Corps Security: The Series (11 page)

“Baby girl, this pains me. I feel guilty as shit right now. You might be able to forget, or try to, but I can’t. I know what last night has cost you and I can’t sit back knowing you are in pain.” He shakes his head, his blue eyes losing that bright shine. “I should have known, but . . . fuck, Iz, I didn’t ever know him as Axel.” He pauses again. Whether he is going for dramatic flair or just trying to figure out the best way to piss me off, I don’t know, but right when I get ready to freak the fuck out on him, he continues. “I have only ever known him as Reid. When we met at basic, he was H. Reid, and from then on, we only ever called him Reid, Axel . . . Fuck, baby girl, but he was never Axel. When we first got out and he started up his security gig, that was the only other time I have ever heard him refer to himself as anything other than Reid, and I promise you this—it was not Axel.”

Why is this so important? If I didn’t care so much about my friendship with Greg, I would fucking kill him. Go all crazy white girl on his ass. “Holt, right?” I laugh without humor. “He always hated that name. Said it reminded him of his old man,” I mumble, back to picking at the invisible lint. “Greg, can we please, please not do this right now?”

He looks at me, assessing for a while, taking me in, and once again trying to figure out how to weigh his words. “Iz, we are fucking doing this. I won’t let you sit here and fester in your hurt. Not when I can fix it. Not when I have the power to do something this time.” Hard and spitting. No argument. His tone leaves no room for wiggling. He’s settled in and ready to go at it.

Stubborn fucking ass. We really are too much alike sometimes.

“I’m fine, really. I just need to process,” I lie. He knows I’m lying; I can see it in his face. He might have come in ready to play, but he didn’t have this hardness about his eyes at first. My lying just confirmed his thoughts that I’m not handling this well.

“You aren’t fine, baby girl. Far from it, and if you expect me to sit here and buy that plate of shit you are insisting on dishing up, you’re out of your fucking mind. You forget I know you. That play won’t work with me.”

“Greg, seriously?” I screech. “Are you fucking serious right now? I am not trying to serve you some shit. I just don’t want to go there. It really is just as simple as that. I have no hidden motive here. Just give me a goddamn break. You know . . . You fucking know what he meant to me. Could you just give me a minute to, I don’t know, process this shit? Dead, G. He has been dead for twelve years and all of a sudden he isn’t. That isn’t something I can just wake up and deal with.” I can tell I struck a nerve and I might feel bad if I wasn’t so pissed off. He isn’t letting me figure this out. He isn’t letting me think. I just want a second, just a fucking second to wrap my head around this colossal mindfuck.

He looks a little more understanding after my outburst—not by much—but I can see that he is trying hard to see this from my shoes. “I’ll give you today, Izzy, but hear me this. We will be talking about this. No pushing it away, no locking this in tight. The can has been opened, and try as you might, there is no way you’re getting those worms back in.” He squeezes my leg and stands, leveling me with one more serious look before he turns to stomp heavily out of my room, firmly snapping the door shut behind him.

Well, that went well.

I know he is right. I do. I have to deal with this. I might not want to, and it isn’t going to be pretty, but I have to face this. With everything else going on, it isn’t something I even want on my radar, but it’s there. I’ll deal with it, but on my terms, and it will not be today.

I lie back down and roll onto my side facing the big picture window, looking up into the bright, cloudless Georgia sky. What a fucked-up mess. I still have to deal with Brandon, the divorce—or actually the lack of one—and his continued reminders that he is in my life and knows how to reach me . . . how to hurt me. Now I have to deal with Axel and a past I have been struggling to forget and move on from for almost half of my life. Oh how cruel fate is.

* * *

It really is funny sometimes how everything comes full circle. Just when you think your life is headed in one clear-cut direction, the light turns red and the turn signal comes on. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish my parents were still here, happily residing a few counties over in our old small three-bedroom ranch. If I hadn’t lost them, I never would have had Dee come into my life, and even though it doesn’t take away the pain of their loss, I have to consider myself lucky on some counts. Even through the dark times of my marriage, when our contact was few and far between, I always knew she was there and always would be.

