A Heart's War (The Broken Men Chronicles Book 5) (5 page)

It was apparent from the start that I’d bitten off more than I could chew.  A week into this construction gig at Morgan’s and I was already running behind schedule.  Having to teach her about the simplest of tasks was wearing me thin. To recoup some of my lost time, I’d put her on clean-up duty.  She didn’t say anything about it.  If anything, she seemed a little off when I’d arrived this morning; sad, if I was being honest.

Maybe, when she’s done, you can send her up to her room to handle the demo that needs to be taken care of?
  That wasn’t a bad idea.  The installation of the trusts, the roofing, shingles, and windows was scheduled for this Friday, and part of that happening meant that the master bedroom would need to be packed away, shielded from debris, and the drywall on two of her walls would need to be removed.  The room that she was using as an office would need the same treatment as well.

Morgan’s body cast a shadow on my work area.  “How’s it coming along?”

I grunted.  Rerouting a water line can sometimes be a bitch, and this time it sure as hell was trying my patience.  Add to that Morgan’s flowery scent, barely-there cut-off jeans, and thin tank tops, and let’s just say that my unrequited attraction to the woman was also part of what had me on edge.  “Pass me the pipe wrench, please?”  I held my hand out and waited.  When the damn thing never came, I turned to look at her expectantly.

“I’m not sure what I’m looking for,” she said.

“It’s by your right foot.”  I pointed to it.

Bending over to pick it up, she proceeded to inspect the thing.  “This?”

“Will you hand it over, please?”  I gritted my teeth.

She popped it into my hand. “You don’t have to be so pissy.”

My laugh held all the exasperation I felt as I turned back to my work.  “Says the girl with no basic tool knowledge.”

“What’s your problem?”

“My problem?”  Finishing up with the wrench, I put it down, then turned to find her, hands on her hips, sporting an irritated expression.

“Yeah, what’s your problem?  You haven’t taught me anything today, you stuck me on cleaning duty, and you’re behaving like a jackass!”

I ran a palm down my face in frustration.  “I can’t work like this.  We have two days to get that master prepped for Friday and all you care about is your kitchen.  We’re behind schedule, Morgan, and since you never bothered to tell me that you knew nothing about anything-”

“I know how to paint!”

I guffawed.  “Do you see a fucking wall that’s ready for that yet?  For Christ’s sake, woman, you don’t even know the difference between a Reed & Prince and a Phillips screwdriver!”

“I fail to see where this has anything to do with you teaching-”

“I don’t have time!”  She jumped, her eyes widening at my yelling.  Regretting my loss of temper, I decided to shut up and get back to work before I said or did anything I’d regret.  Asking her to hire on some temporary help could wait until I’d calmed down.

When I finished with the water line, I realized that my habitual flower-scented shadow was absent, and that loud rock music was coming from upstairs.

As I walked up each tread, I became aware of loud banging that accompanied the muffled tune of AC/DC.  The closer I got, the words to
Highway to Hell
made my lips quirk up, and then I heard a crash of broken glass.

My steps halted at the only closed door – the door to Morgan’s bedroom.  I reached for the knob.

The disaster I took in was nothing compared to what I found collapsed in the middle of the floor.  By the outside wall lay a sledgehammer and what were remnants of the drywall that used to be her bedroom wall.  Morgan had torn down an entire wall and had obviously started on the next, seeing as the large gaping hole was hard to miss.

The next thing that caught my eye was the broken frame that lay on the floor with shards of glass around it. A large one in particular had a substantial amount of blood smeared on its surface.

My feet moved quickly.  “Fucking hell, Morgan!”  I grabbed the hand that she held pressure to.  “Let me see.”

“Just get out,” she said in a hushed tone, keeping her face averted from me.  “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.  Let me clean you up.”

Leading Morgan to the bathroom, I motioned her back toward the toilet.  “Sit down.”

She did as I requested.  “I’m fine.”

“Let me.  Where’s your First Aid kit?”

“Under the sink.”

Fetching it, I kneeled between her legs, popped the kit open and began to look through it, making sure I had what I needed.

“Give me your hand.”  The heated jolt that hit me then nearly knocked me onto my ass.  Focusing on her wound, I was relieved to see that the bleeding had slowed. Taking some gauze, along with some rubbing alcohol, I cleaned the gash that crossed the palm of her hand, eliciting a pain-filled hiss from her. Remembering that my mother used to do this with mine and Paxton’s numerous cuts and bruises when we were younger, I blew on her wound.  Morgan’s breath caught, and my gaze moved to meet hers.  “You okay?”

“Yeah.”  She cleared her throat.

Applying some antibacterial ointment to the cut, I covered it with a bandage and taped it in place.

Finished with my small paramedic stent, I set her First Aid kit back where I’d retrieved it.  “Stay here for a bit.  You’re looking a little pale.”  Getting to my feet, I took the waste basket with me and left the bathroom to pick up the mess of glass shards that had been left on the floor by her bed.

