Текст книги "A Lover's Lament "
Автор книги: K. L. Grayson
Соавторы: B. T. Urruela
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 25 страниц)
“What if I’m not ready for this?” Her head snaps toward me. “What if I’m making a huge mistake?” I ask. Her eyes bounce around my face, uncertainty swirling in the depths of her whiskey-colored eyes.
“But what if you’re not,” she breathes, her eyes imploring me to really consider what she’s saying. “What if this is a second chance? You’ve told me how much Devin meant to you and how crushed you were when he left. But what if it just wasn’t your time? What if the two of you needed to separate so that you could come back together, stronger and more solid?”
“What if I let him in and he leaves again?”
A slow smirk plays at the corner of Maggie’s mouth. “Then I’d rip his fucking balls off.” I offer her a tremulous smile and she sobers up. “But I don’t think it’d come to that. You want to know why?”
I nod.
“I think that Devin is probably a fairly smart fella, which is why he’s been writing you. Now, I don’t know exactly what the letters say, but you did tell me that he’s apologized more than once. I’d bet just about anything that he realizes he made a big-ass mistake—a mistake that he won’t make again.”
I want to believe her—I really do—but there are too many ‘what ifs.’ Starting with, “What if I’m making a big-ass mistake by thinking he won’t hurt me again?”
“Katie.” Maggie sighs, scooting forward on the cushion. “Life is one big chance. You can either choose to sit on the sidelines and always take the safe route, or you can jump into the game. I think you need to jump into the game. Fate has fucked with you enough, and this time I think it’s working in your favor … either that, or your old man is pulling some pretty big strings from upstairs.”
My mind drifts back to the silent plea I made to my dad the day of his funeral.
“You promised you’d never leave me,” I cry, making no attempt to wipe away my tears. My throat tightens, making it hard to talk, but I need to get this out. Lowering myself, I kneel next to Daddy’s casket, which is perched just inside the ground. His name, Christopher James Devora, is etched into the nameplate. My chest hurts—physically hurts—and I rub at it, trying to ease the pain.
“I’m not sure I can do this without you.” My words break on a sob and I bury my face in my hands. “Show me the way,” I beg, my shoulders heaving. “Put me on the right path, and I promise I’ll follow it … I promise. But you have to give me a sign, Daddy,” I plead, finally gathering the strength to look up. Gently, I place my hand against the side of his casket, my fingers drifting over his name. “I need to know you’re with me.”
Devin’s name was on that pen pal list for a reason—I know it was. Would I have formed a bond or friendship with any of the other soldiers, or did fate and something entirely too big for me to understand bring Devin back to me?
Unspoken words linger heavy in the air, their meaning so powerful and intense that I’m too scared to speak them.
“Maggie, I need to go.”
“How To Save A Life” – The Fray
I CAN’T STOP SMILING. EVEN if I could stop, I don’t know that I’d want to. I left Maggie’s in a hurry to get home, hopeful that I’d have a message from Devin waiting in my inbox. Plus, I was shaken over what I’d seen on the news and admittedly rattled by the realization that maybe—just maybe—he and I were supposed to come back into each other’s lives. And who knows, maybe we’re meant to be nothing more than friends, but I needed to get home and process it … process everything. I didn’t get much time to take it all in though because the second I pulled up my Gmail account and saw his name, I had to read what he wrote—and I wasn’t disappointed.
His words put a big, goofy grin on my face. Oh, and the fact that he isn’t married and I didn’t inadvertently become an emotional mistress. That makes me smile too. A lot.
After hitting reply, I sit and watch the cursor blink steadily on the screen. I want nothing more than to lay it all on the line. I want to tell him that news of the roadside bomb scared the shit out of me, and that in that moment, I was desperate to hear from him and talk to him—that I would’ve given anything to be able to pick up the phone and call him, just to make sure he was okay. I want him to know I was worried, to know that I care.
But as my fingers continue to press against the keyboard, unmoving, my mind goes completely blank. Laughing at myself—because this Devin, and I know how to talk to Devin—I decide to do what comes easy …
To: Sergeant Devin U. Clay
From: Katie Devora
Subject: Bye Bye Bye
Devin,
The Backstreet Boys, really, Dev? Did I not make you listen to that whole damn album every day that summer? It was NSYNC, not Backstreet Boys. Come on, don’t you remember my crush on Justin Timberlake? Honestly, this is just unforgiveable!
Nice knowing you, soldier…
Sincerely,
Katie
With a smile on my face, I hit send.
