Liberty (19 page)

* * *

Lexy was crying. No, more than crying. She was sobbing again. Sobs of pain. Something was happening to her. Someone was hurting her. He started to run through the house. He would kill for her. He would kill whoever was hurting her.

A cold fury came over him as he spotted a man shaking his wife.

“You’re a mutt, Lexy. A whore.”

“Get off of me,” she screamed.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” The man raised his large hand and slapped her hard in the face. He watched as her head snapped back.

“Lexy!” he screamed, but when he tried to move his feet were stuck to the ground. “I’m here,” he called to her. “I didn’t leave you.”

“Help me,” she cried. He wanted to help her. He was trying to. He couldn’t move.

“Leave her alone,” he roared. “I’ll kill you, you bastard.” The man who was beating his wife turned around to face him and he froze.

“You can’t kill yourself.” The man looked just like him. The same scars decorated his face. The man was him.

“No,” he screamed. He wouldn’t hurt her... He couldn’t. It happened then.

It.

The explosion. The fire. The pain ripping through his head. He saw the men in his unit bleeding around him and a dying soldier. The same man who was beating his wife.

“Lexy!”

“I’m here, honey.” He heard her voice nearby and when he opened his eyes she was there by his bed. He sat up and grabbed her hand. It was just a dream. Thank God. It was just a dream.

“Lexy.” He still felt panicky. “I dreamt that...” He drifted off, unable to tell her what he saw.

“It was the explosion, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Tears ran down his face. He hated the weakness. He hated himself. He hated that he needed her. He had taken the day off work and driven Lexy to see her brother just to be with her. They didn’t speak on the long car ride there or back, or at all that day, but he tortured himself with her presence because being away from her was more painful. And he knew that his time with her was coming to an end.

“Sweetheart.” She cupped his face in her hands and kissed his wet cheeks. He could feel the franticness of her kisses. She must feel it, too—she must know that their life together was ending.

She pulled her nightgown off, revealing her nude body to him. That shocked him out of his miserable thoughts for a moment. He stared at her in the darkness, just making out the shape of her curves in the moonlight.

“I’m here for you.” She climbed into bed beside him, hugging him close to her body. “You aren’t there anymore. You’re with me now. You won’t ever feel that pain again.”

“They didn’t survive, Lex.”

“No,” she admitted. “They found you next to another soldier. He didn’t make it, but you did.” She kissed his neck, his chin, the scar on his cheek. “You came back for me.” Her hand wandered to his boxers, where she began to stroke him until he was hard.

“What are you doing?” he asked, shocked by her boldness.

“You need this.” She came over him, taking him inside her warm wet space. “Go ahead. Make love to me.”

He hesitated for a moment, not believing this was happening.

“Ry.” She shifted her body so that her breasts were pressed against him. She moved her hips, unsure of herself. He knew she had never made love this way. She was clumsy with her rhythm and for a moment he saw her embarrassment. She shouldn’t be embarrassed. She was beautiful and selfless and no woman had ever turned him on like this before.

He grasped her hips and rolled her onto her back, pushing himself deep inside her. Heaven.

“Don’t hold back, Ryan. Please.”

He wouldn’t. He was too far gone, too emotionally raw to hold back now. She wrapped her legs around him and relaxed beneath him, allowing him to use her body. His strokes were strong and rhythmic, not meant to tantalize, but to make him feel—feel her, feel comfort and calm, and anything other than terror.

“My husband,” she murmured, which caused him to lose all control. He came hard inside her.

“I love you,” he said into her neck. He wasn’t even sure if she heard him, but it didn’t matter because he did. He would always love her even if he regained his memory. Even if he learned that this life was not his own. She brought him back from death.

* * *

The next morning Ryan reached over wanting to feel his wife’s warm body, but she wasn’t there. The only thing he felt was the empty space where she should be. Last night she had come to him, comforted him, gave him her sweet body with no apprehension, no hesitation, and afterward she slept in his arms. But now she was gone and he was confused. Had it been a dream like the one he thought she rescued him from?

No, the sheets smelled like sex, their sex, and her sweet scent. Why had she gone? He thought maybe this would be a turning point in their broken marriage.

He got out of bed looking for her in her bedroom, but she wasn’t there. She wasn’t in the house at all. He swore violently. Nothing had changed. He was going to leave here. Next week he would be gone.

Chapter Eighteen

M
ary had called Lexy the night before, just as she and Ryan had gone to their separate beds, to tell her Ryan was going to go back into the marines. Lexy’s blood froze. She knew things weren’t good between them and she knew the fault lay with her. Going back was extreme. To risk life and limb just to get away from her was extreme. And it hurt her.

He taught her how to laugh, showed her how a man was supposed to treat a woman. She knew they weren’t going to last forever, but she was grateful for the time they did share together. When she left him she would leave her bitterness behind and her anger, as well. But Ryan was ruining her plan by leaving before she could. He was going to get himself killed just because he hated her.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Deidre, the other waitress working that night at the Calloway, asked.

“Nothing. I was just thinking.”

