Fighting Absolution

by Kate McCarthy

  I coughed and choked on my next exhale, eyes watering. “First of all,” I rasped, scowling, “I’m not a great big lump. Second of all, in love with who?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Don’t give me that shit, Brooks. I’ve been where you are. In fact, I recall a certain someone telling me to grow a ballsack once. He also said I wouldn’t find the answer on the ceiling when he caught me staring at it. And when I asked him the answer to what, he said to whether she loves me or not.” Ryan took another puff of his cigar. “Seems to me you like to go balls out when giving other people advice but you’re just a big ol’ coward when it comes to taking it yourself.”

  Smoke huffed from my flared nostrils. “Fuck you, Kendall.”

  “No. Fuck you.”

  I rose from my chair, my back to Ryan, the image of Jamie in my head as I leaned my forearms on the timber railing of the deck. Fucking hell, she was beautiful. A perfectly flawed little asshole, but she was my little asshole. I tried so hard not to fall in love with her, but it was like scooping water out of a sinking ship with my bare hands. I was so fucking sunk.

  Bringing the cigar to my lips, I drew in a deep mouthful of smoke before exhaling, watching it drift out on the breeze. “You remember that time you said we were all just held together with duct tape? That we were hoping the army would perform some kind of miracle and piece us back together but all it did was make the cracks inside us bigger?”

  Ryan stepped up beside me, resting his forearms on the railing same as me, and he looked out into the yard beyond. “Jamie patched up the cracks,” he said, his voice gruff because he knew. He’d been there too.

  “She’s my duct tape.”

  Ryan snorted and a chuckle rose up from somewhere deep inside me. It built and built until I was laughing my ass off, Ryan laughing alongside me, choking on smoke and shaking his head.

  Finlay came out to check on us. “What’s going on out here?”

  Ryan waved a hand through the cloudy haze. “Brooks found his duct tape,” he said, and it set us off all over again.

  Finlay looked at us like we’d lost our minds, and I’m pretty sure we had, but it was a good feeling. “Well, good for you, Kyle.”

  She went back inside, and we went back to our seats and cigars. “You know what I did?” I said, cutting through a comfortable few minutes of quiet.

  “What?”

  “I got her a present. I was going to send it, but damned if I want to see the look on her face when she gets it.”

  “What is it?”

  I told him, and it took me a good half hour explaining the full story behind it.

  “And that set you back how much?”

  “The entire deposit I tucked aside for my house on the beach.” The very one I talked about all the time. My dream. Every penny earned and squirrelled away, gone because I was a fool who’d do anything to make her happy, to fix what was broken inside of her.

  “You’re a goddamn idiot,” Ryan said.

  I suck on my cigar for a moment. “I don’t regret it. It was worth every cent and more.”

  “Jesus, Brooks. Some days I think there may just be a heart inside that egotistical exterior of yours.”

  “I don’t know whether to feel insulted or not.”

  He reached across and slapped me on the back. “You know what you should do?”

  I leant forward, eager for some advice. “What?”

  “Hand deliver it.”

  The thought sent jitters through me. “You think?” I asked, though I knew he was right. I didn’t want regrets. I didn’t want to wake up one day and realise I should have tried. Jamie was worth the fight. Right to the end.

  “There’s just one thing you need to do first,” he warned, rising from his chair.

  “What?” I stubbed my cigar out, getting to my feet.

  “Go build your Death Star, you fucking infant.”

  35

  JAMIE

  The front door swings open beneath my hand, and the scowl falls from my face, shock rooting me to the floor.

  It’s not Connor.

  Kyle is standing on the other side of the door, rain pelting him from all directions, hair plastered to his face, a bag slung over his shoulder. He’s dressed in a cotton tee shirt and jeans, the drenched fabric highlighting the thick, heavy muscle of his body. Goose bumps run the length of his arms as he stares at me, shivering, water running in his eyes—eyes that hold more heat than a bonfire. They eat me up as if he’s starved.

  Everything inside me ignites. “Kyle?”

  “Jamie,” he croaks.

