Wish for You

WISH FOR YOU

By

Marquita Valentine

Copyright © 2014 by Marquita Valentine

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Cover Art by Okay Designs

Professionally Edited by Cynthia Shepp

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To those that serve, and to those who suffer in silence.

You are not alone.

Prologue

Wyatt

You know what goes through your head when you’re in the middle of a war? Absolutely nothing.

If
you’re a Marine, that is. There is no time to reflect on life, no thoughts of could have, would have, or should have. Only two things should be happening in war, a mantra I could chant in my sleep.

React. Recoil. React. Recoil.

Know why? Thinking gets you killed, thinking makes you want to reconsider what you’re doing, what the enemy’s doing, and why you’re even there in the first place.

That’s what happened to my buddy, Nathan. We’d been trading pictures of the girls waiting for us back home, and he’d taken his helmet off for only a minute, but it was about forty-five seconds too long. All because we wanted to think about the future, about dates and homecomings, and soft beds and beer. All because he thought he saw a glint of metal. All because he wanted to question first and shoot later.

But at least those assholes are dead. And at least I carry the scar of that day on my left thigh as a reminder.

I bend down, brushing my hand over the bottom ridge of his gravestone. It’s cold and sharp, yet smooth, like there’s nothing beneath it. Like my battle buddy isn’t laying six-feet deep.

“
Should have been me,” I say, righting the American Flag. My commanding officer should have let me bleed out, right there in the middle of a poppy field.

Strange how beauty and violence had collided that day. Strange how I didn’t think of a single thing, until I was on the ground and staring up at the sky. Then all I could see was
her
. All I could hear was
her
voice.

Only I’d turned to one side and found Nathan’s blue gaze, blank and lifeless. Blood had pooled around his head in some sort of grisly halo.

“
Should have been me,” I growl, slamming my fist on the ground.

Glancing around as I stand, my jaw clenches. Three people are headed this way, and I know exactly who they are.

My stomach twists. I can’t deal with Nathan’s family, not right now. Maybe not ever.

They don’t blame me for his death.

But I do.

Chapter One

Wyatt

The best thing about my therapist is that he never utters the phrase:
Tell me how this makes you feel.

The worst thing—I tell him exactly how I feel.

Dr. Lewis steeples his hands together. “Let me make sure I have this right. You’re upset with Lacey because she no longer wants to have a romantic relationship with you.”

I grit my teeth, not wanting to rehash the entire conversation, but the Doc likes to summarize. A lot. “Yes. She gave me no warning, and we didn’t talk about it. All she said was it wasn’t a good idea, and we should go back to being friends.” See, I can summarize, too, about the girl I love ripping my heart from my chest and crushing it in her hand.

“
Hmmm,” he says. “Do you want to force Lacey change her mind, or will you respect her decision?”

“
A decision she made without me—concerning the two of us—that’s asking a lot.”

“
Maybe you wouldn’t be so upset if you’d—”

“
Not going there. Nathan’s—” I swallow, my gut churning, “death has nothing to do with Lacey arbitrarily changing the rules of our relationship—romantic or otherwise.”

“
At first glance it doesn’t, but Lacey and Nathan have something in common, and the events that transpired with both of them have affected you the same way.”

“
Some girl breaking up with me is trivial compared to a Marine’s death,” I snap, but she’s not just some girl. She’s
The Girl
.
The One
. I glance out the window, through the partially open blinds, and into a manicured flowerbed filled with mums and pansies.

“
So your relationship with
Lacey
is merely trivial?”

“
No. I mean, yes.
No
.” I slice my gaze back to his and lean forward in my chair, placing my elbows on my thighs. “You know what I mean, Doc.”

“
And you know what I mean. Both of them, whether by choice or not, took control of the situation from you—Nathan by dying, and Lacey by rejection.”

I hate that he makes so much sense, yet I’m relieved to know that I’m not out of my mind. That what I feel is so normal that he can
docsplain
it to me. Still…

“
What do you suggest?”

“
I suggest you figure out what’s more important, having Lacey in your life, as only your friend, or not having her in your life at all.”

“
Not having Lacey in my life isn’t an option.”

Dr. Lewis smiles. “There’s your answer.”

