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Compass (Valiant MC Book 1)

Page 5

by Mary B. Moore


  “I could have lost you,” I could barely hear the words as she burst into tears, resting her head on the scar. “Sam wouldn’t have known you.”

  Being careful not to trap her sore hand, I pulled her up so that she was lying on me. “Scars are a reminder of being alive, at least that’s what my friend Kyle told me. It wasn’t the only one, but it’s the biggest reminder of how lucky I was,” and how unlucky the three we lost had been. “I keep thinking, if I’d gone with my gut, we could have pulled off the road and maybe the force of the blast would have just tipped us.”

  “Maybe it would have, maybe it wouldn’t have,” Piper kept her voice to a whisper as she looked up at me, still crying. “But if you were in their shoes, the rest of your unit, your lost friends, would you want them to blame themselves? Live not wanting to ever be truly happy because you weren’t there anymore?”

  “Fuck no. I’d want them to fucking live and laugh their asses off.”

  Raising a brow at me in an ‘I told you so’ way, she started inspecting me, running her fingers over every scar she came across. I kept quiet, not wanting to tell her what they were all from, she already knew enough; more than she should. At no point did I want her having the mental images of what the fires of a living hell looked like. When I thought about it like that, it sounded somewhat melodramatic, but really it was the truth. We’d referred to the areas that we’d been in as the ‘sand pits’ because although it wasn’t actual hell-fire, it was the pits of hell.

  “If you’d read the letters and found out about Sam, would you have come home or at least come to meet him?”

  I looked down at her, and saw the insecurity still in her eyes. I’d bared all of it to her, maybe not the deep feelings that tortured us, but what had led to those feelings. Piper was smart, she’d know there was more, deep down. But even knowing what she knew, she was in essence, and in her own way, asking me if Sam was important to me.

  “Nothing,” I leaned in so that my face was almost touching hers. “Not one thing would have kept me away. I hated every second of being away from you, but I always had you with me. If I’d known about him too, I would have been there for all of it.” Again, I’d missed out on so much, and I’d let her down so badly when it came to literally everything, but I was going to make it up to her. “I love you both, Pipe. I know we have work to do, I have work to do, but I’m going to do it and I’m going to prove I’m worthy of both of you.”

  Her lips twitched and I had no doubt she wanted to make a smart-ass comment; that was Piper for you, always making those comments. She hadn’t since I’d been back though and I desperately wanted the normal side of her back. “You had me with you?”

  Nodding slowly, I tried to reach for my pants, but they were too far away and I didn’t want to move her off me. “I’ve got some photos in my wallet that went everywhere with me as well as the letter that you snuck into my bag when I was deployed that first time. I read it every night.”

  Piper burst out laughing and leaned across to try and open the drawer in the bedside table, but I got there first seeing as how she was going to try and use her sore hand. Pulling it open, I took a quick peak but didn’t see anything. She reached a bit further and I grabbed onto her sides to keep her balanced; another trip to the ER was the last thing that we needed tonight or preferably anytime in the future.

  Pinching an envelope between the tips of her thumb and index finger, she lifted it out and placed it on my chest. “This has been everywhere with me. I only put it in there a couple of days ago when I realized that I’d get to see your face every day.”

  Opening it up, I almost knocked her off me laughing when I looked at each photo, the duplicates of which were in my wallet. “Would you believe me if I told you that these were the exact same ones that I have?”

  “No way!” She looked surprised and then burst out laughing with me. We had always had an uncanny habit of choosing the same things without realizing it. So many special occasions had been ruined with us having to discuss what we’d get the other after we’d got the same things enough times.

  As she stroked my beard, it hit me that the therapist had been right today – discussing the problems in as much detail as I was allowed with Piper had helped. It didn’t fix the problems, sure, but I’d laughed and smiled tonight, and she hadn’t thrown me out after she found out what I’d done.

  There was one thing hanging over me heavily just now though, and that was after discussing it all, it was bound to open me up to some fucking awful nightmares; it always did. If I had one while I was sleeping next to Piper, would I hurt her? I was bone tired, I hadn’t slept without one for years, especially not since my medical discharge. Like a majority of people with PTSD, sleep was the one time when you were vulnerable enough for it all to come back like it was happening again and more often than not, I woke up falling out of bed or running somewhere. I’d also been known to lash out in self-defense, I couldn’t take the risk of hurting Piper, but I didn’t want to leave her, so I was going to have to stay awake.

  Pulling her closer to me, I closed my eyes and lay back listening to her breathe. It was going to be a long night.

  I woke up the next morning and automatically reached out for Hunter, but his side of the bed was empty and cold. I’d had the same habit since I was a kid of sleeping with my head buried under the covers, and as I poked my head out I heard the sounds of voices coming from my kitchen and smelt pancakes. I knew that Hunter wouldn’t put me in the position of inviting the guys over to my house without letting me know, but I couldn’t think who else he’d invite over at…I squinted at the clock beside me. Eight fifty am. Shit, I hadn’t slept in until this time since I’d had Sam.

