Lucas
The shrill sound has me on my feet, gun drawn and at the ready before my subconscious is fully awake. Confused, I look around. The adrenaline pumping through my blood demands I neutralize the threat, but all I see is Nero standing on the bed. His head is cocked to one side like he’s wondering if I’ve lost my damn mind. Maybe I have, considering what sent me into a panic is nothing more than my cell phone alarm.
Dropping back to the bed, I reach for my phone to turn off the offending sound. De-cocking my sig, I set it on the nightstand, then rub my hands over my face. What a fucked-up way to end a semi-decent night of sleep. The first I’ve had in… well, who knows?
Standing, I walk over to my pack. Grabbing the pair of dark wash jeans that sit at the top, I slip them on, securing my belt so I can holster my weapon. Still lounging on the bed, Nero yawns wide. A lazy whine follows as he stretches and scoots closer to the edge of the bed to get near me. After a quick pat on his furry head, I walk past in search of the bathroom. My list of to-dos for the day is far longer than I originally anticipated, so it’s important I get started.
Though my conversation with Embree was cathartic in a lot of ways, it also opened a host of complications for me. For starters, now that I’m planning to reconnect with Jenny, I think it’s best that I hold off on the sale of our childhood home.
I need to have a discussion with her first. See if maybe she wants to keep it instead, which means the first thing on my list is to call the realtor and ask her to postpone today’s closing. If it turns out Jenny wants to keep the place, I’ll work with the buyer to pay out whatever penalties come as a result of breaching the purchase agreement. It’s the least I can do for her, given what I’ve put her through. Either way, I’ll leave the decision to sell up to her.
Flushing the toilet, I stand in front of the sink. First, I wash my hands before reaching for my toothbrush. As is habit, I hesitate to look at myself in the mirror, because though I know the reflection is mine, my brain doesn’t always recognize the man staring back at me.
Dissociative PTSD, with depersonalization and derealization. That’s the official diagnosis in my military file, but fuck if I trust what the Navy docs say. For months, I told them something wasn’t right. I’d begged for them to please help me understand what was happening. But it wasn’t until I admitted myself to a civilian mental health facility that they finally started listening.
According to the so-called experts, my symptoms are a natural reaction to the trauma I experienced while in captivity, but fuck! Feeling disconnected from who I am. Not recognizing my physical body as my own. Walking through my days feeling like I’m stuck in some strange dream state. Nothing about this condition feels normal or natural to me. Thankfully, my symptoms are much improved from what they were a year ago. It’s a trend I can only hope continues.
Back in the bedroom, I’m reaching for my phone to call the realtor when a knock comes through the door. Wasting no time, Nero runs to check it out, his nose sniffing the ground like he’s trying to assess the intent of whoever’s standing on the other side.
After grabbing a black t-shirt, I signal for Nero to step back so I can look through the peephole. I see the profile of a man, but the way he’s standing makes it hard to see his face. I’m not sure if it’s an Inn employee or someone else, so just in case, I reach back to confirm my weapon is within reach. Satisfied, I open the door to find the last person I expected to see.
“Holy. Shit. Lucas fucking Holt. Will wonders never cease? What the fuck are you doing back in town?”
The asshole walks right around me like he owns the place. Like I’m not standing here, purposely attempting to block his entrance.
“Ben,” I say his name in a sharp tone. Stepping aside, I eye him suspiciously. Nero stands between us, his gaze shifting from me to him, and then back again, as he emits a low warning growl. “How did you know I was here?” I ask him, my voice low and threatening.
I haven’t seen this fucker in damn near 15 years, so to have him walk into my room like this raises my hackles. Seemingly unfazed by the threat of an angry Navy SEAL and his killer attack dog, Ben smirks.
“Let’s just say I’m at the top of the town’s speed dial for reporting suspicious activity. Even with all that…” he waves his hands at my face, “scruff, our facial recognition had no trouble identifying who you were.”
“Facial recognition? The fuck?” Suddenly on high alert, my body tenses.
“Stand down, asshole. You need to relax. I’m here to get some face time with my best friend, who fell off the face of the earth years ago and just reappeared out of the blue. It’s good to see you, man.” He reaches up to pat my shoulder. Though the smile on his face is genuine, I’m having a tough time wrapping my head around how he found out I was here.