“
But neither is being
just friends
with her.” I shake my head, remembering the look in her pretty brown eyes when she told me. The way her lips trembled, and the heartbreakingly familiar way she wound her hair around two of her fingers. She’d looked miserable and upset, like when a crowd of unknown people suddenly showed, or when her parents had moved their entire family to a new house on a different side of town.

“
Then you’re back at square one.”

I rub my jaw, thinking of a way to get out of this. My commanding officer had a saying:
Where there’s a will, there’s a way around it.
All I had to do was find a way around whatever Lacey had in her head,
after
I found out what was going on in her head. For the first time in either of our lives, we were keeping secrets from one another, and I hated it.

But not enough to share with her mine.

“
Try being her friend again, if only for a little while. It might be easier than you think…
if
you put your mind to it.” Dr. Lewis crosses his legs at the ankles. “Consider engaging in friend activities.”

Give me a break.
“Like what?”

“
What did you do before?”

“
I’d go to her roller derby matches, meet her at the skate park, we’d go to dinner, and the movies… stuff like that.” All the things I hadn’t been able to do at all while I was at boot camp and deployed to the Sandbox i.e. Afghanistan. All the things I’d practically thrown myself, headfirst and eyes shut, into because it was so damn normal. No whizzing bullets, no MREs, no locals, no nothing, except my friends, my girl, and my hometown. Everything I could ever want. Everything I dreamed about while serving in that shithole.

“
Those are excellent activities.”

I wanted to roll my eyes over his excitement, but I have to imagine he thought I was having a breakthrough. To be honest, his giddiness amuses me, so I take things one step further. “Maybe next week, I’ll take her to get her nails done and then shopping. Hell, I’ll find her a date to the New Year’s Eve party I’m going to, and I’ll ask some girl, too. Then we can all go together.”

Dr. Lewis’s smile fell. “Wyatt.”

“
What?” I give him my most innocent look. It was one I’d perfected over the years, and was one that my parents trusted. “I’m trying to think of things best friends would do.”

“
You’re being sarcastic and bit vengeful.”

“
By wanting to set Lacey up on a date?” I shrug. “Pretty sure girls do that for each other all the time.”

“
Fine.”

His flippant reply stops me cold. “Excuse me?”

Dr. Lewis rubs the bridge of his nose. If he had been wearing glasses, this would be the perfect time for him to polish the lenses. “If you really want to prove how sincere you are to Lacey, then I suggest you do all of those things
for
her and
with
her.”

Find Lacey a date? Find Lacey some jerk-off to take her to parties and watch her roller derby matches? Find some asshole to be the one to roar her name when she scored and wait for her by the locker room while she changed? Find some douche to listen to her while she goes on and on about the mating habits of worms?

Nuh-huh.
Not happening.

“
Time’s up,” I say, jumping to my feet, and not giving the Doc time to list even more things for me to do with Lacey. I haul ass out to his door. “See you next week. Same time, same place.”

“
I’ll be closing for the holidays, starting this Friday, until after the first of the year. However, if you need me, you have my card. Call, text, or email me.”

“
Yeah, yeah,” I say offhandedly. I’m still fuming at his suggestion, and I’m still fuming at Lacey. It’s been weeks since I’ve actually spoken to her. I didn’t even bother to go to her last game.

Guilt floods my body as I push the door to the front office open and head outside.

I should have been there for her. It was the championship game. Lacey’s team had come in second, and I’d heard she’d gotten hurt pretty bad in the last three minutes of the game. Some chick had tripped her, and sent Lacey flying into the rail. But
my girl
hadn’t let that stop her. According to Cole, Lacey had gotten up and taken the hit like a champ.

“
Not
your
girl,” I remind myself. Small puffs of white air appear in front of my face. It’s nut-freezing cold. I start up my truck with a click of a button, thanking God for heated seats as I slide inside.

Instead of going home, I drive to Beau’s. He lives three doors down from me or, rather, from my parents. I park in his driveway, and I’m not surprised to see him jog outside to greet me as I get out of my truck. He has security cameras everywhere. Guess that’s the life of a NASCAR superstar.

“
Something wrong?” he asks, his eyes darting from side to side. His hair is sticking up everywhere, and he looks like he’s been on a three-day bender. Only he doesn’t smell like booze, women, or anything else I recognize.