  My pulse skyrockets and my heart threatens to pound from my chest. How did I ever think I was strong? Because I’m ready to launch myself at him with just a single heated look. “What are you doing here?”

  “I needed to see you,” he says, rain spattering his face faster than he can wipe it away. “I know I’m not Jake. I know I’m not the one you wanted.”

  My brows knit, and I open the door wide so he can step inside, out of the downpour, only he doesn’t move. “Kyle—”

  “Just hear me out. Please,” he begs, swallowing, swiping at his face. “Jake is gone. He’s gone. And it still hurts like a motherfucker. I still wake every day wanting to tell him something, or make him laugh just to see that stupid movie-star smile of his because it made me feel like I was part of something special. Then I remember that he’s gone and it’s like a punch to the goddamn gut.” Kyle raises his voice over the din of the rain. “Jake wanted you. I know it. He saw a life with you. Only he never got to have it. And I shouldn’t be here, trying to take that life for myself, but I can’t help it. I’m a selfish bastard. I’m not good like Jake was. I can be childish and impatient, and I can be really fucking stupid. I have nothing to offer you. But I’m here. Jake might be gone, but I’m still here. And I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.”

  Kyle finishes with a heaving breath, and my heart is pounding so hard in my chest it hurts. “Are you done?” I ask, my voice a rasp, hoping he’s finished because I need his mouth on mine.

  He shoves at the wet hair on his forehead. “I’m in love with you, Jamie Murphy, and I don’t even know your middle name.”

  His declaration steals the air from my lungs. I reach out, quaking on the inside as I fist his shirt and drag him inside. He drops his bag, kicking the door shut behind him, barely catching his breath before I push him against the back of it. My hands grab his face, pulling his mouth down to mine.

  “It’s Juliet,” I say against his lips before I kiss him with impatience, my tongue thrusting inside his mouth, frantic and violent.

  “What?” he mumbles, kissing me back. Heat explodes between my legs, along my veins, inside my heart. Our mouths become desperate, tongues rubbing, devouring each other, harder and faster because it’s not enough.

  I take a breath. “My name. Jamie Juliet Murphy.”

  He kisses me again, fingers grabbing at the knot of my robe. My hands tug at his shirt. He lets me go, tugging it over his head. It falls to the ground with a wet slap before his lips are on mine again. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  He unknots the tie and my robe falls away. “What’s your middle name?”

  “Edgar.”

  My chest shudders with a chuckle that can’t get free because Kyle’s mouth is back on mine, lips pressing hard, consuming me in the best possible way. He breaks off to peel away my shirt, and my laugh gets loose.

  “Shut up,” he mumbles, his palms chilled from the outdoors as they land on my boobs, making me flinch.

  “I can’t help it,” I gasp, my head tipping back, a giggle escaping. “It’s just so unsexy.”

  His fingers tweak my nipples, a little too hard, but it shoots pleasure straight down my belly like an arrow finding its mark.

  “Kyle Edgar Brooks,” I say.

  “Do you mind? I’m trying to fuck you here.”

  My giggles only get worse. “Then you need to do better.�
��

  “I think it sounds distinguished,” he says, affronted, dropping to his knees before me. “It’s the name of my grandfather.”

  My laughter dies a quick death. “Your mother’s father?”

  “Yes,” he says, hooking his thumbs in the sides of my pink cotton knickers. He slides them down, and I lift my feet one at a time, stepping out of them, my hands holding tight to his rounded shoulders.

  “You know what?”

  His lips press against my stomach, warm and a little tickly, and I let out a breathy moan. “What?”

  “I love it.”

  Kyle dips his tongue inside my belly button, and my head tips back, my toes curling. “You’re just saying that now because you feel like a dick.”

  “I’m sorry.” He rises to his feet, and I tilt my head to meet his eyes. “I am a dick, but I wouldn’t lie. I do love it. It’s perfect. Your name is perfect.”

  I stretch up, touching my mouth to his, my hands going to the button on his jeans. His breath is shaky against my lips, and I love it. I love the vulnerability he doesn’t hide from me and the need that darkens his eyes.

