Soldier's Heart: a Wounded Love novel

by Megan Green

  Just as I was hoping, her face turns a deep crimson, and she busies herself with Lucy and Loki on her lap. I laugh to myself at her discomfort. Could I possibly affect her the same way she does me? I sincerely doubt this woman—this woman who seems to have everything figured out and an actual plan in life, would be interested in me romantically. But the blush of her cheeks indicates otherwise. Maybe she’s confused. Like I said earlier, she did have a rough day. And in all the other times I’ve been out here, she’s been friendly and welcoming, but has never given me any indication she has any desire to see me in anything other than a professional capacity.

  She’s still stressed. And tired. Those dark circles under her eyes definitely give credence to that notion. She’s exhausted, and her brain isn’t functioning at full capacity. And as big of an asshole as I am, I’m not the kind of asshole who’s going to take advantage of someone in her situation.

  I have to keep reminding myself of this as I look over at her and see her tugging her lip between her teeth again.

  Don’t be an asshole.

  Don’t be an asshole.

  Don’t be an asshole.

  She peers up at me from under her lashes, teeth still biting into her bottom lip, her doe eyes glinting in the dim light from the lamp in the corner of the room. I lean closer to her, wanting to close the distance between us. At my subtle movement, her eyes flicker.

  Fuck. I’m an asshole.

  I straighten again, increasing the space between us. She coughs lightly, turning her attention back to the two dogs on her lap. I look at Jasper on my lap. He’s sound asleep. I run my hand over his head again. He really can be a good dog. You know, for being the annoying spawn of Satan.

  I watch Emma as she settles Loki and Lucy on the floor next to their mom. She takes Jasper from me, tucking him in with his brothers and sisters. She gives Maggie one last pat and assures herself the dog is okay before she joins me back on the couch.

  “So, what should we do now?” I ask, letting her know I have no intention of running off now that she seems to have calmed down. She called me to spend the night with her and her dogs, and that’s what I’m going to do. I grab a throw pillow and stuff it between my side and the arm of the couch, making myself comfortable. She smirks at me.

  “Well, we can always ‘Netflix and chill.’” I shoot her a sardonic look, and she snickers. “I mean that in the literal sense of the phrase. What did you say you were going to watch tonight?”

  “Breaking Bad. I just started the second season.”

  “You haven’t seen Breaking Bad?” she asks, again looking at me like I’ve grown another head.

  I shake my head. “I wasn’t exactly in an area with good satellite reception until about six months ago. I’ve got some catching up to do.”

  Emma’s face darkens, as if she’d forgotten I’d been deployed for so long. And I realize, she doesn’t know. Sure, she knows I was in the military. And something happened to cause me to have PTSD. I know Joey has told her as much because that’s all Beth told him. But Beth also assured me she gave him no details. Just that there was an incident, and I’ve been seeing her since I got home six months ago. She doesn’t know me.

  I can see the curiosity on Emma’s face. I know she wants to ask me, but I also know she has several years of experience of dealing with veterans. And she’s far too polite and professional to ask such personal questions.

  My eyes scan her face, landing on her beautiful blue eyes. Eyes that are looking at me with so much concern and interest, as if she truly cares about what happened to me. To my men. About what happened to cause me to shut myself off from everyone since I returned. That is, everyone until I met Emma.

  In the short time I’ve known her, she’s managed to work her way under my tough exterior. Even before the incident, I’d spent years building this shell around me. I wanted to be the model soldier. Strong. Resourceful. Able to face anything thrown at me. And for ten years, I’d done just that. Sure, I’d had a slightly better relationship with my family back then than I do now, but even they weren’t allowed to see beyond my shield. The only people that had truly understood me were the men I led. The men I so thoroughly let down that day more than six months ago.

  But seeing Emma sitting here before me, hope and support so evident in her expression, I wonder if there might be hope for me yet. I never expected a woman to crack through my barriers, but sure enough, Emma is slowly chipping away at them.

