by J. P. Comeau
He grinned. “Still haven't told them yet?”
I shook my head. “No. But, they know something’s up.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dad randomly invited me over on my lunch hour to spend time with him. He knew I was seeing someone, and I know it’s only a matter of time before someone blabs to him what’s really going on.”
“Ah. So, you want me and Brenden to keep the girls silent.”
“Among other things. I think Mom and Dad should hear it from Roxy and myself. They’ve invited us over for dinner, so I just need to work out the kinks of when that’s going to happen.”
Zane leaned back in his chair. “And how does all of this make you feel?”
I snickered. “What are you now? My therapist?”
He shrugged. “I’m your brother. So, I might as well be your therapist.”
I smirked. “Asshole.”
He grinned. “Jerk.”
I crossed my ankle over my knee. “Really, though. I feel a bit lost at sea right now.”
“I mean, are you happy?”
“Of course I’m happy.”
“No, no. I mean, are you really happy? As in, if Roxy hadn’t gotten pregnant, would you still want to be with her?”
“For fuck’s sake, what kind of question is that?”
He shrugged. “A good one. So, what’s the answer?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Of course, I’d still want to be with her. I lo--.”
I caught the words before they flew out, but it didn’t stop Zane from smiling.
“Don’t worry. I keep secrets better than Karina.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fuck you.”
He leaned forward. “I’m happy for you, Clint. But, I know this is also new territory for you.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. Shoot.”
“How did you make Karina comfortable during all of this? How did you reassure her that you’d be there, no matter what?”
He paused. “You mean, other than proposing to her?”
I glared at him. “Yes. Other than that.”
He clicked his tongue. “I kept telling her.”
“That’s it?”
He nodded. “That’s it.”
“You just kept reminding her that you weren’t going anywhere?”
“Yes. That, and I proposed. And I asked her to move in.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
He chuckled. “Hey, you asked.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I don’t want Roxy to feel like there will be a point that she does this alone. Even if things don’t work out romantically for us, I want her to know that I’m not abandoning our child. Ever. She’s never going to do this alone. Ever. And I’m concerned she doesn’t know that.”
“Then, tell her.”
“What if that smothers her, though?”
“Then, only tell her every other day.”
I sighed. “I’m serious, Zane.”
“So am I. Look, Clint. You’re doing that overthinking thing again that you’re so good at. You don’t have to overthink this. Just spend time with Roxy. If she calls, pick up. If she calls in a meeting? Excuse yourself and pick up. Answer her texts. Send her a gift every now and again to let her know you’re thinking of her. Do the kinds of shit men in relationships do.”
“You mean, treat her like I treated my ex-wife?”
“Treat her better. Because you know damn good and well she’s better than that sorry excuse for a woman.”
I sighed. “What if she’s not, though?”
He blinked. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Unfortunately, I’m not. What if I do everything right, and she still leaves? What if I put all of this energy into us, and she still steps out? What, then? And there’s a child in the mix, to boot.”
He chuckled. “You really don’t know what to do with yourself right now, do you?”
“And that’s funny to you?”
“A bit.”
“Care to enlighten me as to why my misery is funny?”
“Oh, come on. You’re afraid, but not miserable.”
“I’m not scared one damn bit.”
He grinned. “Could’ve fooled me.”
I shook my head. “I knew it was a mistake coming to talk to you.”
“Now hold on just a minute, asshole. There’s nothing wrong with being scared, now. You’ve been handed a shit stack of cards in life. No one denies that. But, if you’re really going to do this right with Roxy, then you have to be all in. No matter what it might cost you. You need to be there to listen to her, you need to talk about how you feel sometimes, and you need to never deviate yourself.”
I pointed at him. “I’d never step out on Roxy, and you know it.”
“Yes, I know it. But does she?”
I blinked. “You think she thinks I’m going to cheat on her?”
“I’m saying that you’re not the only one to have your heartbroken, and you’re certainly not the only one who’s scared in this scenario. Clint, Roxy is unwedded, pregnant, living by herself on a terrible side of town, and working a job she’s literally learning along the way. If you think for one second that she isn’t scared? Then, you’re the idiot in this situation.”
I blinked. “Shit. I never looked at it like that.”
“When do you see her next?”
“Uh, uh… tonight. She’s coming over to my place tonight.”
“Then, tonight would be a great time to talk with her about living arrangements once the baby comes. You know she’s thinking about it, and you know it’s worrying her. So, go ahead and tackle one worry at a time. You’ll be surprised how much it abates your own worries to help heal hers.”
I stood to my feet. “You know what? You’re right, for once.”
He paused. “For once?”
I chuckled. “Don’t push it.”
He held up his hands. “Fine, fine. I won’t. But, don’t think I’m not calling you in the morning for details.”
I walked toward his office door. “Just don’t call too early. I hate your voice in the mornings.”
He laughed. “Noted. I’ll wait until you get to your office, then.”
