My Soldier: A Miliatary Romance (16 page)

And in the end no one would find out about Kevin's sinful addiction...

It would die with me.

“Ooo.” Her lips rounded, head leaning in closer. “Tell me more, was he built like Superman too? I mean, if I had to pick a superhero to save me, I'd go with Thor. Uh, the mighty hammer—”

“Becca, does it matter?”

“Sorry, go on.” Her hand rolled, eyes pulling back from the inside of her own drooling daydream.

“I just can't get him out of my head. We went out a few times, but I sorta flew off the handle on our last date. I don't know, I just have an issue with anyone getting close.” Placing my fingers on my temples, I drew light circles with my fingertips. “And he was getting
way to close.”

Thinking about how he called me 'his,' how he went into a red haze when another man got out of line; I wanted to feel sick about it.

I wanted to think he was possessive— controlling— a pompous jackass who thought he could just say I was his and his magic tongue would beckon me to his side.

But my belly was heated, warming with pin pricks of excitement. The goosebumps surged up my spine, my brain exploding with raw emotion.

I didn't want to feel him like marrow in the center of my bones, but I did. If I admitted it to myself, wholeheartedly said the words out loud...

My center, my sun that held me in its gravity.
Everything would become all too real, the emotions would take shape, have form; I'd have to accept what I wanted to dismiss.

“Avni, sometimes you can't control how you feel. I know why you're afraid to let him in.” Becca's hand reached out, rubbing my arm. “I don't want to sound harsh, but there comes a time when you need to let go. You can't live like this.”

Dipping my head, I cupped my hands over my face. “He said the same thing.”

“Maybe it's time for you to start listening to something other than your head, try listening to your heart. You might find it has a different answer.”

It does have a different answer.

I didn't have to listen, I could feel it. I just wasn't sure I was ready for that type of bare exposure. That feeling of being completely vulnerable to the same hurt I was forced to experience made me ill.

Rubbing the sides of my cheeks, I let my head fall into my hands. “It's just something I'm not sure I can handle, what if something bad happened to him too? That would kill me, I'd be fucking done.”

“Would you? Isn't there that saying, what doesn't kill us makes us stronger?”

Flipping my eyes up at her, Becca veered her stare. “I'm not sure that's true.” I felt more vulnerable, weaker to the idea or image of hurting.

Time was supposed to heal all wounds, but in my eyes, time only gave you more chances to dwell on it.

Time set in stone all the things you missed out on, time made everything concrete, time had become my enemy.

Every single day Kevin went through my head over a hundred times. There wasn't a thing that wouldn't trigger a memory of him.

If it rained, I'd think of us jumping in the mud puddles and our parents getting pissed when we tracked the dirt inside.

When it snowed, I'd remember building giant snow forts in the weather that made our noses red as cherries, then huddling beside the fireplace while drinking warm milk.

Fuck, even opening the fridge would trigger a memory. He used to prank me all the time, and once he set up the fridge so I'd get hit with all the condiments.

As pissed as I was when it happened, now I missed his adolescent boy humor.

“Avni, I haven't been through what you have, but I know life is too short to live it miserable. And you're miserable. You need a change, maybe your savior is the answer to your problem.”

My savior? My savior and tormentor all balled up into one body.

One gilded, formed, hard as lead, take me any time please body...

The third shift staff walked in, breaking us from our talk, and my brain from the picturesque image building inside .

Standing, I quickly jotted down a loose menu for the week and hung the board back up. “Alright, I'm heading home. T is probably doing the pee-pee dance at the door right now.”

Becca shot me a,
'we're not done, but good luck,'
glance. Gifting her with the biggest smile I could muster up, I nodded a reassuring bob of my head.

But in reality, I had no clue what the fuck I was going to do.

Grabbing my bag, I walked outside to my car and headed home. The streetlights passed by like a blur, Levi's face kept popping up in my mind.