  The sun sinks below the horizon, extinguishing all light in the room other than the tiny lamp in the corner. Emma always looks gorgeous. It was one of the first things I noticed about her—hey, I’m a man, sue me—but in the increasing darkness, the soft light highlights the flecks of gray in her eyes, causing them to sparkle. Her soft smile only increases their luminosity. She truly embodies the whole “smiling with your eyes” thing. I never understood that expression until I met Emma, but when she smiles—truly smiles—her eyes brighten right along with the rest of her face. It’s breathtaking.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I make what would normally be a difficult decision in seconds. I’m going to tell her.

  “I was the team leader of a Special Forces unit. Green berets, as we’re usually called. I had a group of men who looked up to me. Looked to me for guidance, and we were an amazing team. You always hear people in the military referring to their ‘family.’ But that’s exactly what we were. Those men were my brothers.”

  I stop, looking to Emma to get a feel of her reaction. She doesn’t seem surprised in the least I’ve decided to pour my heart out to her. She folds her legs under her, pulling a pillow onto her lap. She makes sure I can see I have her undivided attention as I tell my story.

  “I got really close with one of them especially. James Stone. Like I said, I loved them all like brothers, but Jim and I—we had a certain bond, I’d guess you’d say. We could read each other without ever saying a word. He was my weapons sergeant. And he sort of became my unofficial second in command. We were the dynamic duo. Whenever I wasn’t sure what to do, I always turned to him for guidance. The two of us were able to lead our men through some shitty situations, coming out, for the most part, unscathed. Our team always joked that we must have had a direct line to God or some shit, with some of the shit storms we were able to navigate through.

  “One day we were out on a mission. Our platoon had gotten intel one of the terrorist leaders we’d been searching for might be in the area, and my men and I were sent out. We specialized in reconnaissance. We were the best of the best.”

  Memories of that day swirl in my head. The meetings that morning, making sure we were all prepped and ready for the mission. The adrenaline that rippled through the entire camp as we waited to head out. The cocky banter that occurred between the twelve of us as we assured everyone we’d return faster than expected and with even more prisoners than our projected target. And the terrifying moment when I realized everything went to shit.

  “The intel had been pretty specific about his whereabouts. We’d had it narrowed down to less than a mile radius. It was our job to scout the area and determine exactly which building he was in. Then we were to radio for backup before moving in to apprehend him. We cleared the first building we came to and took cover as we watched and waited. And not even twenty minutes after we’d settled in, the son of a bitch’s known ally came strolling out of the building across the street like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Jim radioed in that the target had been found, and base assured us backup would be there within the hour to assist in the take down, but we were too amped to wait. Jim tried to talk me down. Told me to wait, but my men were chomping at the bit to take that fucker down. There’d been no activity since the man had left. Not even a ruffled curtain or flash of light. No movement whatsoever. Looking back now, I realize that should’ve been reason to give pause. But at the time, all I could think was the son of a bitch was in there, most likely with only a guard or two, judging from the arrogance of the earli
er man. They didn’t think they had anything to worry about. There was no way they’d be heavily armed or on their guard. We could catch them completely unaware. The longer we waited, the stronger the chance was we’d be found out. And when the rest of our platoon rolled in, they’d be sure to be alerted to our presence. I thought for sure I was doing the right thing by going in. I felt it in my gut. If we waited, people might die. I was going to make sure that didn’t happen. So I gave the order. And though he disagreed with the decision, Jim was right there in the front when we marched in.”

  Emma covers my hand with hers. It wasn’t until then I’d realized I was shaking. Perspiration soaks my hairline, and my breathing is staggered. I’m on the verge of a panic attack, and I was so caught up in my memories I hadn’t even realized it. My chest tightens, and I struggle to catch my breath. My vision tunnels, and my head swims. Fuck. This is happening. Right here, in Emma’s living room, I’m going to have a full blown freak out.