Through Dee came Greg, another thing I wouldn’t have in my life if my parents had survived that wreck. He is another person Dee roped in with her overwhelming personality. She met him when she was dating his cousin, and even though the cousin didn’t last, her friendship with Greg did. She can’t help it. She just has something about her that people want to be around. She has that permanent outlook that everything is right in the world. And lucky for me, he just happened to be close the night she came to save me, even though I don’t remember him showing up with her. By the time she made it to me, I had completely blacked out. The first time I saw him, my initial reaction had been fear; Greg mad is not someone you want to be around. When he saw me step out of the van that day, his reaction scared the shit out of me. Huge, raging mad, and ready to kill. No one was more shocked than I was when the feral giant turned human shield. He was ready to protect me from anything, and that has never changed.

I know I am lucky with the friendships I have with Dee and Greg. They are the only two people I have left in the world. The only two people I know would die before they hurt me. They are my family now—family I sometimes want to hurt, but family nonetheless. It is hard sometimes to deal with all my fuckedupness. I know it isn’t easy for them. When I have a setback, they both have to deal with it right alongside of me. I go and crawl into myself, Dee goes into worried mother mode, and Greg goes into his protective grizzly alpha persona.

Dee and I are close, and we will always be, but Greg and I share a bond of loss and heartache no one else will ever touch. I still remember the look he had in his eye when he told me about his sister. That was the only time I have ever seen his hard self shed a tear. I broke down, clinging to him, mourning his sister, but also feeling the pain the last six years of my life had imbedded in me with the stark, cold knowledge that I could have had a very different ending. That was the day he promised me he wouldn’t let my husband touch me, the day he promised to do everything he could to keep the pain at bay.

I roll back over and stare up at the ceiling, following the fan’s rotations with my eyes, letting the memories of the past come rolling back over me.

I remember when I was as constantly happy as Dee, always looking at the world with rose-colored goggles. I wasn’t the most popular girl in school, but I had a good number of close friends. My childhood was so full of laughter and love; my parents were the things dreams are made of. They were always happy, always smiling, and always full of love. Love for me and love for life. For a parent-child relationship, ours wasn’t the most conventional. I could go to them with anything and they never cast judgment or scorn. Not a day went by that I didn’t feel the joy I had brought into their lives.

I was lucky enough to meet the love of my life young. We had a relationship that reminded me of my parents.’ Always happy, always smiling, and always full of love. I had three of the best young and dumb years in my life with that boy.

I thought I was untouchable, and I thought that our love was unbreakable. Together we could overcome anything that life threw at us. By his side, I was complete.

Axel left for boot camp three days after he graduated from high school, and that, unfortunately, meant he was leaving me behind in the process. I understood this. Hell, I had even rallied behind him. I wanted what would make him happy, and I knew he was setting his own path, proving to the world that he was nothing like his parents, who had cared more about their next big fix than their own son. Axel had been living in and out of foster homes for the better part of his eighteen years, and knowing he had nothing to offer me for a solid future, he did the only thing that made sense to him; he enlisted in the Marines.

Together, with my parents by my side, we dropped him off at the bus station with a promise to reunite and live out all of our dreams when I graduated the next year. That day was the first hard day of my life.

I let a bitter laugh escape my lips when I think back to all those stupid dreams. They are funny things, the dreams of an innocent teen. You never know when you’re planning them that you are planning nightmares instead.

I wasn’t too broken by him leaving. Sure, I was upset, but I knew that he would be back; he would return to me. My parents planned a few trips that summer to keep my mind off missing Axel, at least until I could hear from him again. I was so excited for that day, even knowing it might just be a letter. I couldn’t wait to hear about all the changes he was encountering and how he was dealing with them and without me.