Oh shit, I hit send!
Clicking on his email, I hit ‘reply’ and try again, hoping like hell he doesn’t see that email and think I was serious. Way to go, Katie.
To: Sergeant Devin U. Clay
From: Katie Devora
Subject: How to save a life
Devin,
Okay … I forgive you. Not just for mistaking NSYNC—the best boy band of the 90’s—for the Backstreet Boys, but because you’re a man and well, that was probably unfair of me to assume you could keep all those songs straight. My bad ;)
And no, I don’t jam out to “Bye Bye Bye” when I’m pissed off anymore. I gave you a little clue, in the form of the subject line, as to what my go-to song is these days. I feel like the whole song is somehow about me, only I’m the one being saved.
Now, to answer your other question, the one I looked right over. No, I’m not married and I’m not seeing anyone. I will be honest with you though. I did just recently get out of a long-term relationship.
Pursing my lips in contemplation, I remove my hands from my laptop and thread them through my hair. Do I tell Devin that it was Wyatt I was engaged to? A part of me wants to leave that little bit of information out, but somehow it feels wrong—and I’ve had enough wrong in my life to last a lifetime.
I was engaged to Wyatt. The details don’t really matter and maybe someday we’ll talk about it, but I recently broke things off and it didn’t go well. It probably makes me sound like a horrible person, but I wasn’t happy, and with everything that happened with my dad … well, life is just too short and I couldn’t drag him along any longer. I couldn’t do it to myself either. So I called off our engagement, and in case you’re wondering, which is incredibly presumptuous of me, I’m doing really well with it. That’s how I know I did the right thing.
Anyway, I don’t want to bore you with all of that. So you want to know something you don’t already know about me? There’s not much to tell, but I’ll give it a shot.
Do you remember me telling you I work with my best friend, Maggie? We met in college and became fast friends. It sounds pathetic, but I don’t have much of a life outside of work and Maggie. And everyone loves Maggie—except Wyatt. They never did get along, but she’s gorgeous and funny, and she’s one of those people that lives by her own set of rules. She does what she wants when she wants to do it, and she doesn’t give a shit what anyone else says. She is the best girlfriend I could ask for, and I know that you would absolutely love her. I can totally picture the two of you shootin’ the shit over a couple of beers next to the fire pit, and trust me when I tell you that she can dish it out just as good as she can take it. I hope that one day you get to meet her.
And you want to know my biggest fear, huh? That’s a tough one. Okay, before my father was killed, my biggest fear was death. I’m sure that answer sounds cliché, but it’s true. I can remember lying awake at night, and I’d start thinking about death and the fact that once we’re gone, we’re never coming back. No more sunsets on my favorite hill, or riding Mac in the rain. Never again would I feel the burn in my legs after running, or the ache in my chest after laughing too hard. It’s scary, thinking of all the things you’d never get to experience again. Some nights, when I would think about it too much, I’d have to get out of bed and go do something to quiet my brain.
Anyway, after Daddy’s death, I’d say my biggest fear is no longer death itself but losing a person I care about. And not just anyone, but someone that owns a piece of my heart … someone I’m invested in. Losing my dad nearly destroyed me, and I’m not sure I’d survive something like that again.
I told you mine, now you tell me yours. It’s only fair ;)
Always,
Katie
My mouse hovers over the ‘send’ button, and I suck my bottom lip between my teeth as I contemplate whether or not to mention the roadside bomb I heard about on the news. Is that something that I can just bring up? Because I really want to know …
PS. I saw on the news that there were a few bombings, and I’m sure that’s an everyday thing for you, but I’ll be honest … it sort of freaked me out. I’ve never known someone at war, so when I heard about it, well, it scared me, and I thought of you. And I guess … I just want to know that you’re okay, and that your men are okay, and I want you to know I’m thinking about you and praying for you. Also, I’m not sure the whole phone situation over there, but I’m always available on my cell … you know, if you ever want to call me ... (533)-224-9892
“The Fear In Love” – Don’t Look Down
FUCK THESE MORNINGS. THE ONES where I wake up after a restless night of sleep about ten minutes before mission. The ones that limit personal hygiene and add unnecessary stress to an already long day. The ones were I barely have time to take a piss, let alone check my fucking email in the Comm Center.
I rush to get into uniform, brush my teeth quickly, and meet my guys near the trucks. They laugh their asses off as I approach, my uniform half on and sweat already running down my cheeks. I pierce a hole through them with my eyes as I finish strapping on my gear and tightening my helmet.
