to get rid of them.

  Missing in action. No knowledge of his last known location. We are doing everything we can but we think you should prepare for the worst.

  I close my eyes against the burn as I take another large mouthful, hoping the alcohol will drown out the words before they make me go insane. I can’t think about Dalton never coming home and not being able to see him again. The fear of possibly losing the only real family I have left makes me take another drink. The tears that I thought had dried up threaten to fall, and I swipe at them angrily before they have chance to spill from my eyes.

  I'm sitting on the floor of my guest room with pictures of Dalton and me spread all around me. As soon as I got home I emptied out the boxes of photos I had, just needing to see his face again. I can’t lose him; he's the better half of us. Even though we are practically identical in physical appearance, we couldn’t be more different in personality if we tried. Where I am cold and distant, Dalton was always the one ready to give people a smile and make friends wherever he went. He was the reason we were so popular in school, he naturally attracted the crowd and I went along for the ride. We are similar in our drive to be better than anyone, both of us doing great things in our chosen career but now I wish he hadn’t been so good.

  The last time I heard from Dalton he said he was about to fly out on a rescue mission. He couldn’t tell me much about it, as with nearly every aspect of his job, but he promised that he would be as safe as possible, that he would do everything in his power to get home. That was five months ago and I haven’t heard from him since. I try not to think too much about him, worrying that if I do I’ll miss him more than I already do. Now I think of all the times I missed seeing him, all the times I told him I was too busy to visit. It’s only now that I might never see him again do I realize how much I took him for granted.

  I swipe the tears from my cheeks, determined to stay positive. This is Dalton, no one is as good as he is. If anyone can get back home it’s him. I take another drink of Scotch, emptying the bottle before I slide down the wall until I'm lying on the floor. I stare at the ceiling, trying to clear my head of everything. I'm successful in not thinking of Dalton, but as he leaves he’s replaced by Roman, about how he looked as I left today. The pain that I saw in his face, the pain he was obviously feeling for me, made me want to go to him but I couldn’t. I knew he would realize that something had happened to my brother, and as much as I wanted to wrap him in my arms and let him share my burden, I walked away. I can’t let him in, because if I trust him to help me, if I let him hold me together, when he eventually leaves it will tear me apart. That’s something I don’t think I can survive again. It’s easier to be alone than to let someone in and risk being hurt again. I know some people would say I'm being dramatic and I'm forever looking for the worst in people, but I haven’t been in love with anyone that hasn’t caused me pain.

  I hear my cell go off next to me, and I reach out to grab it. I’d wanted to turn it off when I got home but I knew that it’s the only way for Mr. Johansen, my family liaison officer, to get in touch with me. He’s been appointed to my brother’s case, and I can get in contact with him twenty-four hours a day if I have any questions. I only have two questions and he can’t answer those for me. Where is my brother and when will he be home?

  I look at my phone and see Nathan’s name flashing on the screen, and as much as I don’t want to talk to him I know he’ll come over if I don’t answer. “Hey.” My voice is rough, and I wish it was just from the Scotch, but I know that it’s also from all the crying I've done.

  “Have you heard anything yet?”

  I’d called Nathan as soon as I got in my car to drive here. He’s always the first person I go to because I know he will keep me from losing it completely.

  “Nothing yet.” I wish I could give him more, but talking about it hurts too much.

  “You’ll let me know as soon as you hear something?” He already asked me this when I called earlier, and I assured him I would. As much as I love Nathan, I want to be alone just now. Actually, that’s a lie, I want to be with Roman but that can’t happen. I can’t let him see me fall apart.

  “I said I would, didn’t I? Look, I need to go. I want to keep the line free.” I'm just about to hang up when his voice comes down the line loudly.

  “Are you alone?”

  I sigh, knowing that he's going to try and come over. “Yeah I'm alone, but don’t come over because I'm not answering the door to anyone.”

  He's silent for a few moments and I know that he's trying not to give me shit for being alone. I'm the type of person that doesn’t share my misery, but Nathan is the type of person who believes you should never go through these moments alone. I know he's right. I need someone to help me, but the person I want is the person I can’t trust.

  “Call Roman. Let him help you.”

  I close my eyes, swallowing down the pain that is threatening to escape. I know if he hears me break, there will be nothing to stop him turning up at my door.

  “I need to go.” I don’t wait on him saying anything else, but as I hang up I hear him shouting that I'm being an ass and I need to call Roman. I just wish life was that easy for me.

  Three days I've been sitting here in the dark. I closed my blinds on the first night and I haven’t had the energy to open them since then. I’ve lost count of the bottles of Scotch I've been through, and there are empty beer bottles overflowing in my sink. I can’t even remember the last time I ate, but I think it was yesterday at some point. The only thing I can remember is the phone calls that have been coming in. Most of them I haven’t answered and the rest I wish I hadn’t. Mr. Johansen called to update me on what was happening and I could have gone the rest of my life without that conversation. That’s what turned one day of drinking into three, and I think there are a few more days to come. I plan on drinking until I run out of alcohol, and then I'm going to lie here and try to fade away.

  I close my eyes and relive my last conversation with Mr. Johansen, the one that changed everything, and not for the better.

  “Mr. Colby. It’s Mr. Johansen. I've had an update from the team that is leading the search for your brother’s squad. As you are aware there were three other men under Dalton’s command, and I'm afraid to tell you that those men have been located. I can’t give you much information regarding their condition as we need to contact their families, but I can tell you that the rescue mission has now become a recovery mission. I'm sorry Mr. Colby, but I think you need to prepare yourself for the re
al possibility that your brother won’t be found.”

  One conversation and the world stopped. I keep telling myself that Dalton's alive. I'm his twin, I would feel it if he was gone. There would be an empty feeling, a sense that something was missing, but I don’t have that. So now I'm living with the faith that he will be found. I just need to be numb until he comes home.

  My cell beeps from the counter where it’s charging and I know who it is without even looking. There’s only one person who’s been messaging religiously since I vanished from the world. I groan as I push myself up into a sitting position, holding onto the side of the sofa until my head stops spinning and my stomach stops churning. Standing slowly, I move over to see how many messages I missed while I was sleeping. I unlock my phone and scroll through the dozen or so texts that Roman has sent.

  ‘Do you need anything?’

  ‘I can bring you food so you can stay by your phone.’

  ‘I wish you would talk to me.’

  ‘I'm worried about you, please just let me know you're okay.’

  The rest are the same sort of messages and I know I shouldn’t read them. I should delete them as they arrive to save myself from the pain of reading them, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I need the small connection with him. I don’t want to talk to him, but knowing that he’s out there thinking about me makes me feel like I'm not going to disappear.

  I'm about to return my phone to the worktop when it pings in my hand. I look down and read a message that has my heart racing in my chest.

  ‘Please open the door.’

  Just as I finish reading there’s a gentle knock on my front door. I look down at myself as I walk to the door and I know that there’s no way that I’ll be opening it. Even if I wanted to see him, I haven’t showered in days, or even changed my clothes, and I don’t want him to see what a disaster I am. I look through the peephole on my door and I breath out a stuttered exhale as I take in the glorious view that is Roman. I don’t want to look away but I see his fingers moving over his cell phone before mine sounds in my hand.