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Instead of going back to my house, I called Ben, the security consultant, and asked to meet today. I was going to have him involved in setting up security at the distillery anyway, but now it’s urgent. If I’m not going to be her bodyguard, there’s very few people I’ll trust for this job.
I’m waiting at Hope’s Diner when he arrives. After catching up on a few fellow soldiers that we have in common, I give him the blueprints for her executive office rebuild. Then I told him about the note last night.
“You really care about her,” he says.
I strum my fingers on the table when a blue haired waitress comes by. “Hey darlin’, are you and Vanessa back together? The whole town's talking about it. You would never let anything happen to that girl. Destiny. Sometimes you have to be apart to know what you’re missing. That’s what happened to Harold and me.”
I give her a genuine smile because I’m happy she was able to get that second chance. “May we have two coffees, black, and two cheese danishes.”
She pops her hip and gum at the same time. “Well?”
“Well, what?” I furrow my brow.
“Are you back together?”
I take a deep breath. “No.”
She tilts her chin to the side and her open wide. “Oh. Hang in there, Beau.”
Ben studies me before he says anything. She brings our coffee and pastries, sliding them from her forearm with ease while holding two mugs.
Ben’s a listener. I guess that’s one of the reasons why he was an Arabic linguist embedded into my seal team. He was in the Air Force, and I was in the Navy, but the battles we faced together had a deep-rooted impact. Those shared struggles forged unbreakable bonds, making us best friends since we were fortunate enough to return home. Those struggles have also led us down the path of silence at times, attempting to erase the haunting memories.
He rolls the coffee mug in his palms. “The construction is no problem. How long will it take to get the framing up?”
“Maybe a week at most. The problem is, she fired me.”
His brown brows raise and his eyes shutter like he’s a camera skimming through a file. There were rumors and jabs about him having an insanely high IQ. “What happened?” he asks.
“To make her fire me or in general?”
“Both. It’s important if you want me to have my guys on this.”
My cheeks puff as I let out an enormous breath. I run my hand over my face. “We started “going together” when we were in the sixth grade. Never broke up once until the night before I left for basic training.”
“Long distance. Been there and done that. It’s a bitch,” he says, commiserating with me.
I shake my head. “I wish. I caught her with my twin brother.”
He tries not to look shocked, but the way he repositions in his seat gives him away. There aren’t many soldiers trained as well and as thoroughly as a seal team member.
“Oh. So why did you take the job of being her bodyguard?”
“I know I shouldn’t have, but I did because…fuck no one cares about her more than me. I did some things last night that I’m not proud of.”
He leans forward, whispering, “You didn’t force yourself on her, did you?” His face reddens and jaw tightens.
Some guys come home with anger issues they can’t control, luckily I’ve mastered controlling my feelings—until last night. I wanted her so badly, but I also wanted her to feel the painful blow she inflicted on me all those years ago. The one that still kills me to this day.
“No, of course not. We got a little too close, and let’s just say, I stopped and made her feel like she was nothing but a memory.”
“So, it’s her on your tattoo?”
“Yeah.”
He clears his throat, and with pity in his voice, he says, “Has she seen it?”
I shake my head. I’m so fucking stupid for tattooing her silhouette on my body. But when you’re fighting for your life, you do whatever you can to help you remember to fight. Fight to stay alive. Fight for the guys fighting for you. Fight for the people at home so they can rest easy.