  I put my hand down on the bed to push myself up and squealed at the sharp pain that cut through it. Somehow, I’d totally forgotten that I’d hurt it and holy shit was it throbbing now.

  The door to my room opened and Hunter came in with Sam on his hip. “You forgot didn’t you?” he took in the sight of me holding my hand and raised a brow.

  “Mama, you got an owey,” Sam’s voice started to wobble at the end. He hated anyone he loved even having a band-aid on, so a big white bandage was bound to upset him even more.

  “It’s cool, bud,” Hunter rubbed his back and blew a raspberry on his neck, making Sam giggle. “Mom saw a doctor who made it look pretty with magic stuff. In a couple of days, it won’t even be there anymore.”

  Sam wiggled to be let down and then came running up to me, picking up my hand to have a good look for himself.

  “Can I see here,” he lifted up the edge of the bandage, put his face right next to it and squinted.

  “We’ll change it soon,” Hunter said, moving closer to us. “You can help me. But first, we made Mom some breakfast, didn’t we?”

  Sam started jumping up and down and almost shaking with excitement. Being around his Dad was making a side of him come out that I hadn’t realized was missing. It was like he had matured and was becoming a little boy instead of my baby.

  “We did, we did. I helped too and Poppa said that they was the best he tasted,” he leaned so his face was about half an inch from mine, “eh-ver!” He ended the word on another squeal and regardless of all the precious memories that I had of him up to that moment, this was my new favorite. He was just so happy.

  Smiling and grabbing him up for a hug, I stood up and walked toward the bathroom. “Gimme a couple minutes and I’ll be right there for the best whatever they are’s that Poppa has ever had.” I went to walk past Hunter and was stopped by him for a quick peck on the lips before he let me go.

  “Eww, grody! Guys,” Sam screeched running out of the room. “Daddy kissed Mommy. On the lips!”

  Looking up at Hunter in horror, I was close to freaking out when he started laughing so hard I was pretty sure that the rest of the guys back at the huge horror mansion would be able to hear him.

  He’d always been handsome, but even with his beard hiding his jaw and part of his cheeks, whe
n Hunter smiled women took notice and always had. I was no different, and when you saw it up close and personal, it would make any woman want to throw herself at him - so I did. He wasn’t expecting it, but he took a step back and caught me as I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him. Taking another step back, I felt him jolt and heard the door click shut and assumed that he had given it a kick.

  Not wanting it to go too far, though, with our parents and Sam walking around, I lifted my head and looked him in the eyes. They were beautiful and the warmth that I remembered from when we were younger and that had been missing when I first saw him, was coming back. He even had the little laughter wrinkles at the corners back.

  Rubbing my nose against his and giving him a quick lip touch, I let out a sigh as I tried to be responsible. “Let me go to the bathroom and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  Chuckling, he put me back down on the floor and smacked my ass. “I’ve got your painkillers and the stuff from the ER waiting for you. We’ll sort that out before you eat, but I’m starving so hurry your ass up.”

  I didn’t get a chance to reply because he was already out of the door and heading toward the kitchen, so rather than yell at him I went to the bathroom.

  For the last four years, I hadn’t started a day feeling complete. I had Sam, my friends and my parents, but I had missed Hunter hugely. Now, I had him back. I just wish I knew if he was going to stay around forever or if his past would affect him again and he’d leave not only me, but Sam too this time.

  On that thought, I took a look at myself in the mirror as I washed my hands as best as I could considering one was heavily bandaged and I wasn’t allowed to get it wet. Seeing the change in my face and the fact that I looked not just happy, but like the old me, I decided to trust in the situation and live for the moment.

  Grinning, I walked toward the kitchen and burst out laughing as I walked in. My parents were sitting at the table in front of the biggest pile of pancakes I had ever seen in my life. I don’t even think I had seen one as big as this even when I worked at iHop during eleventh grade and we’d served the football team their celebratory breakfast the day after they won the championship.

  Hunter’s parents, Delia and Ron, were sitting on the countertops staring at the pile and drinking coffee. They’d looked up at me when I’d entered and gave me wry grins as I laughed.

  “Mama, sit,” Sam pointed at a chair and started putting pancakes on the plate in front of it.

  “Two is enough,” I tried to stop him from piling the plate up high, but he looked up at me with his lower lip poking out and I gave in like the sucker I was. “Three then.” Grinning at me, he put another one on the plate and then picked up the syrup. “Uhh, I’ll do that myself, baby. Mommy has a special way that she does it.” To be specific – in quantities that don’t result in diabetes.

  I sat down as he started serving everyone else and ordered them to their seats. My dad, Ron and Hunter were the biggest suckers and ended up with five pancakes a piece swimming in most of a bottle of syrup. They were looking at their plates nervously and then each other when Sam sat down at the head of the table and shouted, “Eat!”

  Thankfully, you can eat pancakes one handed because I’d forgotten to take the painkillers that the hospital had given me when I came into the kitchen so I couldn’t hold a knife and fork. I made a mental note to be careful what food I ate until the worst was over with my hand.

