Rebel Heart: (Rebel Series Book 2) ((Rebel Series))

by J. C. Hannigan

  Tessa didn’t seem surprised at all by this news. I stared at her, my mouth agape with disbelief. “Please tell me you’re not in on this.”

  “I’m not ‘in’ on anything,” she argued, frowning. “But when has Braden ever taken no for an answer? I knew he couldn’t keep his distance for long.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Are you blind?” she demanded, giving me an incredulous look. “Braden is still carrying a very heavy torch for you. Anybody could see it. Hell, I think Mr. Smith can see it and he actually is blind. Legally.”

  “Right so then dinner is a terrible idea, as I suspected,” I groaned, thinking about how he challenged me into saying yes by pointing out that I had never let fear run my decisions before.

  Lately, that’s all I did. I let fear run my life. I let it chase me away from a job I had loved. I let it keep me silent. I let it build walls around my heart.

  I wanted to be fearless Elle again.

  “I don’t know about that,” Tessa shrugged. “I do think you need to sit down and hash out the past, especially if the two of you are ever going to move forward.”

  “I’m not sure I want to hear him out,” I sighed again, feeling confused and conflicted.

  Tessa’s fingers tapped against the wood of the porch as she thought. After several long minutes, she finally turned to speak, her expression empathetic and compassionate. “I don’t think you’ve put your relationship with Braden behind you. I think it still lives in your heart and your skin, and I think it’s trying to claw its way out…so I do believe you need to hear him out, if only to get the closure you need to move on with Alex. You do want to move on with Alex, right?”

  I hesitated long enough for Tessa’s eyebrow to shoot up in a questioning look. “I’m not sure. I’ve been feeling kind of…stuck for a while. Even before I came back to town,” I dropped my eyes to my lap. If I couldn’t speak the whole truth, I could at least share a morsel of it. “I wanted to move forward with Alex…but I’m not sure. I have feelings for him, but they’re…”

  “Not poignant?” she supplied, a sad smile on her lips. I nodded. “Elle, you’ve always been the most fiery, passionate person I’ve known…and I’ve noticed that you don’t burn for him the way you should when you’re in love.”

  “That’s because I’m not in love,” I confessed. It hurt to admit such a thing out loud. I’d been denying it for so long, hoping my feelings would change and grow. So far, they hadn’t. If anything, I’d become more and more numb, more and more detached. I didn’t know if this was just another unfortunate side effect of PTSD, or if I was on the wrong path. I had loved my job so much when I first started working, now the mere thought of returning made me feel sick with dread.

  Since arriving home, I’d still had episodes of panic—like when my car broke down on the side of the highway—but it was nothing like it was in Barrie. Here, I felt different. I felt like healing was a real possibility now, but I had no idea what that meant for me—or my future.

  Sensing my heartache, Tessa threw her arms around my shoulders and pulled me to her. A single tear escaped, trailing down my chin like a silent punctuation mark on my revelation.

  “Have you told Alex how you feel?”

  “How can I tell him? We live together, we work together. Besides, maybe I’m just depressed. Maybe my feelings for Alex are being blocked out by that.”

  “If anything, I think you’re unhappy in life. You need to make changes.” Tessa said wisely. “You need to tell Alex how you truly feel, because I think the guilt of knowing and not telling him is weighing heavily on you and making everything a thousand times worse.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I sighed, mulling it over.

  “Elle, I don’t think this has anything to do with Braden. I mean, not like how you’re thinking. I think you just don’t feel that level of passion for Alex that you did for Braden, and it’s making you take pause—which is a good thing. You want that, you need it. You function on ‘crazy, can’t get enough of you’ passion. That doesn’t mean you need to forgive Braden, that doesn’t mean he’s the only one you’ll ever have that kind of love with—but maybe it just means that Alex isn’t that person. There might be someone else out there who is, though,” Tessa finished her grand speech by nudging her body into mine and softening her words with a gentle smile.

  I exhaled, massaging my temple with my fingers. “I hear what you’re saying. But Alex has been good to me…he’s been good for me.”