They were short-staffed since two of the regular waitresses called out with the flu. Lexy agreed to work a twelve-hour shift right after she left the library. She was used to working a lot. And after she left Ryan she would have to start working long hours again to make ends meet. But that was fine with her. There wouldn’t be much else in her life.

“We’re really slow tonight,” she commented. “It seems like every time they call you they don’t need you.”

“It’ll pick up. The bowling league is heading this way when they finish.”

Deidre looked over at Lexy, who wore a pink tank top and a denim skirt that Ryan had bought for her. “I should probably change, then. I won’t get many tips with you looking like that.”

Lexy looked down at herself. The tank top was simple. Light pink, slightly faded from the wash. “I don’t look so great. Your boobs are bigger than mine.”

“Mine aren’t real, honey.” Deidre rolled her eyes. “And you got your hair down. I’d kill my mama for hair like that.”

She wore it down as an impulse. This morning she wore it braided, but when she got here six hours ago she’d unraveled her braid and finger-combed her wild hair into place, thinking about Ryan as she did.

“My husband likes it down,” she told Deidre, not meaning to.

Last night she had offered her body to him after he had a nightmare. She knew he often dreamed about the war, but he had never called out for her before, and he never knew that she had often snuck into his room at night and stroked his hair until he fell into a more restful sleep. She wouldn’t tell him that, either. She didn’t want him to know that his nightmares haunted her, too.

“You mean the husband who’s been sitting in the corner for the past half hour?”

“Ryan’s here?” She whipped around and spotted him in the darkest corner of the bar at a small table. He looked brutally angry. He had always come here when she worked to make sure she was safe. Somehow it surprised her tonight. Before she went to him she had the cook prepare him a cheeseburger and a glass of cream soda.

“I didn’t know you were here,” she said, approaching him.

“You were in the back when I came,” he said stiffly.

“Are you hungry?” She set the food on the table, not waiting for an answer. He had been angry with her since their first failed attempt at lovemaking. Now it seemed worse.

“I didn’t get your message until a little a while ago. They didn’t tell me at work.”

“I called when you were out,” she explained. “Damn it, Ryan.” She sat on his lap and folded her arms around him. She was hurting. They both were. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into his neck. “I never thought I would apologize to you...but here I am.” She looked up at him, his face still hard. He said nothing, only buried his fingers into her loose hair.

“You did this for me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” she whispered, trying to reconcile the fact that he wasn’t her husband. She had no right to feel the way she was feeling. She had no right to keep him.

“You care about me.”

She said nothing to that, just kissed his mouth tentatively at first because she wasn’t used to initiating kisses. He held his mouth still to begin with, but she kept kissing, kept moving her lips over his, running her tongue over the soft place that she used to rub cherry lip balm on.

Eventually he gave in and kissed her back, a deep soul-sucking kiss that left her breathless.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked when she broke away for air.

Of course I am,
she wanted to say,
but not for the reasons you think.
She studied his face, taking time to kiss the scars there.

“You’ve come so far,” she said more to herself than to him.

She remembered when he couldn’t speak or walk. She remembered when he needed her. Her lips trailed his chin and down his neck and then back up to his mouth again. He was a beautiful kisser, and he made her feel precious and beautiful whenever their lips touched.

“Lexy,” he murmured. His expression hadn’t softened but she felt his body turn on like a switch. He wanted her and for the first time in her life she knew she wanted him just as badly.

She could never really have him.

She had to stop growing attached. This would end. She rested her head on his strong shoulder, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

“I think—” she started before she choked “—I should be the one to leave.”

“What?” She felt him go on alert. Before, she’d felt cold anger, and now she felt his heat.

“I don’t want you going back to the marines. I’ll leave so you don’t have to.”

“Why would you leave, Lexy?” he asked sharply.

“You’re reenlisting to get away from me. So I’ll go. You just finished healing. I watched you hover between life and death. I won’t let you get yourself killed.”

“Well, how about not asking me to go, damn it? Sometimes I hate you, Lexy. Where is your self-respect? You don’t have to give up everything. You would leave your job and family and friends because you don’t want me to go? Why do you get to be the victim all the time? You let him walk all over you. You let him destroy your dreams. You’re not a doormat. You need to stand up for yourself.”

“I did,” she cried, “and I got beat unconscious for it. Don’t you dare act like I asked for it. Don’t you dare say that I played the victim. I did the best I could. I did it because I didn’t have a choice.”

His silver eyes blazed with fire. “You let it happen. You let bad things happen to you and good things walk away. You’re determined to be miserable for the rest of your life.”

Miserable
was something she never wanted to be again. She was trying to take charge of her life.

“I had to stay for Kyle!”

“Don’t bring him into this. You had a choice. I paid his bill to take that excuse away from you. You could have left me weeks ago. This is all on you now. This is about what you want. But you’re too scared to decide.”

“I don’t want you to go, Ryan. Are you happy now? I invested my life in you.”

“You shouldn’t have.” He shook his head sadly. “You should invest in yourself. You should have left years ago. You should have left as soon as I could walk. You should have started over already. But you waited and everything turned to shit again.”

“How,” she breathed, “could you blame this on me?” She stood, now enraged.