  Lowering the zip, I sink to my knees the same way he did just moments earlier. Kyle watches as I peel the wet denim down his legs, along with his boxer-briefs. He kicks them away and his cock springs free, filling my palms, hard and smooth. I open my mouth, taking him in, surrounding the hard flesh with warm, wet heat.

  He groans and his head tips back. “Fuck.”

  His fingers fist in my hair, tugging, his cock rock solid and his abs shuddering with restraint. I swirl my tongue, whimpering around the hard length of him. The throb between my legs grows bigger, a thrumming steady ache, his pleasure increasing my own.

  “You need to stop,” he rasps, trying to step free.

  I pull away with a lick, taking him in my hand. “I don’t want to.”

  “I’ll come.”

  My fist moves up and down, stroking, and I slide my tongue around the wide, velvety head. “Good.”

  “Not yet.”

  Kyle grips me beneath my armpits and hauls me upright. I could fight him, but I’m too far gone. I need him inside me. I’m grabbed and pushed up against the wall behind me, face-first, his breath hot and harsh against my neck. “Jamie,” he rasps, his hands everywhere, cupping my breasts, pinching a nipple, the other sliding over my hip and between my legs.

  He leaves me for a brief moment. I turn my head, watching as he fumbles through his pocket of his jeans. He pulls a condom packet free and tears it open with his teeth. I take a deep, shuddering breath as he rolls it down quickly. Then he’s back on me, thick fingers probing, finding me swollen and wet. I cry out, my legs almost giving out beneath me.

  “I want to be gentle,” he says, grunting, his breath harsh and hot against my neck. “But I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  I moan climbs my throat. “I don’t want gentle.”

  Kyle growls and a thick finger pushes up inside me. Air leaves my lungs in a rush as a second one joins the first. His cock pushes up against the crack of my ass as he finger-fucks me until I’m a quivering ball of incoherent need. “Please,” I gasp. “Dammit, Kyle.” I push my hips back, rubbing, begging.

  He removes his fingers, replacing them with the blunt head of his cock. He pushes inside me, driving forward until he’s all the way in, grinding against me with a ragged groan.

  My hands splay flat against the wall, panting, revelling in the feeling of fullness. He draws back and thrusts in again. It’s not soft and it’s not gentle. We fuck. Hard. The door rattles and my body shudders and jerks against it. And when it’s over my legs give out, leaving me a breathless, boneless mess.

  His hands wrap around my hips as he pulls out, and I’m swept up in his arms before I sink to the floor.

  Kyle carries me to bed, and we fall in a tangle of loose, sweaty limbs. “That wasn’t how I wanted this to go,” he says, still catching his breath.

  I twist to my side so I can see him. He looks tired, bone tired, like he hasn’t slept in weeks. I swipe my thumb across his cheek, unable to stop myself from touching him. “How did you want this to go?”

  He tucks an arm around my middle and tugs me closer, pressing our bodies together. “I thought maybe I could take you out on a proper date. Talk to you like a normal person.” His mouth kicks up in a half smile. “Instead, I blurt out a bunch of shit and fuck you against the wall like an animal.”

  My hand falls to his shoulder, fingers trailing down along his tattooed bicep. “I like the way you fuck me.”

  Kyle lifts up on his elbow, eyes dropping to his groin. “I need to take care of this.”

  He climbs from the bed and in a blinding moment of clarity I remember the pregnancy test. It sure as shit has been longer than three minutes since I peed on that stick, but I don’t know the outcome yet and I don’t want him finding it first. I’m not ready to explain. Not yet.

  Thinking Kyle is heading for the bathroom, I launch from the bed, chasing after him. Except he goes to the kitchen, tying the condom off and dropping it into the trash bin by the counter. He turns and almost stumbles over the top of me, not realising I was right behind him. “What are you doing?”

  I hesitate. “I’m getting a drink. Want one?”

  “Got any whiskey?”