  Tessa watched me cautiously. “This is about more than your love life, isn’t it?” She was giving me an opening, all but pleading me with her eyes. She could see me warring with myself between telling her the truth about what was happening in my life and closing down. I desperately wanted to close down. I didn’t want to burden my best friend with my drama—especially not with the wedding and all the stress she was facing. “Don’t shut down, Elle. Tell me what’s going on—I know something’s happening. You’re not acting like yourself. At first I thought it was the whole wedding thing and having to see Braden again…but I know that’s not it. At least not completely.” She paused again, the wheels turning quickly in her mind. “Oh my God, are you pregnant Elle?!”

  “Hell no!” I hissed, looking behind us to the screen door to make sure Tessa’s voice hadn’t carried. “I am not pregnant,” I told her, frowning.

  “Then?” Tessa pressed, her amber eyes wide. She wasn’t letting go and I knew she wouldn’t until I fessed up.

  I drew my legs up against my chest, making myself into a small little ball. I couldn’t meet her eyes, so I spoke to my knees. “I have post-traumatic stress disorder.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “My boss—and doctor—insisted that I take some time off to try and deal with my symptoms.”

  Tessa sighed and pulled me against her, wrapping her arms around my body. “I’m so sorry Elle. I had no idea, why didn’t you tell me? And here I’ve been, adding a shit ton of stress on you and making you worry about my silly wedding when you should be focusing on yourself.” Her voice was thick with emotion, as if she was struggling not to cry.

  “No, it’s fine. Really, the wedding is a good distraction for me. And honestly…I didn’t know how to tell people. I still don’t, my mom doesn’t know yet. Only Alex knew.”

  “You’re not ashamed, are you?” Tessa demanded, pulling away just enough to meet my gaze with a determined look in her eyes. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Your job is high-stress, you’ve seen things most people couldn’t handle. You’ve saved lives and you’ve put yourself in danger on a regular basis.”

  “And I can’t handle it, any of it,” I responded, my voice breaking a little. “I want to, so badly. I want to handle this job. I want to save lives…I just…I can’t turn it off. Ever. I can’t get the images out of my head. It got to the point where I couldn’t even sit in the ambulance—let alone answer a call—without having a full blown panic attack. That’s not fair to my partner…and even though it’s Alex, even though he understands…I hated that I was putting him in danger by not being one hundred percent focused on the job. At first, I dreaded the idea of coming home…but now that I’m here, I’m not all that sure that I want to go back. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do—I can’t just give up on my job, on my career.”

  “Well, you don’t have to decide today, do you?” Tessa asked, arching a brow. I shook my head, sighing. “Then let’s just focus on the now. Take things one day at a time. Let yourself breathe and just be.”

  “Yeah,” I said, sounding every bit as unconvinced as I felt. We sat in silence for a few moments, Tessa’s arms still around me. We turned at the sound of the screen door clanging as Mom stepped out onto the porch followed by a sheepish looking Bill.

  “What’s going on?” Mom asked, looking between the two of us with suspicion.

  “Nothing, just waiting on you,” Tessa answered with a smile as she stood up. “Are you ready to find your dress?”

  Braden

&nb
sp; For the rest of the day, I kept watching the clock. The hands moved painfully slow and yet—at the same time—agonizingly fast. Asking Elle out for dinner was an impulsive move. Yeah, I wanted to take her out, and I definitely wanted to be in her company again. I had to apologize to her, I had to make her understand that I’m not the same guy I was—that I won’t ever break her heart or take her for granted again.

  I didn’t exactly leave myself enough time to come up with the perfect speech. Hell, I didn’t think I’d ever have enough time to come up with the right things to say to make everything better, to erase the hurt I’d obviously caused her. Words had never been my strong suit. Communication wasn’t my forte. I spoke by actions and gestures. My family knew I cared about them because I’d do anything for them—even dig myself out of an empty pit of self-destruction with my bare hands.

