by Skyler Andra
“What the hell?” Mads muttered, and we glanced at each other. He tugged me toward the door where we both paused, listening.
Then came the second crash. It was thunderous in the calm air and another series soon followed. I jumped like a frightened child. Mads raised an eyebrow at me, his question clear.
Do you still want to go in there?
Yes. At least we hadn’t enter a bloody battlefield, I reminded myself.
Entering might have been stupid and reckless, but all that mattered to me getting Rane out of this goddamned place and ending his suffering.
I tried the door handle and it opened easily for me. We entered to a scene of a rampage. Wrecked furniture was strewn everywhere. Broken picture frames lay shattered. A fist-sized hole in the papered walls. Shame. The house could have been nice, a place I would have loved to live in when I’d been a teenager, complete with real curtains instead of sticky, broken blinds and plush carpet. None of that compared to Rane himself, who stood at the center of all, scanning the damage. His eyes were wide with horror as if he could barely believe what had happened or what he’d done.
Something about Rane Elladon that took my breath away. His dark hair and bright blue eyes, which always surprised me with how vivid they were. Instead of being lean like Mads or Byron, he was powerfully built like an engine meant for war, for protection. Now he was looking at me with such deep set grief in his eyes that I wanted to cry.
Oh, Rane, what did you do to make her run? What fears are you facing?
Chapter 17
Rane
Fuck. What had I done? The sofa and coffee table were upturned. Smashed pictures frames littered the hallway carpet. Crumbled drywall poked out of a hole pierced in the wall. I fingered the torn, pale blue wallpaper before falling to my knees.
The last thing I remembered was getting frustrated at Mattie. I raised my voice at my wife for burning the muffins she’d cooked. Then she’d snapped at me and threw the burning tin at me. I could recall the pain of scalding my hands when I raised them to protect my face. Then the feeling of fire stretched through me and I’d blacked out then gone mental.
This had been happening a lot since I’d returned from my last tour. The memory loss and missing time was a part of it, but the extreme irritability and loss my temper at stupid little things was getting to be out of hand. I had flashbacks and constant nightmares. I couldn’t get more than a few hours rest as all the faces of the dead continued to haunt me: army buddies, hostile combatants, and all the innocent woman, children and fuck even dogs.
I clutched my head in my hands sobbing as I knew I’d scared her away for good this time. That my anger frightened her. That she’d had enough. That she wasn’t coming back.
Dammit. After my second tour, I’d barely had time to grieve the loss of my older brother, serving in another unit, before they threw me back into duty. I wasn’t ready. Every day I spent on tour, I found myself anxious and agitated. Then my best friend got blown up right before my eyes.
I’d carried his bloodied torso back to base while screaming out at the medics to save him. But it was too late. There was nothing the doctors could do. He’d died upon the impact of the bomb. I’d let him down too. Everything spiraled at that point. I returned home to my wife a mess, a shell of the man she married.
Grief ate away at every feeling slowly driving me to the brink of madness. Many times, I’d contemplated leaving this Earth. So, I didn’t hurt Mattie anymore. So, I didn’t have to feel the pain anymore. But every time I tried to end it something stopped me, a supernatural force asserting its will over mine.
“Rane?” a familiar voice called out pulling me from my misery.
My head snapped up and I scanned the foyer.
“Mattie?” I responded while moving to the front door. I hoped she’d come back to me, even though she never did. The door rattled in the wind as she left it open.
Besides the one time we met in the lawyer’s office to sign the divorce papers—which I tore up—we never saw each other again. Each year, she sent me a letter pleading me for a divorce. She and her new partner were too scared to meet me in person. I never granted her request. I couldn’t move on. Couldn’t let her go. Couldn’t admit I was a failure.
Rane Elladon didn’t fail at anything. Captain of my High School football team. Prom King. Army squad leader in three years. Voted in his high school yearbook, ‘most likely to succeed’. What would everyone think of me now? A retired army veteran, haunted, washed out, haunted by ghosts of his own making…
“Rane?” the woman asked.
My watery eyes refocused. I hadn’t seen her or the man standing beside her, both were watching me. I knew her. Long, brown hair fell past her shoulders. Grey eyes like the sky on the brink of rain. Curves like an hourglass that made me ache inside. Those full lips had caressed mine and breathed life into me.
What the hell were they doing in this godforsaken place? Was this the next phase of my torture? To rub it in that I’d never be happy with another woman. Never hold Locke again. Never get out of here.
“What are you doing here?” I growled at them. “Where’s Mattie?”
Locke flinched when another woman’s name spilled from my mouth. I caught the sting of hurt and a flash of possessiveness flit behind her eyes. If she loved three men in very different ways, I reckoned she could make room in her worldview for her lovers having ex-girlfriends.
“Was Mattie the crying woman who left?” she asked. “We saw her rushing out.”
I glared at Mads who stood by tense and on edge with his hands curled into fists. He knew what I was capable of and that’s why he didn’t stick around me long enough. He didn’t want to see when things turned ugly. And I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to associate with a monster either.
“That’s her,” I growled.
