Saving Easton (Oakside Military Heroes Book 2)(4)

Chapter 3


Paisley





It's been a few days, since I've seen Easton, but today, we’re heading back to Oakside, and as soon we hit the driveway, Molly sticks her head out of the window. She loves it here, and I can't blame her.

I peek in to see Lexi, but she's on the phone. Without missing a beat, she grabs Molly's treats, gets her one, and gives Molly a good rub down, before handing me the bag and mouthing 'sorry' to me.

I just smile and leave, letting her get to work. I take a few minutes longer than normal to calm my nerves, before we head upstairs.

After leaving Lexi’s office downstairs, my first stop is to see Easton. He's still staring out of the window, but Molly takes off and runs right to him. She sits down in front of him, and he reaches to pet her. Then, she carefully climbs into his lap, resting her head on the arm of the chair and looking at me, as he starts petting her. I swear she forgets she’s supposed to be working because within minutes she’s asleep.

When he doesn't make any effort to look at me, I begin to feel like I'm intruding on his time with Molly. I don't know where we stand after my last visit. I had completely forgotten he doesn't like being touched, and now, I don't know if he even wants me in his space.

"Do you want me to leave her here? I can come back later." I ask him.

"No, you can stay." His voice is scratchy from not being used.

I nod and sit at the end of the couch, closest to the door and furthest away from him.

"Sorry I was rude... the other day. I just... can't stand... being touched." He says slowly, like he’s thinking of each word before he says it.

"I know. Lexi gave me a bit of your background."

His face goes hard with tension and maybe anger.

"Calm down. It's standard for those of us who work with therapy animals. We have to know what to expect for our safety. I don't know the details just what you’re being treated for. For instance, Molly jumped into your lap, but what if you were healing from a leg injury? It could harm you, and I wouldn't allow her to do it."

He nods, and then silence fills the room again. I've noticed he listens a lot more than he speaks, but I want him to talk. His deep, gravelly voice does something to me and makes my body tingle.

"Why don't you like being touched?" I ask.

He’s hesitant to answer, so I push a bit more. "I don't need a lot of details or a sob story. Is it because you don't like the feeling, or is it a trigger?"

"Both. It makes my skin crawl," he says.

Finally, we’re getting somewhere.

"But you’re okay with Molly," I say, more as a statement than a question.

He looks at me, "Yes... and you." He says hesitantly.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm surprised Lexi didn't tell you. I don't talk to people other than my doctors and Noah, and I don't allow anyone, but my doctors in my room. My nurse only a few times."

"No, Lexi didn't tell me," I say lost in thought. "Why don't you like people in your room?"

He looks back out of the window for so long I begin to think he isn't going to answer my question.

Finally, he says, "I don't want any of this to touch you, Paisley."

I close my eyes for a minute and soak in that he finally said my name. He remembers me!

"While you were gone, I grew up, Easton. Before I started coming here, I took Molly to the hospital for a few years. I've seen a lot. Let me help you."

He's quiet again before speaking.

"When the only people who are around are there to hurt you, it conditions you to think a person nearby means indescribable pain, and that anyone nearby wants to hurt you. Though, it's different with you. I'm calm. You don't make me anxious like the others do."

I don't know how long he will be open to talking to me, so I figure I should take advantage of it, while I can.

"Why are you always looking out of the window?"

Again, he doesn't answer me right away, and I wonder if he's back in that room alone or just thinking of exactly what to say.

"I couldn’t see anything outside much less the sun for over a year."

I think about how horrible it must have been for him, knowing he was a prisoner of war and kept where he didn't have contact with anyone, unless they wanted to hurt him. During his captivity, he didn't know if or when he’d see simple things like the sun again, or if he’d even ever be free, and it makes his behavior understandable.

To him the sun and the outside are a reminder of his freedom, and no matter how fast the demons of his past are trying to catch him, he’s still free.

Maybe, it's time to switch to lighter subjects. So, I ask him, "What food do you miss?"

"Pizza." He says without hesitation.

"A home cooked meal?" I ask.

"Yes, your meatloaf particularly."

"The food here is pretty good," I say.

"Yes, but it's all healthy stuff."

"Ahhh, not comfort food," I say understanding.

My phone rings, and I pull it from my pocket.

"Shoot. I'm late for meeting my mom for what I'm sure will be another thrilling lecture of how I'm wasting my life by not giving her grandbabies, and a low down of every single man she knows. She's given up on finding me guys my age, and the last one she tried to set me up with was a fifty-year-old, which freaked me out." I realize I'm rambling and stop.