  As for Elle…well, I had always showed my affection by physical touch and wordless glances. I used to just look at her and be able to convey every thought I couldn’t put out there. She’d always just…known. She’d known what I needed and exactly how to get me to open up.

  But she wasn’t mine anymore. I couldn’t touch her to reassure her of how deeply and truly I felt for her. She belonged to someone else, and even though I could tell she would respond to my touch the way she always had—she wasn’t ready to. She’d never forgive herself if she gave in that easily to me. To Elle, this was about her pride. I’d hurt her pride, and she wasn’t going to make it easy for me to get close again.

  And it shouldn’t be easy for me. I should have to work damn hard to prove myself, because Elle deserved that, and I was willing to do that.

  Even still, dinner this soon wasn’t a good idea, but she’d said yes and I’d be damned if I would walk away from any second of time spent with her.

  When five o’clock finally rolled around, I rushed home and practically flew down the basement stairs to my domain, barely saying a word to my sister and nephew in passing. I was in the shower within seconds, not even allowing the water to heat up before submerging myself under the icy droplets.

  I was completely keyed up, my entire body pulsing with the knowledge that I would soon be in her company. My mind easily recalled the memory of Elle, leaning forward against the engine of her little car yesterday. The shorts that she was wearing had hardly covered the globes of her ass cheeks. And just like that, I was rock hard. The cold water pellets did nothing to ease the desire coursing through my body.

  I knew I wasn’t going to be able to focus on anything until I dealt with my sexual frustration. I placed one of my hands against the tile of the shower and fisted my cock with the other, slowly pumping as I pictured her. The way she’d bite her lower lip, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks and the quiet gasps she’d made whenever I pleasured her with my mouth.

  I increased the tempo, moving my hand quicker in time to the memories that rushed through my mind. I could still remember exactly what it felt like to be inside Elle Thompson—like fucking Nirvana. My knees buckled as I came, shooting my load all over the shower floor. After taking a few minutes to collect myself, I set to the task of washing my hair and body.

  Less than ten minutes later, I came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist. I exhaled deeply and ran my hand through my damp locks, tugging at the roots as I considered my options. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. I’d never been the kind of guy to give a shit about what I wore. Most of my clothes were old jeans and plain t-shirts. I didn’t want to wear something that looked worn; I wanted to look good.

  I pulled out my newest pair of dark denim jeans, and the white Henley shirt my sister bought for me last Christmas. I tugged the shirt over my head and my eyes skimmed over to the mirror above my dresser. I ran a hand through my unruly hair again, trying to get some semblance of order to it.

  Satisfied that I looked about as good as I could get, I grabbed my keys and wallet, my eyes automatically focussing on the photo booth pictures. What I wouldn’t give to have Elle look at me like that again.

  When I came back upstairs, Aiden and Becky were sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner. “There’s a plate for you in the microwave,” Becky told me, gesturing with her fork to the counter.

  “Thanks but I’m going out for dinner tonight,” I told her, pausing to ruffle Aiden’s hair.

  “Really?” Becky said, skeptically eyeing me. My heart ached a little, a dull ache that I shoved into the back corner of my mind. I didn’t need to get all worked up and depressed that my family didn’t trust me yet.

  “Yeah, really. I’m picking Elle up for seven,” I answered, trying to keep my tone light. Five years ago, I would have lashed out at her, pissed off and angry at the world. Sometimes, it’s hard to turn over a new leaf. Your old skin calls to you, because it’s familiar and easy and it doesn’t take work, but I was determined to leave that person behind forever.

  Now concern truly did line Becky’s face. She shook her head a little, biting down on her lip. “Do you honestly think that’s a good idea?” she asked, working to keep her tone neutral.

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  My sister sighed, glancing towards her son. It was evident this wasn’t a conversation she wanted him to partake in, or to overhear. “Elle’s with somebody else now, Braden.”

  “She still deserves an apology,” I responded, already walking out the door. I closed it on her reply.