“You motherfuckers can’t wake a guy up?” I yell, slamming a fist into the hood of the Humvee. I make my way to the passenger seat and look over at headquarters just before climbing in. It’s like I have X-ray vision. I see straight through the walls into the communications center and to the computer that sits there, taunting me with an unread email from Katie. I huff and sink my ass into the seat, slipping my headset on and slamming the door shut.
“Hey, what can I say, Sarge? You had one thumb in your mouth and the other one up your ass. It was just too cute to fuck with.” Navas cackles and nudges my elbow with his boot. “I swear we were coming to get you in five minutes.”
“Five more minutes and I would’ve had to go out on mission without pants.” The Humvee pulls out of the spot and toward the gates as the other two vehicles follow behind. “Thomas, you’re the driver. It’s your job to wake up the boss.”
Thomas waves to the two men guarding the front gate as we pass through it before glancing over at me with a smile. He’s looking a lot better since our talk.
“It wasn’t my fault, Sarge. Navas said to leave you there. That you needed your beauty sleep.” He laughs and steers the Humvee onto the main road. While I’m okay with the extra sleep, I was hoping to at least be up in time to check my email before heading out on mission. Now, that’s all I’m going to be able to think about right now. Fuck, that’s all I’m going to be able to think about all day, for that matter. It’s going to make for a long twelve hours.
The air conditioning pumps out lukewarm air, which does little to alleviate this early afternoon sun. The heavy armor on the Humvees and the heat of the engine make the vehicle like an oven during this time of day. I try my best to stay comfortable, setting each hand against the A/C vents, soaking up every bit I can get. Thomas is passed out—as usual—resting his helmeted head against the steering wheel. I wonder how he can even manage sleeping with how steamy it is right now. Then again, even though there are times I can’t sleep if my life depends on it, there are other times I can pass out in five seconds using my helmet as a pillow. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, really; it’s just the way of a soldier. You learn to adapt … eventually.
But this heat is a different story. I’ll never get used to this.
Navas is talking about some episode of The Office where Dwight sets the office on fire as a safety test for his co-workers, but I’m not really listening. He goes on these tangents about episodes of The Office as if they actually happened in his life—like he was telling me an old story of his or something. It’s funny as shit, but I could care less right now.
My head is stuck on Katie and how much clearer my mind has been since we’ve started talking again. I can’t shake the feeling that this is something that was supposed to happen … that our paths have crossed once again for a reason. But why now? Why when I’m deployed thousands of miles away without the option of seeing her—or the assurance that I ever will again? For all I know, I’ll be one of a hundred flag-draped coffins lining the back of a C-130.
That terrible thought is broken up by a loud “hey” that roars into the headset. It’s so loud it jolts Thomas from his sleep for a moment before he nuzzles back into the door panel.
“Are you listening to me, asshole?” Navas grunts.
“Yeah, yeah, man, The Office and Dwight, and all that.”
“You’re a dick! You’re supposed to be my best friend, man. That means entertaining me on boring-ass missions,” Navas says, his voice purposely whiny, which makes me laugh because it seems so unnatural coming from a man his size.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that turret strap has cut off the circulation to your balls. You might want to think about standing for a while, bro. Maybe getting some blood back into those little guys.” I laugh, and so does he, but he stifles it quickly.
“Don’t make me pull these bad boys out.” He tilts toward me and spreads his legs, gripping his crotch in his hand. “I wouldn’t want to give you a complex.” I reach a hand out before he can move away and slap the back of my fingers against his balls—hard. His knees jerk together, and he nearly falls out of the turret strap on top of our interpreter. Mike, being all of a hundred and twenty pounds, cowers against the side of the door, but Navas catches himself and then clutches his balls, howling in pain.
“You… are such… a fuck,” he pants in between gasps.
“Well, don’t put that shit in my face. I don’t want to catch anything.” I laugh loudly as he fidgets in the turret.
“Just wait, you fuck, I’m not playing around. I’m getting you back tenfold.”
“Don’t make me pull rank, specialist,” I joke, tilting my head back and shooting him a smile up the turret. “You owe me some fucking push-ups when we get back, bitch!”
He smiles back, shooting me a middle finger salute. “Yeah, good luck enforcing that while you’re sittin’ in the Comm Center!”
I relax into my seat and check my watch. Of all our missions, this has been by far the most boring, but I’m careful not to mention it … or even think about it. Not anymore. Not after the girl.
