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Entering the coffee shop, I ignored the blushing glances from the barista as I took my black coffee and sandwich to an empty table in the back. She’d looked disappointed but there was no point in being nice, I wasn’t nice and every inch of me belonged to Mia.
With the first sip of coffee, my pity party commenced. Each day while I ate this same meal, I allowed myself to think of the what ifs. What if I hadn’t left? What if I’d stayed and explained my nightmare? Would she have understood? Would she have rejected me?
It was that fear of her rejection that had me running like a coward into the night. I’d seen it happen one too many times while I was active duty. Like an idiot, I’d always brag how lucky I was that I didn’t have a woman waiting for me at home. Civilians couldn’t understand what I was bringing home with me.
That shit manifested in dreams and dreams were an enemy you couldn’t kill. Warped replays of things we’d done, people we’d killed, people who almost killed us. PTSD was a mother fucker, catching you off guard at the worst fucking times. A familiar looking face in the grocery store, a car backfiring, fucking fireworks. Or when you were in bed with your woman and had a loaded gun in your nightstand.
“Fuck,” I pushed away the sandwich and rested my head in my hands. I was so damn tired, my body begged for sleep. Unfortunately, my brain was never too tired to dream. But it wasn’t the twisted nightmares, no, my dreams were now filled with crisp memories. Happy moments in time spent with Mia and Miles. Memories of sinking deep into Mia’s tight pussy that had me waking covered in sweat with a hard cock. Memories of Mia’s terrified face while I pointed a gun at her.
“You going to finish that?” The chair across from me scraped along the floor and I sighed as a tattooed mother fucker almost as big as myself sat down. My dinner was nothing but crumbs before I even acknowledged him.
“Please, help yourself,” I responded dryly. “How’d you find me?” I leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest while I waited for him to wash down the sandwich with my cold coffee.
“What, like it’s hard?” He’d raised his voice a few octaves and tilted his head to the side. When I remained silent, he slapped his hands on the table, the barista startling in the background where she’d been wiping the same table for the last couple of minutes and pretending not to eavesdrop. “Elle Woods? We’re having a movie night when you come home.”
“Who said I was coming home?” Mia and Miles weren’t there anymore and I didn’t know what I’d do when I walked through the door to be greeted by nothing but their absence. Probably burn the damn thing to the ground.
“So, this is your new gig? Should I let Gray know that you’ve started a rival security business? He’s going to be pretty disappointed considering he worked his ass off and got you FMLA so that you don’t lose your damn health insurance.” He leaned his chair on two feet and rocked back like what he’d just said would make sense to me and I’d actually care if it did.
“What do you want, Roe?”
“Believe it or not, you grumpy asshole, I care about you. We all do. Other than your singular ‘I’m going off the grid’ e-mail which, for the record, there is no off the grid when it comes to me, you haven’t checked in and we were concerned. You look like shit, by the way, it seems we were right to be concerned. Have you talked to Mia?”
I sent him a glare that had withered even the hardest Marines. Roe responded with a cheery smile that had me picturing all the ways I could kill him with the wooden coffee stirrer on the table. “No,” I answered through gritted teeth.
“She’s worried about you, too.”
Confirmation that Mia was thinking about me was a deep cut and blissful relief at the same time. I was obsessed with her, to the point of insanity and I greedily latched on to her concern for me. Yet, I knew that it was unearned. I’d done nothing but make Mia’s life more difficult since I’d entered it, which is why I was staying away and why I needed to complete my self-assigned mission.
“Is she—do you talk to her?”Greedy, greedy psycho.
“From time to time,” he was being evasive. He fucking knew I’d do anything for a scrap of information about Mia.
“Most recently I lied my ass off convincing her the car that had shown up in her driveway was actually an old car of my cousin’s that he needed looked after while he was on tour overseas. I’d say it was one of my top three performances considering I created an entire backstory for a non-existent cousin. He grew up in the circus, my aunt and uncle were acrobats who died tragically in a tent fire.”
Shit, I knew the car was going to be a long shot. Mia wasn’t stupid and Roe’s circus story would only make her more suspicious. But what was I supposed to do? Let her start taking the bus again in the middle of the night? Fat fucking chance.
“Thank you,” I chose not to acknowledge his fictional cousin.
“She’s yours, that makes her one of us. Even if you’re out here trying to fuck up a good thing. Sam asked me to punch you in the face, see if it would clear your head.” I gave him a look that dared him to try it, I might even welcome a good fight if it took away the pain that had settled inside me and focused it somewhere else. He held his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t say I’d do it. I’m not about to sign my death warrant when I finally have everything I’ve ever wanted.”
His happiness might as well have been a punch to the face. Roe and Sam had danced around each other for years. It had been obvious to everyone that they were in love with each other and now they were making it work despite their fears. I was happy for them. Still, I was drowning in my own misery and despite the saying, I didn’t want company.
“What will it take to get you to leave me alone and call off the others?”
He dropped his chair on all fours and crossed his arms, mirroring me. “Is there anything I can say or do to convince you to come back with me?” I shook my head; no way was I leaving until I took care of the asshole threatening my entire world. “I figured as much. We came up with a list of demands as a team.”
He shifted to his left and pulled a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket. He unfolded it and held it in two hands, clearing his throat dramatically. “Number one, regular check-ins, phone calls, no text or e-mail bullshit.” His eyes shifted upward and I nodded once, easy enough.
“Number two, you don’t make any moves without running them by Gray and Kane.”
“No.”
“Non-negotiable, man. Having one of the team members arrested won’t exactly do wonders for business. Let us help keep you out of a cage.”
“Fine,” I relinquished. I wasn’t interested in being locked up. Can’t protect Mia and Miles from behind bars.
“Lovely. Number three, you have one more week and then you come home.”