  I wasn’t entirely sure who Becky was trying to protect—me, or Elle, but I couldn’t even be angry at her for it. She was the cautious one. She guarded her heart and the heart of her loved ones fiercely. I hadn’t seen her date or show an interest in anyone since Aiden’s father, and I knew she was messed up from that still. I knew he’d broken something in her, and when I got to thinking about it—I wanted him to pay more than he had. The beating provided by Brock that landed him in the hospital with his jaw wired shut didn’t seem like much compared to the cautious, fearful way my sister now lived.

  By the time I pulled up the Thompson driveway, I was completely keyed up. I jumped out of my truck, leaving it running, and walked up the wooden steps of the front porch. Just as I raised my hand to knock, Elle’s mother walked into the foyer.

  Sue Thompson had always scared me a little bit. You’d think it would have been easier to date a girl whose father wasn’t around. Elle’s old man might not be sitting on the front porch shining his shotgun, but Sue sure would be. She was terrifying, and she once told me that if I ever hurt her daughter, she’d castrate me herself using the antique cattle bull castrating knife that had been in her family for centuries. Elle had certainly inherited her mother’s brash, fierce personality.

  “Sue,” I said by way of greeting. She pursed her lips with displeasure, and my heart sank a little in my chest. Sure, Sue had been terrifying at first, but she’d quickly warmed up to me and made me feel like a part of the Thompson household. I always got the sense that she rooted for me. Right now, I definitely didn’t have that sense.

  “Braden,” her tone was cold, almost calculating, and she made no move to open the door for me. I stood there awkwardly for what felt like hours but was really only less than a minute before Elle descended the stairs.

  She hadn’t changed from the outfit she had worn earlier. I knew this was Elle’s way of reinforcing that this was not a date, but it was hard to be upset about that when the sundress she was wearing kissed her thighs and clung to her curvy body. My hands were already itching to touch her, to peel off that thin layer of material and—

  “I’ll be home shortly, Mom,” Elle’s words broke me from my overtly sexual thoughts, and I raised my eyes to watch as she grabbed her jean jacket from the coat rack. “The second dinner is done,” she added, her eyes flitting to me to make sure I understood that this was just dinner.

  “Sounds good honey,” Sue said in response, her cold eyes still on me. A smirk danced across her lips, and she shook her head. “Try not to do anything I wouldn’t do.”

 
; “Yeah, leave the castrating knife at home,” I interjected with a cocky grin, knowing exactly what Sue had meant. Elle frowned, looking confused. I’d never filled her in on that little chat her mother had with me the first time Elle brought me home. Sue grinned, pleased that I remembered and delighted that I’d caught her veiled threat.

  “Let’s just get this over with,” she sighed, resigned. I arched a brow, pushing open the screen door and holding it open for her.

  “Try not to look too excited,” I said dryly. “I wouldn’t want my ego to burst.”

  Elle smirked and chose not to reply as she walked through the doorway. Her arm was inches away from brushing against my chest, and my body responded immediately. “Catch ya later, Sue,” I added, letting the screen door close behind me as I followed Elle down her porch steps.

  I appreciated the view of Elle’s fine ass the entire time she walked towards my truck. She opened the door, climbing inside and practically slamming it my face when I attempted to do the gentlemanly thing and close it for her. Her devious smile grew, as if she was pleased by the dumbfounded look on my face.

  I arched a brow and walked around the front of the truck, then climbed in behind the wheel. This truck was riddled with memories, and they deeply affected me even when Elle wasn’t sitting in the passenger seat. Now all I could think of was all the times we’d hooked up in the cab.

  Judging by the pink tint to Elle’s cheeks, she was remembering those times too.

  I closed the door and turned to face her, our eyes instantly locking. She drew in a shaky breath, and I knew that she was unnerved by the intensity of my desire. “You look incredible, Elle,” I said, my voice catching a little on the lump in my throat.

  “This isn't a date,” she rolled her eyes, breaking the contact.

  “I know.” The smile I wore was genuine. Even if Elle spent the duration of this evening insulting me, I was happy enough to simply be in her company, to hear her voice again and have her attention directed on me—even if it wasn’t positive attention.