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I pull back to look at him. “Him, who? Luke?”
“Can’t break a promise,” he mutters.
“What about you, Ryder? Who takes care of you?”
He shakes his head as if he can’t understand my question. “I take care of myself.”
I shake my head sadly. “No, you don’t. You torment yourself with guilt and regret. Luke was my brother. He was your best friend. We both loved him, but he’s gone, Ryder.”
“Yes,he’sgone, and it should’ve been me!” he snarls, pulling away from me and raking a hand through his hair. “He shouldbe hanging decorations and dressing as an elf on Christmas morning. He should be here with his family. Not me.”
I feel his pain as if it were mine. “But he’s not here, Ryder. What happened was a terrible tragedy for all of us. But Luke knew what he was signing up for, just like you did. He lived his life on his terms and made his own decisions. And he wouldn’t want to see you like this. He’d want you to live in the moment, not in the past. He’d want you to be happy. To live your life like each day is precious. Because it is.”
I pause as I realize I’m crying, but I’m not done. “I loved what we did in my house the other morning. I loved having your hands and mouth on me. I loved the simple pleasure of sitting on a bench and drinking hot chocolate with you. I loved it all because I loveyou,Ryder. I’ve loved you for years. I loved you before that last deployment in Afghanistan, and I loved you even more when you came back because I know the devastation you battled through to return to us. And I won’t hide how I feel anymore because my love for you is a part of who I am. Somewhere along the line, you became my heart, and I’m not ashamed of that.”
The only sign that Ryder has heard me is the slight flinch of his eyelids. His expression is blank, remote, like he’s gone somewhere else. My soul dies a little. I can’t reach him.
I suck in a calming breath. Time for some harsh truths, then. “You say Luke saved your life that day, but it doesn’t seem like it. Because what you’re doing? It’s not living. It’s not even existing. It’s torturing yourself. And I love you too much to stand by and watch you do that to yourself.”
Now I’m done. I’ve laid everything on the line. Rolled the dice. It’s up to him now. He needs to want to participate in life. I can’t do it for him.
I wait. And wait.
Ryder is still silent, his hands clenching at his sides. I guess I have my answer.
Without another word, I leave the room, quietly closing the door behind me.
Nine
RYDER
I’m lost in a personal hell of my own making. Charity loves me. She’s loved me for years—me, the man who returned when her brother didn’t.
When I saw her holding that gun this afternoon, my brain short-circuited. I was back in Helmand, under fire, with the dying screams of my brothers-in-arms ringing in my ears.
Charity brought me back a little at a time, holding me, murmuring soft words of comfort until the nightmare faded, and she filled my vision, my soul, and every pore of my body.
And then she gave me a dose of home truths, the likes of which I’ve never heard before, not even from my therapist. Her words were brutal, and they shook me to my core.
But everything she said was true. I’ve been living a half-life. Punishing myself day after day over things I can’t change, for surviving when Luke didn’t, and for falling in love with his sister. I regarded it as the ultimate betrayal, but what if it’s the ultimate gift? Charity is right. Luke’s not here, but I am.
I’ve allowed guilt to dictate my decisions, but no more.
The second I acknowledge it, a weight lifts from my shoulders.
I love Charity—more than I ever imagined loving someone. For the first time, I allow it to wash over me, tofeelit. I don’t want to be a part of her life out of some misguided sense of duty and obligation to her brother. I want to be in her life as her lover, her mate, her husband, and the father of her children.
Everything in me wants to head over to her place now and throw her down on the nearest horizontal surface so I can show her with my hands and mouth and words how much I love her.
But I want to do things right. She deserves the flowers and the ring and the whole damn proposal. A plan begins to form in my mind. Tomorrow, after filming has wrapped, I’ll—
A crash from the set pulls me from my thoughts. Instantly, I’m on red alert. I check the time, surprised to see it’s after midnight. I’ve been sitting here for hours, lost in my thoughts.
And now it seems we have an intruder.
Leaving the office, I don’t switch on the lights, instead pulling the small flashlight from my shirt pocket and keeping a hand on the Glock at my hip. I approach the stage slowly, my training kicking in, my senses attuned to every sound.
Movement catches my eyes, and the beam of my flashlight falls on . . .Santa?