I slipped out of Zane’s office and headed back to mine. But, on the drive over, I heard my phone go off. It kept dinging, one right after another. When I finally reached the stoplight, I yanked my phone out.
My stomach plummeted to my toes.
Brutus: Still on for our yearly beer call?
Ashton: You know damn good, and well, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.
Riley: Yep. Wife’s got the kids for the night. I’ll be there.
Brutus: Clint, you in?
Ashton: A beer for our fallen brother?
A horn honked, pulling me out of my trance, and I slammed the gas pedal to the floor. I tossed my phone into the passenger’s seat and made a quick U-turn, cutting off the flow of traffic. Work wasn’t happening today. Not after those text messages.
How the fuck did it slip my mind?
Today marked another anniversary since my best friend had been blown to bits overseas. Today marked another anniversary of the day I had lost the only man in my life that ever meant something to me. Today marked another anniversary of the day I had to knock on his wife’s door and tell her that the father of their children had died, right there in my arms.
And I needed something stronger than the whiskey I had with my father at lunch.
19
Roxy
I pulled up to Clint’s place with a massive smile on my face. Mostly because I was excited to see him. But, partially because I bought a yummy-looking blackberry pie, and I wanted to smear it on my body and have him lick it off me.
Well, maybe not that intense. But, the damn thing smelled delicious, and I was ready to dig into it.
However, when I got to Clint’s place, something was wrong. I found his apartment door ajar, and I smelled the heavy scent of booze filte
ring through the crack. My gut turned over onto itself at the smell. It made me sick to my stomach. But, I also knew something was wrong.
Something was very, very wrong.
“Clint?” I called out.
I eased the door open with my foot and found him slumped against the couch.
“Clint? Sweetheart?” I asked softly.
I watched him throw back the rest of the amber liquid in his glass before something tumbled to the floor. He leaned forward, slamming his glass onto the crooked coffee table, but not once did he look at me. I walked into his studio apartment and closed the door with my foot, trying to swallow down my own bile.
When he finally turned to look at me, I saw nothing but sorrow in his features.
“Oh, sweetheart,” I whispered.
I dropped the food by the door and rushed to his side. I sat down, taking his trembling hand in mine. His cheeks were wet, almost as if he had been crying. And as I brushed his tears away, I heard a voice wafting up from the floor.
“Hello? Is someone there?”
I paused. “Uh, hello?”
“Down here. Clint’s phone.”
I eyed Clint curiously before I bent down and picked up his phone. Which was what had apparently dropped to the floor. And when I turned it over, I saw a video feed with three other guys staring back at me.
“Uh, hi?” I asked.
“Are you Roxy?”
I stared at the man with a scar running down his left cheek. “Yeah. I am. Who are you?”
Scarface waved. “I’m Riley. The one with the blonde hair is Ashton. And the big guy with the crooked nose is Brutus.”
“Hey,” they both said as they waved.
I looked over at Clint. “How do you guys know each other?”
Clint didn’t even look at me as Riley answered my question.
“We were all on the same SEAL team.”
I looked back at the phone. “Do you mind if I ask you guys what you were talking about? Clint doesn’t look very well.”
Brutus spoke up. “Bryce.”
I blinked. “Who’s Bryce?”
Ashton sighed. “Oh, boy.”
“Clint?” Riley asked.
“Hang up the phone,” he murmured.
I peeked over at him. “Honey, I really think--.”
He whipped his eyes over toward mine. “I said, hang up the fucking phone.”
I did as he asked without hesitation, though I felt bad for the other guys on the line. I tossed his phone onto the coffee table before I took his hand within mine, scooting ever so closely to the man I’d come to care for. I smoothed my hand over his chest. I pressed my palm against his heart. I watched his eyes as they panned across the room, looking for nothing in particular.
Then, I sat there and waited until he was ready to talk.
“Bryce was the best SEAL I’d ever come across,” he said.
I nodded as I sat there silently, listening to whatever he had to say.
“Bryce was my buddy. We went through BUD/S training together.”
“What’s that?”
“Part of specialized training for underwater maneuvers, and we took the SEAL test together. Damn near puked up our guts together after all the salt water we swallowed. But we did it. Together. And we were supposed to do this together, too.”
I grinned. “What? Have a baby?”
He slowly looked over at me. “Life, Roxy. We were supposed to do life together.”
I cupped his cheek. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Do you need to talk about it?”
“The guys think so.”
I slid into his lap. “Then, maybe we should try talking about it. Just a little bit. Okay?”
His eyes stared off into the distance. “His favorite color was red.”
“It’s a good color.”
“I hate that color now.”
“Why?”
“Because it was the last color he was covered in before I had to pull his lifeless body into the nook.”
“The nook?”
His eyes found mine. “A chinook?”
I blinked. “What’s that?’
“The helicopters with two blades?”
“Oh, oh, oh! Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what its name was.”
He shrugged. “It’s fine. Most people don’t.”
I ran my fingers through his hair. “What happened out there? When Bryce died?”
He sniffled. “Gunfire. And lots of it.”
