Page 52 of Rescuing Mary

“Yeah. My parents had no problem telling me what a perfect daughter she was every time they saw me. Granted, I haven’t talked to them in a long time, but I’m guessing she’s fine.”

Mary’s mind was racing. She couldn’t believe Truck had a sister that no one knew about. “Maybe if your parents were so awful to you, they did something to prevent her from contacting you. Maybe they were mean to her too, or threatened her in some way. Did you ever think about that?”

Truck stared at her for what seemed like forever before he said, “No. And what kind of brother and man does that make me, that I was so locked in my hatred for them that I didn’t even think about what they could be doing to Macie?”

“Don’t,” Mary warned, sorry she’d even brought it up. “Whatever they did isn’t on you. So…Macie was popular and you weren’t?” she asked, wanting to change the subject slightly and get back to what they were talking about before his huge revelation…namely, his bullying. It was hard to believe a man like Truck was ever bullied.

Truck nodded and continued, “When I was in the tenth grade, I finally started filling out, but by then it was too late. I was the weird, tall, quiet kid. I was lonely a lot, as I didn’t have any friends. I joined the local YMCA and started doing weights and running, just to keep my mind off how miserable I was. I joined the Army right out of high school, and my dad actually laughed at me when I told him what I’d done. He didn’t think I’d be able to cut it.”

“But you did,” Mary said.

“Yup. Decided I was going to show him. I signed up for Delta Force and was thrilled when I was chosen. The training sucked, but every time I wanted to give up, I thought about those kids making fun of me and my dad telling me I would never amount to anything. I was going to go home and throw it in my dad’s face that not only had I done it, I was a force to be reckoned with. I even thought about how proud Macie would be of me, and it kept me going. But then I got this.” Truck gestured to his face once again.

“The Army contacted my family, and my parents came to see me in the hospital. It looked a lot worse back then, believe it or not, and my dad took one look at my ruined face and turned his back on me. They didn’t know I was conscious…and he told my mom that at least they still had one good-looking kid. He couldn’t stop talking about how hideous I looked, how no woman would have me now, even if I was some ‘hotshot killer’.”

“That asshole!” Mary exclaimed. “He should’ve gotten down on his knees and thanked God you were alive.”

“Yeah, well, that was the last time I saw them. They were surprised when they found out I wasn’t unconscious and told them to get the fuck out, and that I was done with them. For good.”

“What did they say?”

“Nothing. They simply left.”

“I can’t believe that!” Mary said again, standing up and pacing in front of the couch. “I mean, you were hurt serving your country! How could they turn their backs on you?”

Truck grabbed her hand when she paced by and yanked her toward him. Mary shrieked, not expecting the move, and landed with an umph on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and lay back, resting his head on the arm of the couch. He shifted her until she was lying with her back to the cushions and her front plastered against his side.

Mary froze. All she could think about was her boobs. Were they still where they were supposed to be inside her bra? What if they’d shifted? The last thing she wanted was for Truck to look down and see one of her inserts sticking up from her shirt, or a lump in the middle of her stomach.

But all thoughts of her chest flew out the window when Truck lifted his head and buried his nose in her hair.

“What…what are you doing?” she asked shakily.

“You smell so good,” Truck told her.

“Um…you know this is weird since we just met,” she said, trying to put some space between them. She didn’t want the space, she’d missed him terribly, but she was trying to do the right thing.

“How long have you known me?” Truck asked, keeping his nose right where it was.

“Um…a couple of years.”

“So this isn’t weird,” he concluded.

“Truck!” Mary protested.

“Mary!” he countered. “Relax. I need this right now. I hate thinking about my parents, about my childhood. And you smell so good. Comforting. Give me a second.”

How could she keep resisting when he said things like that? She couldn’t. Besides, she loved being here with him. They’d lain just like this many times in the past. He’d held her when she’d felt sick from the chemo. They’d watched television or simply slept.

Mary melted into him and shifted one leg up and over his. Her arm wrapped around his huge chest and she let her head relax until it rested on his massive shoulder.

“You know, that explains so much,” she said after a minute or two.

“What explains what?”

“You never call people out when they’re being rude. When they stare at your scar like it’s the most fascinating thing ever. When people look down their noses at you. I’ve always wondered why.”

“It’s just not worth it. Besides, I have a feeling you probably stuck up for me more than once, didn’t you?”