Kneeling, I grabbed the damaged photo frame, studying the two grinning faces staring back.

“Kayla, Damon’s wife, took that one of us before Damon deployed.” Morgan’s words held a hint of darkness.  “We were having a party in Damon’s honor.”

I nodded, my mouth feeling drier than the Sahara Desert.  “You were close,” I stated more than asked, looking up at her approaching form.

She sniffled, reaching out for the frame I still held. “Yeah.  We did everything together,” she explained.  “When Mom and Dad died, we looked after each other. We found out about this place through their will.  It was our grandparents’, only we thought Dad had sold it because of his falling out with them.”

“I bet you’re wishing that he had, huh?”

“No.” Her answer was firm.  “As much as this house needs help, this is where Damon and I felt most at home while growing up.  We sold our parents’ house and moved here and started fixing it up with my sister-in-law, but then he had to leave.” She took a seat at the foot of her bed, looking down at the photo.  Her tears started up again.  “Did you know that today’s his birthday?”

My chest tightened, my eyes burned, and my knuckles had gone white from clenching my fists.  I shook my head solemnly and whispered, “I’m sorry.”  After breathing it out for a few seconds, I attempted to lift my head.  My eyes found her bloodshot orbs and all I saw was pain, grief, and desolation.  The walls began to close in around me.  “God, I’m so sorry,” I croaked and got to my feet as my vision blurred.  “I’ve got to get out of here.”

Without another word, I did just that.

I made it as far as to the side of my truck before the constriction in my chest caused me to halt.  The internal dam threatened to give way, but with each passing second, bent over, leaning on my knees, I sucked in much-needed air that seemed to help control my turbulent emotions.

Or so I thought.

Running my hands through my lengthening hair, the military style no longer really distinguishable, I clenched my tresses and kicked the tire as my breathing picked up again due to so many fleeting memories of Damon and the rest of my team.  And the first tears from what had transpired three years ago began to fall.

And I allowed them, because I could give into the grief.  The guilt.  The anger.  Unlike three years ago.

I didn’t acknowledge the crunching of rocks underfoot, nor the presence beside me, until a gentle hand laid itself on my shoulder.  That simple touch proved to be too much, and I found myself crumbling to my knees with Morgan trying to keep me on my feet, and failing miserably.

Forced into straddling my lap, she clutched the back of my neck and hugged me to her chest in a death grip, rocking us back and forth in an effort to soothe the sobs that shook my body.

“You’re fine,” she whispered after a while, and I felt her lips on the top of my head.  “You’re safe.  It’s okay.  I’m here.”

“If you only knew.”  My voice quivered.

“Shh.”  She began to rub my back.

Feeling one of her tears trickle down the side of my face, I pulled away, her arms giving a little at her grip.  I chanced a look at her, and couldn’t help but cup the sides of her face and brush the tears that had streaked her cheeks with the pads of my thumbs.

The look of emotional turmoil.  The pain. 
You did this to her.
  I cast my eyes downward, the guilt and shame overwhelming me.  “I shouldn’t be here.” But I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

“Y-you were there.”  She gulped. “You didn’t just know him in passing, did you?”

I shook my head.  “He was with my team.”

“You know what happened?”

“More than anyone else.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, the air in my lungs having turned to fire.  “I’m the only one left from that day.  I relive it every single day, Morgan.”

Her breath released with a whoosh.  “Sergeant T?”  I hadn’t heard that moniker in far too many years, which had my eyes snapping to hers. I nodded, her eyes widening.

Instead of plying me with questions, her hands tightened on the sides of my neck and pulled me back in.  I knew I shouldn’t, but my arms wrapped around her and pulled her tight against me as more sobs broke the surface on both our parts.

As we regained our wits, I buried my face in Morgan’s neck.  She smelled of flowers and fresh air mixed with a subtle hint of sweat from her labor.  It was soothing and intoxicating all at once. 

Nuzzling the pulse by her ear, I felt heat flare on the skin beneath my lips.  “I’m sorry,” I whispered and kissed her where I had just nuzzled and pulled back to hold her face between my palms.  “I’m so sorry,” I kissed her cheek.  “I’m so fucking sorry, Morgan,” I said yet again and kissed her other cheek as my body shook with so much pent up remorse that had yet to be released.  “I’m-”

Her lips crushed mine in a kiss that seared.  I tasted her sweetness combined with the salt of our mixed tears.  When her tongue traced the seam of my mouth, I opened for her, and she moaned as velvet met velvet.

Knowing I needed to get control of myself, I slowed things down.  We sipped at each other before I finally pulled away and laid my forehead against hers.

Trying to regain my breath, I looked at the woman before me; her face flushed and blotchy from her tears, her eyes closed.  The tension that had been present in her expression earlier was absent.

Rubbing my nose against hers, she opened her eyes, and my regret was instantaneous when I saw the fires of passion in them.

“Theo,” she whispered at the same time I said, “Morgan.”