  I lean forward, placing my head between my knees as I attempt to gain control. But my head continues to spiral, and I know it’s a lost cause. I’m going to have to ride this out and hope I don’t scare her too damn bad.

  Tears fall onto my cheeks as a sob breaks free of my chest. And just as I feel myself completely losing control, I feel something wet press against my hand. A small head nudges my hand, nestling itself against my leg and looking at me with big, sad eyes. Jasper jumps up, putting his front paws on my knees and giving my arm a small lick. I lift my head, taking in the small dog before me. I look into his dark eyes, seeing myself reflected in their depths. I pull him onto my lap, and he nuzzles his head under my chin, pressing himself firmly against my chest. I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his fur. And it’s as if the fifty pound weight that had suddenly been dropped onto my chest two minutes ago evaporates. I can physically feel it lifting, my breathing coming easier and the spinning room finally beginning to still. The haze clouding my mind disperses, and my thoughts become my own again.

  I lift my head from his tiny body and see him still looking at me intently. When I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, he seems to take it as his sign that I’m okay. He lifts his front paws to my shoulders and gives my face a big, wet lick before turning on my lap and bounding onto the floor. He doesn’t go far. He settles himself at my feet and gives me one last look before closing his eyes and going back to sleep.

  I turn to Emma, finding her watching me and Jasper with glistening eyes. A single tear escapes and trickles down her cheek. She gently lifts her hand and wipes it away, smiling at me.

  “What in the hell was that?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

  “That was a service dog doing his job. I can’t believe it. We haven’t even gotten to that part of his training yet, but it’s like he knew exactly what he needed to do. It was beautiful to watch. I could practically see the panic leaving you as you held him.”

  I nod as her words echo my earlier thoughts. I’ve never had a panic attack leave me so suddenly. Not when I was so close to losing it completely. That day with Emma in the park, I’d been panicking, but it wasn’t nearly as progressed as this one was. I look at the dog at my feet, his demeanor so calm and serene. He stretches slightly and gives a small moan as he readjusts himself. His chin comes to rest on my foot. And when he releases a big sigh, it suddenly all makes sense—why Emma loves Maggie so much, why she would do anything for these dogs. Jasper may be an annoying little shit ninety percent of the time, but in these last few minutes, he’s solidified Emma’s words in my mind. Dogs have the capability of healing. They have the power of unconditional love. This small little animal was able to soothe what was shaping up to be an epically bad panic attack, with nothing more than what was essentially a hug.

  Emma breaks my rumination by settling her hand gently on my knee. I turn my gaze back to her, getting lost in her blue eyes once more. She looks at me with such admiration. Such respect. And I know I need to finish my story. As far as she knows, I saved lives by making a snap decision that day. She probably thinks I’m a hero, putting my life on the line like that. She needs to know the truth. As much as I would hate to see the look on her face turn to one of revulsion and disgust, I can’t bear to have her looking at me like this under false pretenses.

  I scratch Jasper behind the ears and release a deep breath. Emma seems to pick up on the fact that I’m ready to continue my tale. She settles herself back in her tucked position, again fixing her attention directly on me.

  “We were completely outnumbered. As soon as the door opened and my men entered, the gunfire started. We didn’t stand a chance. They were ready. And they were waiting. They’d known we’d been there the entire time. The earlier man had been a decoy, meant to give us false confidence. We walked straight into their trap.

  “Jim was first through the door, as usual. And he was the first to go down. He was shot four times in the chest. And in the process of trying to retrieve him, four others were gunned down. A grenade went off, mutilating Jim’s legs. The rest of us fell back a little, returning fire and trying to determine the best way to get to our injured men.”

  My heart rate escalates at the memory, and almost instantly Jasper is on his feet, licking my hand as I speak. And again, I’m struck by how soothing such a simple act is. He jumps into my arms as I lean down to pick him back up.