  Almost like he could read what I was thinking, Hunter got up and walked over to where the stuff from the ER was and picked up one of the bottles, shaking out two pills. Wandering back over, he placed them in my hand. As I took them, he pulled my plate away from me and cut the pancakes up for me into bite size pieces. It was such an unexpected move that meant so much I almost choked on the pills and juice in my mouth.

  Looking up at him, I took in the soft expression he was looking at me with and gave him a smile of gratitude which he responded to by bending over and kissing me softly. I’d totally forgotten that we weren’t alone, until Hunter’s Mom let out a sob and started waving at her face. Looking over, I realized that we were being watched by everyone and even my Dad looked like he was going to cry.

  “Dreams come true,” my mom whispered, reaching over and taking hold of my hand.

  Looking around at everyone and seeing how happy my little boy looked at that moment, and then back up at Hunter, I figured she was right. Dreams really did come true.

  After breakfast, Dad, Griff and I took Sam out to show us his bike while I went over the work that needed to be done on my own. My Indian Scout was a fucking amazing bike, but I wanted to do some sprucing up and replace some of the parts. Both Dad and Griff were bike addicts, so they were eager to have a good look at it.

  We’d left Piper talking to Mom and Sheila while they cleaned up the kitchen after cyclone-Sam had finished making us breakfast. My parents were still getting to know Sam and every movement and decision was indulgent, but it felt like they were still holding back slightly. It broke my heart that they’d missed out on so much and couldn’t be as relaxed with him as Griff and Sheila were, but Sam loved them so I knew that it would only be a matter of days before they got to that stage with him.

  “Daddy, watch,” Sam yelled as he sped past us on the drive. I felt something catch in my chest every time he called me that, in fact I doubted that it would ever get old. Even Griffin and Dad looked emotional when they heard him say it. He’d even called my parents Gaga and Pop earlier and I think everyone had to fight back tears.

  “Be careful, bud,” I yelled.

  “You’ve got better luck shitting gold than that kid listening to a word you say about not acting like a fly on speed,” Griff chuckled from beside me.

  When we’d been growing up, Griff had been famous for his bizarre analogies, many of which had come to me when we were in the sand pits. Those moments, although bitter sweet, were mood boosters when I’d repeated them to my team. One of which had been ‘a ball sack is only as useful as the dick it dangles from’. To this day, although I have a general idea what he meant, I’m not sure I ever got his full meaning. That one became one of the team’s most used phrases though.

  I tensed as he turned the bike around sharply, almost toppling it over.

  “Jesus Christ,” I rubbed my chest to get rid of the pain in it. The thought of him even scraping his knee was starting to give me anxiety. I know every child does it, but I didn’t think that I was at the stage yet where I could see Sam get injured. It didn’t even bear thinking about.

  Clapping me on the shoulder, Dad snorted as Sam slammed the brakes on and jolted forward on the bikes saddle. His yell and the hand between his legs as he jumped in his seat had both Dad’s laughing, but I was really struggling.

  “Relax. He’s fine,” Dad said, pointing at Sam. Sure enough, he was giggling and riding off again.

  “How the shit do you do it?” I asked them.

  “Easy. You accept that you’re in a different country, a different place, with different shit going on. Then you watch how easy people are breathing and you breathe with them,” Dad shrugged with Griffin nodding along with him.

  “What he said,” Griff pointed at Dad as he squatted down beside my bike. “Now go and get the tools from the back of my truck. I wanna have a closer look.”

  Walking past Sam who had jumped off his bike for a moment to draw on the drive, I ruffled his hair and got the tool box out of Griff’s truck and walked back to my bike.

  “Wanna help with Daddy’s bike, bud?”

  Sam jumped up and screeched yes before running past me and yelling about being some guy who had tools. I had no idea what the hell he was talking about, but being able to do this with him and the Dad’s and seeing my boy breathing easy, a bit of the tension fell away.

  I was sitting up on the counter as Mom and Delia cleaned up the ten tons of flour and egg shells from literally everywhere in my kitchen. It was a good size room, big enough to hold an old wooden farm table that sat eight comf
ortably with space to spare.

  “I didn’t even know I had all of those eggs and that much flour,” I was pretty sure that I hadn’t had them all in fact. “Or the syrup,” I pointed at the three empty bottles in the garbage.

  “You had enough for one round. Ron went to the store earlier and decided that after years of not being allowed to eat what he wanted, i.e. food with calories and cholesterol, he was going to celebrate by having ‘god damn pancakes with his grandbaby’,” Delia laughed. “Sam saw it all and the rest was history, as was the wall, and floor and…how did he get flour on the top of that cabinet?”

  We all looked up and saw that there was flour dusting the top of the front of one of my cabinets. “It’s a gift. He can get Playdoh and even soup in places and heights that you’d think was impossible without causing a helluva lot more mess.”

  Although Delia laughed at what I was saying, there was a tinge of sadness in her eyes having missed out on so much. I felt my throat close and the sting of tears.

 

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