She leaned in for another go, and as much as it thrilled me that our attraction was mutual, I couldn’t allow myself to give in, no matter how much I wanted to.  So I turned my head to the side. Morgan pulled back and when our eyes met, all traces of passion had left, and in its stead, hurt reigned.  She looked as if I’d slapped her across the face.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just…” I shook my head and sighed.  “I can’t.”

She grabbed my face, forcing my eyes to meet hers.  “At least look at me when you’re rejecting me.  I think I deserve that much.”

“You deserve that and a lot more than what I can give you, Morgan.  I just can’t.”

“You’ve said that already.” She shoved my shoulders and got up off of me.

“I’m no good.”

“What am I, seventeen?”  She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.  “I think I can figure out what’s good for me and what’s not, Theo.  I’m a grown-ass woman.”

“I’d say you’re right, but in this case…” I allowed my voice to trail off.

She threw her hands up in the air in defeat, “Fine!” then turned on her heel, heading toward the house. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, slamming the door behind her.

I got to my feet, dusted off my jeans and jumped in the truck, cranking it.  “Yeah, tomorrow,” I said to no one in particular.

A near sleepless night, a cold shower, and some palm action later, my desire to be near, to hold, to possess Morgan had only grown stronger.  The dream I had of her when I managed to fall asleep for all but a few hours had definitely not helped my situation, either.

The mere memory of Morgan’s lips on mine, her taste, the way she gave as much as she got had my dick standing at attention in seconds.  It’s too bad I couldn’t be with her.  Not after all the heartache I’d caused her.  But she didn’t know the half of it.

Still, part of me felt like an ass for pushing her away, while the other felt justified that I had done the right thing.  She deserved to be happy, to be loved, to feel whole and cherished by a whole
man.  And I wasn’t one of those anymore.  I hadn’t been for a while.  Not since
that
day.

Giving up on sleep, and regardless of the above, I lay awake trying to come up with reasons to justify that I could be the man for her.  Fuck, did I ever want to be.

But you can’t.

There was nothing aside from my body and physical release that I could offer anyone – especially her.  I was nothing but a shell of a man, a broken one at that.

No, I was better off alone.  Miserable.

People don’t get hurt when you don’t get involved with them.  It was for the best.  Trust me, I know it’s a cop-out, but it beats me failing anyone again.  I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I failed again.

Running a hand through my hair and down my face, I got ready for another day at Morgan’s, dread mixing with anticipation.

I parked the truck and dragged my feet toward the front steps as Morgan pinned something on the door and practically ploughed into me as she turned to rush toward her van, if the jingling of the keys in her hand were any indication.

“Whoa!” I grabbed onto her upper arms.  “Where are you going in a hurry?”

“Theo,” she said a little breathlessly.  “I…uh,” she paused to swallow. “I won’t be around for the next couple of days.”

She was avoiding me.  The realization held a lot more disappointment than warranted.

Yet, weren’t you the one who wanted distance? 
“I thought you said that you didn’t have to work?”

“I don’t, but something else came up.”  She avoided my gaze.

“Is everything all right?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t it be?”

I shrugged. 
Because of that kiss.  Because I can’t get you out of my head.  Because you clearly want more than what happened – and maybe so do I.
Instead I said, “When will you be back?”

“Monday at the latest.  Look, I need to get going.”  She turned and ripped the paper, which looked like a note, off of the door.  “I know that you’ve got the roof, walls, and windows covered, and I don’t want to slow this whole thing down.  I thought about it last night, and maybe you should hire some extra hands for some of the other things.  You know what needs doing.  I trust you.”

What the fuck?
  I thought I would have had an uphill battle, despite her seeing me so unhinged during our argument yesterday.  “So that’s it?”

“It’s best that I’m not around, anyway.  I’d just get in the way.”

If you did, I wouldn’t mind.
  Whoa!  Where’d that thought come from?  As quickly as it had, however, I pushed it out of my head.  “Okay.”  She stopped at her vehicle and stood with the door open, looking as if she had something else to say, but she remained silent.  “Have a safe trip.”  She nodded, leaning into the van to drop her duffle bag on the passenger seat before getting behind the wheel.  Next thing I knew, she cranked the old beater and peeled out of the driveway as if the hounds of hell were on her tail.

Well that wasn’t awkward.

With a bit of relief, I watched the remnant of crushed rock dust dissipate, rubbing between my pecks at the burning sensation I felt there.  She was running. I had used that tactic more than once or twice in my life.  It’s too bad I hadn’t done just that before she did.  It might have hurt less.

For that brief moment she’d bumped into me, all I had wanted to do was cradle the back of her head, fuse my lips to hers, and taste her over and over again.

“You’re no good for her, dumbass,” I mumbled as I slid the key Morgan had left me the other day into the lock and turned to hear the deadbolt’s click.

Morgan’s scent engulfed me as I let myself inside.  Her words from yesterday played as if on a loop in my mind.
I think I can figure out what’s good and what’s not… I’m a grown ass woman.

One thing was certain, when Morgan got back, she and I needed to talk.