His hard jaw, the small dimples that broke in his cheeks when he smiled; the way his hands touched my flesh with a delicate stroke. He made my heart thump, my lungs strain, and my nerves go numb when he was around.

I felt safe in his arms, for the first time ever in my life, I felt protected. He gave me the feeling of safety in a way I had never experienced.

And right then I knew the feeling that was riding my muscles all day was loss.

I missed him.

Wow, I miss him. Maybe I was supposed to meet him for a reason.

Could that be? Could it be a higher power that sent him to me to break me free from the prison I threw myself in?

Was that possible? Is it possible to meet a man and in no time at all need him more than anything else?

T threw himself at my feet when I opened the door. Picking him up I nuzzled his miniature face against my cheek.

“Miss me?” Kissing his head, he slobbered my face with his love. “Aw, I know you did.” Letting him go, I dropped my bag with a heavy thud onto the floor.

Six days now, six days and no Levi. I'm not the one caving, if he doesn't try to contact me then it definitely wasn't meant to be.

Meant to be? Seriously, Avni?

Crazy talk...

But I was aching for him to call me, text me, show up at my door. Anything at this point.

I wanted him here, here to keep me safe,
here for me.
He promised that.

Was he a man of empty promises?

No, he's a soldier. He was conditioned to protect and serve. He was trained to be bold and committed.

Levi was what every commander wanted in their troop, he was...

What? What was he?

I didn't know him well enough to give him any labels.

Why am I so hooked on a man that dropped into my world and left once challenged?

He could have tried to come back anytime and he didn't.

Glancing down at a pile of unopened mail sitting on my counter, I grumbled at the mass of what was probably bills and junk mail.

Fumbling through the white envelopes, I pushed all the bills to the side. A hand scripted note sat in the middle of my pile.

A mess of chicken scratch spelled my name across the center of the envelope. And in the upper left corner, the name I had so badly wanted see light up my screen. Levi Hite.

Did he?

My hands started to clam up, the surface sticky and warm with sweat. Every inch of my body had gone numb, all the pain that was crusting the surface had disappeared.

Peeling open the flap, I tugged out a poorly folded piece of paper. The white lines were creased in all directions, crumpled edges and split corners highlighted the folds.

It looked like he had written it, then folded it, then threw it in the trash, only to dig it out and send it anyway.

My body was buzzing, curiosity and electricity exploded across my brain. Opening the letter slowly, I was afraid it would tear in my fingers. His words lost in torn fragments of thoughts I'd have to piece back together.

V,

I'm not good at this. I'm not good at emotions, no better than me trying to put pen to paper.

But this is better than me rambling on and possibly offending you and forcing you out of my life forever. I don't want that.

I can't tell you what fills me when I'm around you, I can't explain in words the feelings that wrap my stomach and beat inside my head.

There's something there, something I can't get rid of no matter how much I try.

And I tried.

The worse part... I can't tell you in print, I can't tell you in text, or over the phone.

Do you believe in fate? Do you believe in things happening for a reason?

I do. And I feel that now more than ever.

Avni, for me you are the most interesting and complicated person I have had the pleasure of meeting. But I've met you before.

And it's that feeling of fate that keeps yanking on my brain. I believe I was meant to find you, I believe I was meant to help you, and I believe this didn't happen by accident.

I made a promise to help you, and I plan to stand by that.

When you're ready to accept what I know you feel too, I'll be here.

—Levi

My heart was in my throat, ribs breaking with the intense pounding hitting each one as my heart was forced up. My face hurt, my brain was tired; my stomach twirled with sea sickness. Now this.

He met me before? When?
That wasn't possible. You don't forget a man like Levi.

What did his cryptic letter mean? Fate?

I never believed in fate. Fate was a way to explain away what couldn't be understood, it was a cold attempt at glorifying death.

No one ever used the word fate unless they wanted to rationalize the sudden loss of someone close, or the swift demise of something worked for.

