Fighting Redemption(61)

The door slammed hard behind him.

“Damn you, Ryan!” she shrieked. She grabbed his glass of scotch and threw it hard down the hall. As it shattered against the back of the front door, the world started to fade out.

“Oh please,” she whispered. “No. Not again.”

Lurching backwards, she reached out to hang onto something, but her hands only grabbed air. Her head cracked hard against the table as she went down; the bright burst of pain was the last thing she felt before blackness overwhelmed her.





Ryan stood on the front porch dragging air deep into his lungs. There was something uncontrollable inside him that wanted to beg her not to go. If he’d stayed in there a second longer he would have. He wanted her right here waiting for him when he returned, and all that did was make him a selfish, f*cked up *. Asking her to stay was something he wouldn’t allow himself to do.

Why was it so hard to be normal? He was so tired of trying to pretend he could be the man she deserved. Ryan ran both hands over his face, fighting with all his strength not to open that door and plead for her to never, ever leave him.

Fin needed to be able to see that now, while she was young, was the time to grab this opportunity with both hands. He wasn’t going to stand in the way of that. She was smart. One day she’d realise what she’d let slip through her fingers and resentment would set in.

Putting his hands in his pockets, he looked up at the stars. Would they only ever have those fleeting moments—the ones where you lived the briefest, loved the hardest, and burned like the devil had set fire to your very soul? They were the only moments in his life that had been worth a damn.

“I’m yours, Ryan, and even if you have to leave me, I’ll always be yours.”

Who knew that in the end, it would be her leaving him? With his head still tipped to the night sky, Ryan closed his eyes against the stars that glittered brightly. Fin was slipping right through his fingers and standing there watching it happen was unbearable.

Tugging his phone from his pocket, Ryan dialled as he strode towards his car.

“Kendall,” Kyle answered.

Ryan opened the car door wide and slipped inside. “Up for a drink, mate?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Good. I’ll swing by base, pick you up.”

“See you soon.”

Ryan hung up, tossing his phone carelessly on the passenger seat. It skidded across the leather, falling down the other side and underneath with a loud clunk as Ryan backed out of the drive.

An hour later he was leaning up against the wall of the rowdy bar, tipping back his second scotch, fourth if he bothered to count the two he’d had at home earlier. Fuck. Not home. Fin’s cottage. He couldn’t think of it that way anymore. He wouldn’t live there without her. That would be too painful.

His eyes fell to where Kyle was taking a year of his life to line up a shot at the pool table. They were playing opposite a couple of other SAS soldiers, Nathan and Davis. Both were new to the Regiment, if you counted just over two years new. They’d only seen one season of deployment, but that would change. Ryan would be on his fourth soon and their deployment rotations kept coming around so thick and fast it was almost making him dizzy trying to keep up with two separate worlds.

Ryan waved his empty glass, and Kyle’s eyes tilted upwards from where he leaned over the table, pool cue in his hands. “Another drink?” Ryan shouted.

Kyle gave a nod and went back to dicking around with the angle of his shot.

“Hurry the f*ck up, Brooks,” Nathan complained where he stood by the pool table. Nathan was a big guy—tall and built—so him weaving a little unsteadily told Ryan he must have been drinking since the early afternoon. “You wearing your Grandma’s panties tonight?”

Davis smirked, beer in hand as he leaned against the same wall as Ryan. “He’s just waiting for some guy to pin him on the table and drill his ass.”

Kyle grinned as he finally lined up the shot, refusing to rise to the bait. “Have you seen my ass? Anyone would want to tap that.”

Ryan would’ve laughed if he didn’t feel so sick inside. Kyle met his eyes for a brief moment before taking his shot. The red ball sank hard and fast into the corner pocket as Ryan walked around the table towards the bar.

When he returned with a new round, Kyle moved to his side. “Christ, Kendall. Could you be any less tense?” he said instead of throwing slurs to distract Nathan as he watched him line up his shot. “What the hell is up with you?”

Ryan tossed back the scotch in his hand and picked up the beer chaser. “Fin and I are over.”

Kyle didn’t give anything away except his knuckles whitening around his bottle. “You wanna tell me why?”

“Not really,” Ryan muttered.

“So tell me anyway.”

Ryan swallowed, watching Nathan drop a green ball into the pocket with a loud whoop and point his finger victoriously at the two of them. Kyle ignored him as he waited for Ryan to speak.

“Fin’s been accepted into a research program with the Climate Change Research Centre.”

Kyle arched a brow. “Well that’s f*cking awesome, right?”

Ryan nodded, letting pride make its way to the surface. Goddamn, but his girl was going to get her PhD and wage her own war. The work she would do would give her a voice in the world, and for her, people would stop to listen. “It is.”