“What happened, Rane?” Locke asked me as she stayed rooted to a spot three paces away from me, as if she too feared me. I doubted Mads would have let her anywhere near me if I moved closer to her as I wanted.
The words scratched inside my skull. “She left. Ran away. Because she was scared.”
“Why was she scared, Ares?” Mads asked which earned a glare from Locke that told him to back off.
“Because of me,” I said. “What I did. My temper.”
Locke edged closer to me. But I couldn’t look at her. The mess I’d made held all my attention.
“Rane?” She laid a hand on my arm and pain exploded from inside me.
I wheeled around and lashed out to push her away. “Get away!” I screamed. It echoed in the foyer and out into the cul-de-sac.
Startled, she fell backwards. Mads caught her mid fall.
Guilt crackled through me. I’d told myself that I would never hurt Locke. Never show her my dark side. But here I was letting it all flow free. Goddamn this shitty place.
“What the hell, War Hammer?” Mads snarled never taking his eyes off me even as he wound his arms around Locke protectively. “I always said you were a mindless animal, but now you’re proving it!”
“Mads!” Locke snapped while fighting to get free of his arms.
The avatar of Hermes and I had never been on the best of terms, but ever since Locke entered out lives things had gotten better between us. Call it a growing mutual respect sprinkled with an appreciation of his humor and talents. Part of me wondered if this was the cupid affect. Locke’s influence indeed, especially with the way she’d meddled with Byron and me. Whatever it was, Mads didn’t piss me off as much as he used to.
I held my palm in the air. “Keep her away please, brother,” I said shocking myself by the pleading tone in my voice. “I’m just going to hurt her like I hurt Mattie. I’m no good to the both of them.”
Mads tense expression relaxed at the word ‘brother’. Realization stuck within me that this was the first time I’d called him that. Before, I’d only reserved the term for Byron. The contempt that we held for each other broke apart in that very moment. Mads’ reckl
essness and inability to be serious didn’t matter to me anymore. That was just him. Finally, I accepted it. Fuck. This place was really doing a number on me if I was admitting to actually liking Mads.
“Rane,” Locke said having finally jerked her arms free from Mads. “I swear if you send me away, I’m not going to do that thing you like.”
What was she on about? “What thing?” I asked.
The cute way she giggled softened my resolve. “So easily distracted. Well, you won’t find out, if you don’t get out of the way now will you?”
Why did she want me to get out of the way? Slowly, I stepped aside and let her venture deeper into my old house. Mads stiffened again as he followed her down the hall. They, pasted the pictures of Mattie and I from our wedding day. Locke entered the main bedroom, and I hurried down to see what she wanted to do.
I collapsed on the king-sized bed at the center of the room and held my head in my hands.
Locke kneeled in front of me putting a hand on my thigh. I trembled at her touch because of how much I had missed it. “Rane, why are you going to hurt me?”
Fuck. Why was she asking me this? I didn’t want her to see me like this. But I couldn’t stop myself from answering. She seemed to draw the response from me with her magic. “Because I’m monster.” My voice came out resolute and steely.
“That’s not true,” she said brushing my leg and causing bolts of sensation to shoot up from the mere touch. “You once told me that Ares was dedicated to winning battles but also that he concerned himself with getting his men off the battlefield at the end of it. That shows he cares for his men. Wants them to live. Does that sound like a monster?”
Gently, she pressed a finger on my chin to forced my face up so I might meet her gaze.
“You’re wild,” she whispered. “But not a monster. You just can’t see it. Can you?”
Tears glistened in my eyes. Each soothing word hacked away the chains that kept me captive to my regret and grief.
I gazed at Locke like I’d never done so before. The intelligence in her grey eyes. The high crest in her lips. Her smooth, clear skin. How she was built to make a grown man cry. Her curves, her inviting smile, and the long locks that framed her face. The way she was a vision and wasn’t frightened of me. She welcomed the monster in me allowing me to bite her, fuck her, and love her. I didn’t care what she said to me, she was the perfect embodiment of Eros. Full of compassion, understanding the importance of intimacy, and endearment. Yet with that playful streak he was known for as well. This woman took my breath away. Made me want to live again.
If only she were real.
“Tell me about her,” Lock pushed me. I sighed.
“If anyone should know, it’s you,” I said.
“Who was she?”
Why did Locke want to know about Mattie? Why did she care? She wasn’t even real. It was all this place using my memories against me. I bet it intended to use Locke as another form of torture. Another way to rub Mattie in my face. Another way this place could remind me that I’d never changed and never would. I’d always be this monster in Mattie’s eyes and now Locke’s as well. Fuck this place.
Yet, something inside of me prodded me to answer her. “Meredith that’s who she was. We met when I was on leave during my first tour. I was trying to find a place where I could get a meal in Baltimore, and like magic she was there putting her arm through mine as if we had been friends forever.” I smiled as I remembered that night and how good it had been, how we got along so well. “She took me to this amazing Italian place that a friend of hers owned.”
Locke smiled encouraging me to continue. I expected more jealousy to flicker in her eyes but it didn’t. It was almost as if me talking about Meredith soothed her.