Was it fate when my brother died and a family already reeling with struggles of a disabled daughter—sister— lost their only son?

Was it fate when I unwillingly took my brother's burden and got beaten down emotionally for something my hands never touched?

No.

Fate was a word created by those who needed to believe things happened for a reason, for those who needed something to hold onto when they had nothing left to grasp.

Fate was a bullshit word that meant nothing.

I gave up on fate.

Now everything
just was.

Some people go through life riding on an iron horse, nothing breaking down the security around them. No horrors, no wounds.

My life was a stone skipping across the smooth surface of the water. It bounced a few times, then sank into the depths of darkness that waited below to tear it from the surface once gravity took hold.

I was sinking.

Levi

H
ave you ever been so scared in your life, everything literally stopped?

The world was paused, muted, and uncertainty hung above your head like a worm on a hook. Was the meal only a false tease that would get yanked away when you tried to take a bite?

Sixteen Months Earlier

Every noise turned to silence, and all that was left was my heartbeat. A thumping so uncontrollably intense, my surroundings moved in slow motion.

My ears were ringing with the loud explosions, a buzzing so excruciating it numbed every sense in my body.

Turning towards my troop commander, his lips were moving fiercely, but he wasn't speaking any words. None that I could hear anyway.

His face was distorted and angry, dirt and dust had found its way across his skin. The tinted, mud-colored smears were speckled with streaks of clean flesh from the sweat pouring over his temples.

In one blink the world around me started to spin, the ceiling was down, the floor was up. The truck jolted in one burst onto its roof, flipping and tumbling as if it was made of paper blowing in a breeze.

Shaking my head, I was no longer in my seat. I had been tossed outside, a billow of dirt had clouded around me.

Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, filling my limbs and mind with the need to stand and run for cover.

Pushing my palms into the sand, the grains were hot and seeping over the top of my hand as I pressed up.

An intense, searing burn cracked through the muscle of my left thigh, making me feel completely aware of each and every nerve ending.

The hard sinew stung, boiled, cooled to ice, then went up in an inferno. Falling back down, I gripped the side of my leg.

I knew I was screaming, I could feel my mouth temper and form the words, but the air filled screams wouldn't even crack the barrier of my own head.

I laid in shock, still trying to grasp what had just happened. The warm gush of blood had started to soak through my pants, turning the tan camo to deep crimson.

We had just hit an IED. There was no doubt in my mind, we became roadkill.

I watched pieces of the building beside our truck crumble. Bullets ricocheted off the cement walls around me, leaving large gaping holes. The structure across from me began to crack and fall apart. Walls disintegrating and tumbling to the street.

And the smell; the scent of fear, mixed with anger and burning rubble; had started to coat my brain.

I wanted to kill the motherfucker who had just tried to destroy us. I had only been here for a month, but that was long enough to hollow out the evil that existed outside the safety of our barracks.

My first tour I was lucky. The gunfire was there, the explosions were loud and seemed to sit right outside my door. But that's all it remained; sounds. There had been no close calls, no true risk that presented itself as a smack in the face.

Everything about my second tour felt different.

The sky was speckled in a deep gray blanket, the air as I stepped off the plane held a thicker taste. Even the voices of the locals seemed to whisper through the wind with no true sound.

A man I had met many months before had warned me of the dangers that lurked outside our protective walls.

But the war was slowing, troops had been getting pulled out, and less were being sent in. I let my false security, and my young nature, blind me to the true threats at hand.

There were many good people here, many people that welcomed us with smiles and thankful gestures.

And then there were those that lived on the outskirts of society, the ones who carried true scorn and hatred. And it was those people I blindfolded myself from.

I should have seen the signs, I should have read the aromatic scent of death. But I didn't.

Digging my nails into the sand, I tried to drag myself out of danger. I didn't want to be sitting right in the sight of a sniper, an unaware mouse at the nest of a snake.