“Were you on a mission?”
His arm wrapped around me tightly. “An overnight mission.”
“What do you mean?”
“It means we were pulled out of our beds in the middle of the night for a rescue mission.”
“Oh.”
His head fell back. “We choppered into this small, innocent town in the middle of some deserted nowhere. After a while, they all start to look the same, but the mission was simple: find our man, recover him, and take out anyone who tried to stop us.”
“So, someone was captured.”
He slowly raised his head to look at me. “Yeah. Bryce was.”
I swallowed hard. “Bryce had been captured?”
He nodded. “By the enemy. He was on a mission with another SEAL team to recover some stollen weapons and ammo, and he got spotted. Took us damn near five months to track him down, but we finally got to him. And things were supposed to be simple, Roxy. We were supposed to go in, take out the guards, get Bryce, and get the hell back to the nook.”
I cupped both of his cheeks. “What happened, Clint?”
His eyes watered. “They came out of nowhere, Roxy. Dozens of them. Men, screaming at the top of their lungs while spraying bullets everywhere they could. I mean, they didn’t even have a target. They didn’t care who they picked off, who they killed, or whose blood they spilled. All they wanted was to take out as many of us as possible.”
“I’m so sorry, Clint.”
His arm started trembling around me. “I picked off as many as I could. I swear I did. I kept my men close as we ignored the women and children gurgling on their own blood around us. It was hell on earth. I’ll never forget the young girls reaching out for us, begging us to rescue them.”
“Why couldn’t you?”
He shook his head slowly. “Always focus on the mission. Nothing’s more important than the mission. That’s what they teach you, and that’s all I understood. All I knew was saving Bryce. All I knew was getting him out of there. Because of that, women and children died that never should have understood the horrors of war in the first place.”
I felt my own tears dripping down my face. “My God.”
“All of that, for nothing. All of that death, for a failed mission. By the time we got to Bryce, he was already dead. Covered in nothing but red. His body had been flung onto another soldier’s. Almost as if he were trying to protect someone. It’s funny, that’s so like Bryce. Giving whatever he had to in order to save someone else. It’s what made him such a good SEAL. It’s what made him such a good friend, Roxy. And he’s gone. He’s gone because I couldn't get there quickly enough, and I let dozens of women and children die in the process. For nothing but a failure.”
I turned his head toward me. “Clint, none of that is your fault.”
“How can you say that?”
I gazed deeply into his eyes. “You didn't kill Bryce. You didn’t kill those people. They did. They captured him. They’re the ones that did this.”
He sniffled. “Then, why the hell doesn’t it feel that way?”
I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him close. “I don’t know, Clint. But, I do know you won’t ever have to experience this sadness alone ever again. Okay?”
He hugged me tightly. “Oh, God, Roxy. I miss him so fucking much.”
I’d never heard a grown man cry before. But that night? I not only heard a grown man cry, but I felt it, too. I felt his tears as they stained my shirt. I felt his trembling bo
dy as he held me close. I heard his hiccups and his sobs and his wheezing as his nose clogged, and he had to cough to breathe. It broke my heart. It shattered my soul. I wanted to do something to take his pain away. To help him see that he could live his life in honor of his fallen friend instead of being trapped in the memory of Bryce’s death.
“I’ve got you. It’s okay,” I whispered.
“Why couldn't I get to him quickly enough?” he sobbed.
I kissed his tears away. “I don’t know. I don’t have answers. I can’t even sympathize. But, you’re not alone, Clint. Your SEAL buddies get it. They lost him, too. And you won’t ever have to deal with this alone, because you have me. Got it?”
His eyes found mine again. “Promise?”
I smiled softly. “I promise with all my belly.”
He snickered. “It looks great on you, you know.”
“Bah, you’re just saying that.”
His eyes grew stern. “No, I’m not. Curves have never looked better on a woman. And I’ve seen plenty of them.”
I paused. “Thanks…?”
He wiped at his face. “Sorry. Fucking hell, I’m so so--.”
“Clint Hearthstone, if you apologize one more time, I swear I’ll slap you myself.”
He snickered. “Good luck. My reflexes are outstanding.”
I grinned. “That’s a promise?”
He sighed. “I’ve never told anyone about that night before.”
I straddled him. “I’m honored that you felt comfortable enough to tell me.”
“Thank you for not running.”
“Thank you for letting me in.”
He licked his lips. “How about we just put all of that food in the fridge for later and order something in? Maybe pizza?”
I kissed the tip of his nose. “Under one condition.”
“Name it.”
“We eat it in bed, and you keep telling me about Bryce.”
He shook his head. “I’d love nothing more than to tell you about him, Roxy. Because I really think he would’ve loved you.”
“Good. Then, it’s settled. You order the pizza, I’ll get this stuff in the refrigerator.”
As I stood from his lap, offering my hands to him, I helped pull him onto his feet. His arms cloaked my back, and his lips crashed against mine in a passionate kiss that stole my breath away.