“Since you don’t wanna listen to me, fucker, you get to talk,” Navas says. “So what’s up with Katie?” As soon as he asks it, her face teases my thoughts. I don’t want to talk to him about this. Hell, I don’t even know what’s going on myself. I take a moment to respond, but I guess it’s too long for Navas’s liking. “Hello … you either listen or talk, one or the other, but we aren’t just going to sit here in silence. I won’t allow it.”
“Okay, then you talk,” I say.
“No, no, no,” Navas says, “you lost that privilege. Now you get to tell me what’s going on with Miss Katie Devora. Or is it Mrs. Katie Devora?” He smirks at me, but just the thought of her being married to Wyatt makes me shudder. There would at least be wedding pictures up already, right?
“Come on, man. Nothing’s going on. What could even happen anyway? I’m a million miles away and a decade too late.” I think back to her engagement photo with Wyatt, and I feel my fingernails dig into my palms. Yup, I totally stalked her MySpace page and there he was, front and center. I always hated that kid, but knowing he’s going to fucking marry my Katie makes me want to go crazy.
“Don’t give me that bullshit. I know you, man. You haven’t used the Comm Center this entire deployment, and all of a sudden you’re there, what, three times a day over the past week? That’s sayin’ something.” He stops, but before I can get a word in edgewise, he continues. “I’ve noticed a change in you, I’m not gonna lie. You’re not so fucking mopey these days. I know I can be depressing sometimes, but you were starting to get like Sophie’s Choice level of depressing on me. I can’t be havin’ any of that.”
I laugh and finally decide to let the words spill. What do I have to lose?
“I don’t know. It’s just been nice having someone to talk to that doesn’t have a hand in any of this and can take my mind away from everything. Somebody I have a past with. I just wish I still had a chance…” I trail off, realizing I may not really want to share the next part with Navas, but he finishes it for me anyway.
“You looked her up, didn’t you?” he asks, knowing full well I did, having figured out how to read me long ago.
“It’s your fucking fault, man!” I say, convinced I never would have if it weren’t for him. Oh, how much easier this mission would be if I hadn’t.
“She’s a fuckin’ knockout, isn’t she?” He stretches his head down the turret hatch and looks at me inquisitively. He has a ridiculous smirk on his face. “Isn’t she?”
“Shit, she was a knockout when we were kids. Now it’s just unfair for every other woman on the planet.”
“Sounds like a good thing to me.”
“Well, I’m not with her, now am I?”
“Is she seeing somebody?” he asks, and I have to fight my desire to elbow his face to shut him up.
“You know I hate talking about this shit, right?”
My words go unnoticed as novice keeps talking. “In the year that I’ve known you, you’ve talked about this girl relentlessly. For a while there, I knew more about her than I did about you. You may think you’re Mr. Independent, trying to act all tough and shit, but you’re just like me, a tough candy shell with a gooey caramel center.” Annoyed, I tilt my head back to look at him again. Catching his playful smile, I refrain from throwing my elbow into his face. “We’re lovers … it’s just how God made us.”
“Yeah, well, I’m also a killer, so keep it up, dick!”
“Okay, okay, come on, I’m just playing. Don’t be ashamed of who you are, man. Ladies don’t want some emotionless hard-ass. They want a man who can love them better than anyone else,” he says, likely hoping it’s enough to get me talking. It works.
“She was the one that got away, man. And I don’t think anything or anyone will ever change that. She’s it for me ...” My voice trails off for a moment, and Navas takes it as his cue to chime in.
“So, she’s seeing someone, huh?”
“Yeah, man, she is. And of all people, she’s engaged to my childhood nemesis. The guy wanted her so bad when we were growing up, but she only had eyes for me. I should’ve known he’d swoop in the moment I left.”
“Why did you two end anyway? You never did tell me that part of it.”
“Conversation over, motherfucker.”
I’m not about to tell him about my biggest mistake, because then I’d have to tell him that, for the first time in my military career, I want to tear this uniform off, burn up my enlistment papers, and hop on a plane back home. For the first time in my life, my world seems so much bigger, my options limitless, my chances of happiness now visible.
And I know what he’d say. He’d tell me to go and get my girl. But I also know after seeing her picture with Wyatt that it would be nearly impossible.
Slouching down in my seat, I close my eyes. I still want to read that email that I hope to hell is waiting for me because maybe then the fact that she’s getting married will be hammered into my head. Maybe then I’ll be able to accept it and take this for what it is … a fucking friendship. And as much as it’ll kill me, I’d rather be friends than nothing at all.