“That doesn’t tell me shit. Why the fuck are you looking into me?”
“Okay, look…” He raises his hands in the universal signal for calm down. “It’s not like that. I’m the owner of a security company here in town, and folks often reach out to ask that I look into anyone who looks suspicious. If you’ve forgotten, that’s Ruby Creek town speak for outsiders. It normally doesn’t go beyond me checking someone out to make sure they aren’t a threat, and I certainly don’t go around knocking on their doors to say hello. The only reason I’m standing here is because it’s you.”
It’s a reasonable explanation, I guess. Though I’m wondering what the hell he’s expecting me to say. The surrounding silence grows louder as we stare at each other awkwardly.
“So… how the hell have you been? Last I checked, you were still in the service. Are you out now?”
Last he checked? Again, what-the-fuck?
“I’m out,” I retort.
“Cool, cool. So, are you planning to reach out to your sister? Or Emilia?”
The audacity of this asshole has me seeing red.
“That’s none of your goddamn business. Who do you think you are, and why the hell are you here?”
“I told you. I’m here because you’re back, and your presence in this town affects people I care about. People like my wife, for starters,” he says casually. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he steps further into the room and looks around.
“Your wife?” My mind goes back to the awkward conversation I had with Embree about her husband, and suddenly I’m looking at my former best friend with a whole new sense of scorn.
“Yep.”
Yep? Yep! This guy must have a death wish. Something Nero must sense, for he lunges forward with a loud snarl. It’s his power move. His version of “You better watch yourself, asshole!”
“Nero, los,” I tell him without so much as a look in his direction. My eyes remain glued to the man, pushing all my buttons. “And who, pray tell, is your wife?”
I square my shoulders, my fist clenching at my side as I prepare for his answer. Ben Chelsey was always an arrogant prick to the outside world, but to those he trusted, he was fiercely loyal and a devoted friend. That he’s approaching me this way aligns with his loyalty to the girls. He doesn’t trust me, and this show is his way of reminding me where I stand.
“Your sister,” he turns to face me. His face is hard, and I can tell he’s waiting for my reaction.
“Jenny? You married my sister, Jenny?” If the thought of him and Embree damn near sent me over the edge, the reality that he’s with my sister damn near knocks me on my ass.
“The one and only. Which is why your presence here matters to me. A whole fucking lot, given that to this day, she’s never gotten over the way you left her. So, it’s my turn now dickhead, why the fuck are you back and are you planning to see her?”
Christ! Now I get why he’s here. He’s protecting her… from me! Which hurts like hell, but is no less than I deserve and what I would do if I were in his shoes. As much as I want to punch him in the face, I guess I owe him my gratitude since he’s the one who stepped up to take care of her while I couldn’t. The way I see it, I lost my right to have any say in her life the day I chose to leave her.
Walking over to my pack on the floor, I pull out the manila envelope and hand it to him. Something tells me this conversation will go better if I provide hard facts and proof of my intent, and these documents should do the trick.
Taking it, he sits on the edge of the bed and reads through the paperwork.
“You’re selling your parent’s house?”
“I was, but I’m putting the sale on hold until I talk to Jenny.”
Looking up at me, he asks, “So, you are here to reconnect with her?”
I could lie. Use this chance to make it look like I was always planning to do the right thing, but I won’t. Given what I’ve done, honesty feels like the best way to get back into his good graces. Plus, by how he’s looking at me, I’d venture to say that, like me, he’s been trained to read through bullshit.
“Originally, no, but I ran into Emilia yesterday and she convinced me it was time. After giving it some thought, I agree. I’m here to make things right and it starts with the house. If she wants it, I want her to have it.”
The look of surprise on his face catches me off guard. Especially when he hands the documents back to me with a big smile on his face. It’s then that his eyes land on Nero, almost like he’s seeing him for the first time.
“I like your dog. He seems far better company than you. You always were a prickly fucker. Nice to see that hasn’t changed…” he trails off. Standing, he walks towards Nero who eyes him with uncertainty. “Can I pet him, or will he try to eat me?”