“We held our reception there when we got married eight months after that,” I explained. “It was good. I got to be at home for a little while and spend time with her. Everything was all going so well. I’d never had anyone like that in my life before, someone who loved me, who saw me…” I stopped as the words got caught in my throat.
“Then what happened?” Locke asked.
Regret washed over me like a rainstorm. “She saw too much,” I hissed drowning in my misery. “She got to know me. She said I scared her.”
Locke involuntarily gripped my thigh. “She said that?”
Her question left me hollow. Unable to move, I stared at the lemon walls and let the stabbing sensation behind my rib cage pierce my heart. “I loved her, but I had a temper and she was afraid that I would hurt her when I got angry.”
Fuck. I can’t believe I was admitting this. Ashamed, I bit the inside of my cheek and ran a shaky hand through my hair.
“So, she ran,” I said. “Left the house we bought together and never came back. Now this is where I live.” I gestured to the personal hell I now inhabited.
“So, you’ve been carrying this room, this house, and Meredith’s weeping escape around in your heart for years?” Locke asked. “That’s why you haven’t sold your wedding ring. You keep it as a memento of your pain.”
I glared at her. What did she mean? I kept it as a good luck charm. To protect me and keep me alive.
“Doesn’t follow,” Mads’ gruff voice interrupted.
Locke and I looked up at him at the same time. He leaned against the wall. His eyes were wary, while his body remained stiff and alert.
“Mads,” Locke started.
“Don’t worry,” Mads said with a tiny smile forming in the corner of his mouth. “I’m not going to rake him over the coals for something he hasn’t done. I’d rather wait until he’s actually fucked up.”
I frowned at the strange amount of heart in Mads’ words. Don’t tell me that he was here to torture me too.
“What are you talking about radio waves?” I asked, using his nickname. I rose above the grief and the pain to question him.
“The way we saw it happen,” Mads continued with a commanding tone, “is that the love of your life left crying out the door, and then you decided that everything in your life would be better if the outside of it matched how you feel inside: a mess. Something like that?”
I responded with a growl. Locke’s nails dug into me as if she worried against it. In a fight, I could flatten Mads without thinking twice about it, even if he were sorry afterwards that wouldn’t take back any punctured lungs and broken bones.
“No, listen to me, War Hammer,” Mads spoke through clenched teeth. “If it happened like we saw then you didn’t do any of the shit in the living room until after she was gone.”
I shrugged. “Does it matter? I still did it.”
“It does to us,” Locke said. “It wasn’t like you were pitching furniture at her head.”
I stared at them with uncertainly. What game were they playing? Trying to reason with me then draw me into an even darker trap? “She said she was afraid of me!”
Locke squinted. “Did she say why?”
I felt like I sat on a merry-go-round going in circles. “Because I got angry sometimes. Not at her, but at…”
“At the people in your platoon, right?” asked Mads. “Was she frightened of the things that you did while you were overseas? Was she upset when you talked about it?”
“Mads that’s brilliant,” Locke said taking my face in her hands. “Rane, my love, maybe she was frightened, but it wasn’t because of what you did to her. It was because of who you are and what you are.”
I stared at her baffled. “Isn’t that worse?”
“No, not really.” She tilted her head in such a perfect way that made her hair brush against her shoulder. “It just makes her the wrong person for you.”
I opened my mouth to object but Mads who was leaning against the doorjamb raised his hand. “Question from the peanut gallery, but how old was Mattie when you met her?”
What did this have to do with anything? “Eighteen,” I replied.
Mads’ eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh. And how old was she when you got divorced?”
“I’m just going to throw this out there, but maybe the fact that your marriage failed had more to do with the fact that you married pretty young and neither of you necessarily knew what you were getting into.”
“I did!” I protested. I’d have done anything for Mattie. Anything to make her stay. Anything to kill the monster inside me.
Locke raised an eyebrow. “Did you? Because I want you to step aside and really think about it for a second, Rane. When you were with her, when you fell in love with her, could it have anything to do with the fact that you fell into bed together the first night you met and stayed there until you had to return to the base?”
A memory flashed in my mind, Mattie and I rolling around in the bed of our Baltimore hotel room. God, we’d had the kind of passion you only got with your first love. We were always together, never apart, doing gooey romantic shit all the time. Could it have only been infatuation?
Locke edged a little closer to me kneeling between my legs. I still couldn’t bring myself to look her directly in the eye, but I was willing to listen to them both.
“You didn’t talk about a lot of things, did you?” Locke asked softly.
“No, I guess I didn’t,” I admitted.
“Did you hit her?” Locke’s question slapped me hard.
“No, never!” I glared at her for daring to ask that question. This place really was fucking with my mind. Maybe it was best to shut the hell up and not give it anymore power.
But I couldn’t when Locke asked, “Did you ever force her into bed with you?”
“What? No!” Shut up Rane, shut up!
But Locke kept pushing me. All the questions felt like she’d jammed her fingers on my buttons setting me off. “Did you call her names, intentionally make her feel like shit because things weren’t going your way?”
“Of course, I didn’t. Why the hell are you asking me these things?”
Fear and hope mingled in her gaze. “Because you’re acting as if you did. You’re punishing yourself for something that you never did. And would never do.”