But that day never came. Two weeks after I waved goodbye to my love, my parents were killed in a car accident. I was devastated and heartbroken. Looking back now, I can say that was the start of my downward spiral. I didn’t deal with their deaths well, especially without Axel there to ground me. My parents had both been only children, and my father’s parents had been long gone before I was even born. With no other family left to take over my care, I was shipped off to live with my mom’s parents in North Carolina. Even through all my grief, I still held on to the hope that Axel would be back in my arms again and that he would take all that pain away. I loved my grandparents. Don’t get me wrong. But they were older and just didn’t know how to deal with my pain on top of their own.

I had left their address in the care of Axel’s foster mother, June. I knew she hated me, but I had hoped that if I couldn’t contact him, this would be the next best thing.

The fog from my parents’ death had finally left me when I found out I was almost two months pregnant. It had been almost a month since I’d lost them and not a day had gone by that I hadn’t felt the stabbing grief, but this pregnancy gave me something to focus on. Something to look forward to. It was Independence Day when I found out, ironic enough. I remember sitting in the bathroom of my grandparents’ house, thinking I had the next best thing to having Axel with me—a piece of him and our love. I was still scared; what seventeen-year-old wouldn’t be? I was basically alone and pregnant. I loved that baby from the second I saw the positive test strip. I just knew that any baby created with our love would be beautiful.

With a new lease on life, I started to move on and plan for our new future. I couldn’t wait to share the news with him. Every day I wrote to him, sending the letters off to his old foster home. Not knowing where he’d settled, I thought that was the next best thing. It worried me that I hadn’t heard from him, but I knew he would find me. He would always find me.

I was around ten weeks pregnant when I got a letter in the mail from June. She told me to stop sending my letters to her house, because Axel wasn’t coming back and he had told her to let me know to leave him alone. I was confused and heartbroken. My Axel wouldn’t have said that. He loved me; we had a future together.

I tried to write him at the base he’d originally arrived at, but my letter was returned, saying that there was no one there by that name. I didn’t know what to do. I knew June had told me that he wanted me to leave him alone, but I felt he deserved to at least know about the baby. So with no other options, I tried to contact June again. I wrote her a letter detailing the importance of having Axel contact me. The letter I got in return shocked me to the core.

I opened the letter and immediately the smell of smoke wafted around my head. Unfolding the single piece of paper, I read the words that stopped my world from spinning.

Two words.

He’s dead.

I couldn’t believe it. I just couldn’t. June had to be lying. I tried to write him at the base again, but my letter was returned, saying that they were sorry but no solider by that name was listed in active duty. When that letter came back, it was then that I believed June and I shattered.

It was two weeks later that I lost our baby.

That was the day I lost all touch of reality and sank into a deep depression filled black hole. I pushed everyone away when I lost that last piece of Ax I had left. I turned to alcohol and spent as much of my hours awake as possible drinking anything my underage hands could find. My grandparents were still dealing with the loss of my mom, and either they turned a blind eye to my behavior or they just didn’t notice. Either way, I was completely alone again, with no hope of Axel saving me this time.

Almost eight months later, Dee burst into my world and slowly brought me back to life. The rest is, as they say . . . history.

History I didn’t think I would have to deal with again.

I don’t know how much time I spend lying in bed, looking off at nothing, remembering those early days. By the time my stomach starts reminding me I need to eat, lunch has long since passed. I pull myself up, mentally dusting myself off, and start off for the shower. I don’t want to be weak again, and I am determined to be strong, to deal with this new fuck you from fate. It is time to dump the old Izzy and start finding the girl I used to be.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m making the trek down to the kitchen, hoping to grab a quick bite to eat alone before I dive into my work. I have a few new clients I need to email back, proposals to be approved, and some sites that need routine maintenance work done. It is all pretty basic, but it will keep my mind busy and off everything else swirling around me.

I have been working for a few hours when I hear the garage door open. “Damn,” I mutter. So much for having a nice peaceful afternoon. Someone coming in means that I won’t be able to completely ignore life around me, which is just smashing. With an overdramatic sigh, I save and close out of the programs I have been working on, shut my laptop, and straighten up all the paperwork I have scattered on the kitchen table.