Squatting down beside him, I give Nero a good rubdown. My hands help to release the tension in his muscles and, as I knew it would, it sets him at ease. When his tail begins to wag, I give Ben the all-clear.
“My, you’re a handsome boy.” Ben’s praise cuts off when his hand rubs over the bare patches of skin under Nero’s neck and shoulder. Looking at me, he asks, “Some of these feel like bullet wounds. What’s his story?”
Needing something to take the edge off from the memories this topic of conversation conjures, I walk over to the minibar and pull out two small bottles of vodka. Not typically my drink of choice at seven in the morning, but hell, beggars can’t be choosy.
“Drink?” I ask with my back to him.
“No thanks. I have a strict policy of no drinking until at least 11:59 in the morning,” he chuckles. “You’re not some kind of alcoholic, are ya?”
“Nah. Just wasn’t expecting some asshole showing up to dredge up my dark past.” Breaking the seal off the small bottle, I throw it back and swallow it down in one gulp. Tossing the bottle in the trash, I reach for the second one and do the same.
“That bad.” It’s not a question, but a statement. “You two serve together?”
“Something like that,” I tell him, taking a seat in the recliner at the corner of the room. Ben is back to sitting on the edge of the bed, Nero’s head on his lap as he continues to stroke his head. “We were part of the same team and were injured on the same mission. We almost died. When we lost our place in the Navy, I adopted him. Figured it was the least I could do after all the times he saved our asses.”
“Christ, I can only imagine.”
I’m grateful he asks nothing more. He’s a smart guy, so he can probably guess how our story ended. Especially as I watch his fingers continue to examine the evidence of war that will forever remain on Nero’s skin. When he meets my gaze, he’s smiling again.
“She’s going to be thrilled when she finds out you’re back. You said you spoke to Emilia. How did she handle seeing you? And by the way, those two are still thick as thieves. Chances are she’ll be on the phone with Jen at any moment if she hasn’t already.”
“I asked her not to tell her. It’s something I need to do for myself.” At this, he nods in agreement. “Embree took it well enough, I guess. There were lots of tears, smiles, and anger.” Now I’m the one smiling, which is weird for me. “I deserved her ire, though, and her sadness. The jury’s still out on whether I deserve the smiles.”
I stare off into the distance, thinking back to our goodbye yesterday when I dropped her back at the rest stop. She was the first to move, wrapping her arms around me like she was afraid to let me go. Then, when she kissed my cheek, her lips lingered on my skin for a few breaths, and Christ! I damn near embarrassed myself. I wanted to kiss her so fucking bad it took every bit of my self-control to hold back.
“She’s an amazing girl.”
“She always was,” I affirm, looking at my old friend. For the first time since he arrived, it doesn’t feel like we’re strangers.
“So Jen, are you planning on seeing her today? Because if you are, here’s where you can find her. I suggest you show up at the time listed on the card. Nora, her assistant, knows you’re coming and will be there to cover the store. Take the opportunity to whisk her away to someplace where you can get on your knees and grovel. Make the apology a good one, Holt.”
He stands, patting Nero’s head one last time, before he hands me a business card and then heads towards the door. As he goes to walk out, he turns to me with a stern look, “This is the only chance I’m giving you to make things right with her, Holt. Don’t you dare disappoint her or, I promise, you won’t like the consequences.”
With that unfriendly threat hanging in the air, Ben Chelsey sees himself out. Leaving nothing behind but my jacked-up nerves, as everything I didn’t want to happen, is now all but guaranteed.
“Guess I can’t back out now,” I sigh.
Fucking Ben.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author’s Note:
Ben Chelsey is the man! In case you didn't read the prequel to this series, Ben is Lucas's best friend. He didn't have the best home life growing up, so he's a no-nonsense kind of guy, who's full of sarcastic, passive-aggressive remarks that make it hard to tell if he's being serious or not. He is also fiercely protective of those he loves, to the point he's willing to cross lines others won't.
But the thing with Ben is, he's often the voice of reason, and he possesses the uncanny ability of manipulating Lucas into making decisions that if left to his own devices, he would never have the courage to make for himself.
So what do you think of Ben? I can’t wait to read all your comments!
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