  I busy myself at the counter, unscrewing the cap of the bottle, pouring in a couple of fingers, putting the lid back on.

  Kyle presses up behind me, and I feel the stirring of his cock against the crack of my ass. Need flares between my legs. “Again?”

  “I’ll be gentle this time,” he says from behind me, ducking his head and pressing soft, fluttery kisses along my shoulder. I shiver with pleasure. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I bring the glass to my nose, breathing it in as if the scent of alcohol will stop me from melting into a puddle on the floor. “You could never hurt me, Kyle. Not even if you tried.”

  His palms skim around my waist, warm as they rub across my belly, soothing and gentle. I sink back against him, my mind on the possibility of a baby. Kyle’s baby. Part of him growing inside me. Something curls around my heart and squeezes. “Oh god.”

  He pauses, his lips lifting from my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  I lower the glass and turn, handing him the whiskey.

  “Nothing. I just … I think I’ll have a water.”

  We finish up in the kitchen, and Kyle makes good on his promise, being gentle the second time, pouring love into his every caress. We finish and his arm twines around my middle, tucking me close. I tumble headlong into a deep sleep.

  “You’re going to be an amazing mother, Jamie.”

  I shake my head. I’m at the beach, walking along the line of the shore, waves rushing up and over my feet, bubbling up against my ankles. Everything is hazy. And somewhere deep down inside my conscious, I know I’m dreaming because I’m not alone. Why else would Jake be talking to me?

  I turn my head. He’s walking along beside me, hands in his pockets, his face so wonderfully familiar my chest aches and my eyes burn hot with grief.

  “I don’t want children,” I find myself saying to him, swallowing, blinking.

  His green eyes crinkle at the corners. “That’s what you tell yourself.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You do, but you think you can only have one or the other. The army or family. As if you can’t have both.”

  “Jake …” I shake my head. “I can’t have both. It’s not possible.”

  “But you can’t keep going the way you are, can you? Aren’t you tired of acting like you’re made of armour? Do you really think you can find forgiveness for your past by fighting in some war?” He stops, looking out across the ocean. I stop with him. “Does being caught up in an IED blast balance the scales? Does being assaulted in Kandahar make everything okay now?”

  “No.” I shake my head, my jaw beginning to tremble. “It doesn’t.”

  He turns his head, watching me with ey
es that see right through me. “Do you know why that is?”

  “Why?”

  “Because it wasn’t your fault your father died. How can you not see that? He made choices, same as you did, that led to his downfall, and you’re making the same ones. He should have got out before it wrecked him. And here you are, travelling down the same path. If you keep going the way you are, it’s going to wreck you too.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Jake starts walking backwards, away from me, his steps slow, his image fading before my eyes. A growing sense of panic climbs my throat. “What are you saying, Jake? That I have to choose? The army or Kyle? How is that fair?” I shout.

  He shakes his head at me, almost transparent now. “There’s only one thing you can choose, Jamie, and when you do, everything will fall into place. You’ll see.”

  I catch the flash of his smile, and then he’s gone.

  “Jake!” I scream, yelling into the wind, tears streaming down my face. “What am I supposed to choose?”

  His voice comes from nowhere, surrounding me. “The one thing you’ve deserved all along, my precious Jamie.” I spin around, searching, but there’s no one here. There’s nothing, just an endless ocean.

  “Jake. Come back,” I beg, sobs cracking open my chest. I drop to my knees, fingers clawing into the sand as if I can drag him back to my side. “Please.”

  “You know I can’t do that. There’s no changing the past,” he says, his voice faint now, fading on the wind. “But you can always change the ending.”

  I wake with a start, breathing hard, chest aching. I swipe at my face, turning my head. Muted light streams through the partially open blinds. Dawn is here.

  Kyle lies beside me, his sleep heavy and deep.

  “I’m love with you, Jamie Murphy, and I don’t even know your middle name.”

  He came all this way just to tell me. I fall back on the bed, my eyes burning.

  “You keep talking like nobody needs you, Little Warrior, but I do. I need you.”

  All this time.

  “I wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for you.”