  “That was the most terrifying hour of my life. From where I was positioned, I could see Jim lying prone on the floor, in a pool of his own blood, completely exposed. He didn’t move the entire time, and I feared the worst. When the backup we should’ve waited for finally arrived, they were able to apprehend the Al Qaeda members and put an end to the assault. We lost two men. And three others, including Jim, were seriously injured. All three of them are still in physical therapy for their injuries. Jim is in a full time rehab center, attempting to learn how to walk and care for himself all over again.”

  Jasper is snuggled against my chest, and I’m surprised at how calm I feel. The guilt is still there. And tears stain my cheeks, but it’s the first time I’ve told anyone that story without ending up in a state of delirium. Even with Beth, who knows all the details and swears she’s only trying to help me, I’m never able to stave off the impending panic for long. But a small golden dog has been able to do more for me in the last ten minutes than the last three months of therapy has.

  “I walked away physically unscathed. I managed to take out a few of the assailants during the onslaught, but it was all too late. If I’d just listened to Jim, maybe the outcome would’ve been completely different. Maybe we would’ve watched longer and picked up on the fact that they knew we were there. And we could’ve entered a different way. Maybe those men wouldn’t have lost their lives. Or their limbs. Or maybe not. Maybe it would’ve played out the exact same way. But that’s the thing. I’ll never know. I made the call. I sent two men to their deaths and permanently altered the lives of three others. That’s on me. I have to live with it for the rest of my life.”

  Emma scoots next to me on the couch, throwing her arms around my shoulders and pulling me against her. I’m momentarily stunned. This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting from her when she learned my past. But I can’t bring myself to protest. Her arms feel so good around me. I bring my arms around her waist and bury my face in her neck, taking in her sweet scent.

  We sit here in silence, arms wrapped around each other, for I don’t know how long. It feels like an eternity. It feels like an instant. All I know is I want more. I need more. I could spend the rest of my life in this woman’s arms, and it would never be enough.

  A small whine sounds from the floor. Jasper is instantly up and off my lap, rushing to his mother’s side as she tries to readjust herself on the pillow. Both Emma and I snap out of the trance we’d seemed to be in. Emma slides to the floor, coming to rest on her knees next to Maggie. She runs her hands over the dog’s smooth coat, and Maggie whimpers.

  “You okay, sweetheart?” she coos at Maggie. The dog gi
ves her hand a lick, looking at Emma with those puppy dog eyes. I perch beside her, surveying Maggie as I sink back on my heels.

  “Do we need to take her back in?” I ask, concern deepening my voice.

  Emma shakes her head. “I don’t think so. They told me after a few hours the anesthesia would be wearing off, and she’d have some pain from the surgery. They gave me some pills to give her to help her be more comfortable. Will you stay here while I run and grab some for her?”

  I nod, and she jumps to her feet and hurries into the kitchen. I turn my attention back to the dog in front of me. She peers at me from under half closed eyes. She looks miserable, and after my revelation a few minutes ago, I find myself feeling sorry for her. I wish I could do something more to help her. She’s such an important part of Emma’s life. And I know it hurts Emma to see her in such pain.

  Emma’s back within seconds with two large pills in her hand and nothing else. “Doesn’t she need water or something to take those?”

  She smiles at me. “She’s not a human, Isaiah. She doesn’t swallow them with a sip of water. Normally, I’d wrap any medication I have to give her in a small piece of turkey or in one of those little pill pocket things they make specifically for this purpose, but they told me not to try feeding her anything for the next couple days. Her stomach needs time to heal. So instead, you get to hold open her mouth while I try to shove this damn thing down her throat.”

  I look at the poor dog lying on the floor, not sure if I feel worse that she doesn’t get to eat for a few days or that she has to be subjected to being force fed a horse pill while she so obviously feels like shit, but I know Emma wouldn’t do anything that wouldn’t strictly be beneficial to her, so I follow her directions and help get the pills into Maggie.