“You cry when I make love to you. You tense when I touch you and other nights you crawl into my bed. Sometimes I feel so close to you I could crawl inside of you, and other times you throw up a wall so high that I can’t climb it. That’s why I need to get away from you—because I can’t live like this anymore. Either we live together as man and wife or we go our separate ways forever. I can’t take the in-between. I can’t live with a woman who is half terrified of me.”

* * *

It was just after midnight when Lexy walked out of the Calloway. The air had grown chilly and she shivered in her tank top and short skirt. Somehow she managed to blow it with Ryan. He was going to walk out of her life. She should be relieved, but she wasn’t.

She had fallen in love with him, but she knew he wasn’t hers and she felt too guilty to ask him to stay.

“Lexy.” She heard her name called by a male voice.

“Georgie?” She strained to see him. There weren’t many lights behind the Calloway.

“Yeah, I came to see you.” He moved closer to her and she could smell the beer and sweat on him.

“Why?”

“Why?” He moved closer, invading her space. “I wanted to see you. Can’t one friend visit another?”

“We’re not friends, Georgie.” She tried to push past him. He grabbed her and pushed her against the wall. She gasped in shock.

“What’s your damn problem, Lexy? You spend all the fucking time acting like you’re too good for me. You’re just a mutt. You ain’t no better than anybody else. You shouldn’t be so picky.”

“Let go of me, Georgie.” His grip tightened and she felt fear slice through her.

“You were mine, damn you.” His eyes glazed over with anger. “You were mine and Ryan took you away from me.”

“I was never yours.” She struggled. “I never even liked you. Why would you think I ever wanted you?”

“You were sweet to me.” He pushed her harder into the wall, the bricks scraped her back.

“I’m nice to everybody. Let me go!” She began to fight him but he had her pinned.

“No! You picked him over me and he beat you. You’re a stupid bitch. I would have loved you.”

Fear began to build in her chest, but she warned herself not to let it get the best of her. He would win if she did. “You let him beat me. If you loved me you would have stopped him, but you let him nearly kill me.”

“You deserved it!” Spittle flew out of his mouth and into her face. “You betrayed me. You both did and because of you I lost my best friend.”

He was insane. He’d snapped. She wasn’t going to get away from him unharmed but she wouldn’t go down without voicing the truth.

“He chose you over me,” she yelled in his face. “Every day. He lost all of our money for your stupid schemes. He chose to go out drinking with you every night. He loved you more than he ever loved me.”

“He’s changed. He joined the marines for you. He comes back and doesn’t want nothing to do with me. He tells me to stay away from you. Who does he think he is?”

“My husband!” she spat. “Get off of me.”

“No.” He forced his big smelly body against hers. “Your husband walked out on you. I saw him go. I knew it wouldn’t last. I knew you would end up with me.”

“End up with you!” She struggled harder, bucking her body, fighting him until she was breathless. “Let go of me, you son of a bitch!”

He was big, nearly as big as her husband. Too big to fight off. He grabbed her neck. If she moved he would choke her.

“I loved you, Lexy.” He forced his mouth on hers, kissing her hard. “I hope you can make it up to me.”

“Stop it,” she sobbed and before she knew it his hand shot up her skirt. “No!” She tried to scratch at him, her nails clawing at his skin, but he didn’t seem to notice. He just tightened his grip on her neck. He grabbed her through her panties, kissing the side of her face.

Something, a glimmer of light, made her look to her left. She saw Ryan looking at her and a piece of her died. He locked eyes with her. He was going to let it happen. The tears came now. She had no idea he hated her enough to watch her get raped.

“Get off of her,”
he growled deep in his throat. Georgie looked up completely shocked. Suddenly Ryan was at Lexy’s side, delivering massive blows to Georgie’s face. “I told you to leave her alone.” He smashed Georgie’s head against the brick wall. “She’s my wife. You’re a dead man.”

Ryan delivered blow after blow in cold fury. Georgie’s eyes were blackened and swollen. His lips were bleeding, a tooth on the ground. Ryan was going to kill him.

“Ryan, stop,” she cried.

“He tried to rape you.” He kicked Georgie in the stomach. “I told him not to touch you. I warned him.”

It was clear Ryan wasn’t going to stop.

“Please, Ryan. I want to make love to you.”

He stilled.

She was shaking violently. “Ryan, my heart, come home with me right now and make love to me. I need you.”

He stepped away from Georgie, who was moaning in pain. It was then the door burst open—one of the line cooks and the bartender rushed out. “We saw you through the window.” He looked down at Georgie. “At first we didn’t know it was you, Lex.”

“We thought it was just another couple making out. And then we saw Ryan” the bartender said. “We would have never let him near you if we had known.”

Georgie groaned again and tried to sit up but his body was too weak to manage it. Lexy was afraid he was badly hurt, that his injuries could be serious. She didn’t feel sorry for him. She just didn’t want Ryan to be charged with his death. “Can you get him to the hospital?”

“You sure you want us to do that?” the cook said. “We can take him out in the woods.”

“No. Please. Just get him fixed up.”

“All right. But he won’t be bothering you anymore. We’ll make sure of it.”