Warrior (First to Fight #1)(27)
“Ben?” I ask and I watch his eyes drop again to my lips. My stomach drops and my eyes widen when I finally understand. I want to go to him and I automatically take a step forward to do something, anything, but he steps back.
“Let’s not do this, Liv. It was fun. I’m glad you’re okay. That’s it.”
When I’m not able to find the words for a response, Ben shoots a nod at Logan and turns to walk away. He disappears down the stairs and I feel the thread connecting us snap.
Six Months Later
“IT’S A BEAUTIFUL spot. Panoramic views of the lake—a private lake. It’s a very close community. In fact, the residents are holding a potluck tomorrow night. If you’re free, you should consider joining. I’m sure they’d love to have you.”
My mind flashes to Livvie, but I push that aside.
“Watercrafts are prohibited here,” she continues, “so everything is in pristine condition. You’re getting a prime piece of land at a bargain basement price.” The real estate agent stands in the doorway, her smile just a little too eager and her eyes a little too bright.
I let her sell the whole pitch, but it doesn’t matter.
I decided to buy the house six months ago when I learned it was on the market, before I’d even moved back to Nassau. I figured if it was still here when I got back from my last duty station that I’d buy it. Contacting the real estate agent was the first thing I did when I rolled back into town a few days ago as a civilian once again.
The rooms are empty and her voice carries as I walk down the worn halls. “The previous owner passed away—heart attack—not too long ago, and it’s been sitting on the market ever since.”
I move to the back hallway and out to the deck that looks down to the waterline. This puts the agent on my right side allowing me to tune her out. I already know everything about the place anyway, but I’ve got time to kill and she seemed so damn happy to sell me on it, that I didn’t want to ruin her moment.
There’s movement from the house next door and I wave to a petite woman who eyes me curiously. I feel the vibration of footsteps on the deck floor and turn to catch the end of the agent’s speech.
“With your financing, Mr. Hart, this place could practically be yours tomorrow.” She looks at me expectantly. “So what do you think?”
I think of the last time I felt relaxed. The last time I remember being happy. Both feelings are so foreign right now, that I’ll do damn near anything to get them back. Even buy a house that I know will stir up more shit than I’m ready to handle.
“I’ll take it.”
I look out the floor to ceiling windows and across the very familiar McCormick Lake. I couldn’t let someone have a piece of Olivia’s life. Her childhood home is one of the things she treasures above all else. If I’d f*cked up my chance of being with her, I could at least keep this part of her to myself.
Then again, maybe I’m at a point where I’m ready to stir things up. I remember the last time I saw her, just home from deployment, driving by her house only to find cop cars out front. I was overcome with panic. When she opened the door, greeting me in tiny gym shorts and a snug-fitting tank top, the first thing I wanted to do was crush her tight little body against mine. I was so relieved to see that she was all right. I had missed her so god damned much, despite all the shit I’d been through. But then my worry morphed into anger.
I had always been protective of Olivia, but this was a step further. I was overcome with an irrational level of anger over her not calling her brother to stay with her. At the fact that she was staying alone. At the fact that she didn’t have a god damned alarm system. I knew I was acting crazy, but I was unable to reign my shit in. I knew my recent brain injury was at least in part to blame. The doctors had talked about the mood swings. The short-temperedness. The short-term memory loss that could all result from the TBI. That’s why I knew it wasn’t the right time. That I had to get out of there as fast as possible before I f*cked things up even further. I had gone up the stairs to say goodnight. But when I saw her cradling that baby, I snapped.
“As if I could ever forget you.”
Her words to me from our fateful night in my truck echo in my head. So much for waiting. It was selfish of me to even suggest it at the time. I would be even more of a dick to be upset over the fact that she didn’t when I ignored all her attempts at contact while I was gone. I shouldn’t be surprised that she moved on, and I’m not. But I’m an *, so it doesn’t change that fact that I’m pissed off about it.
Satisfaction spreads over me at the thought of just how pissed off she’s going to be when she finds out about my new address.
“Your mom is going to put me in an early grave, God love her.” Dad closes the hood of the car we’re doing a tune-up on and leans against it. “What’s it to her if I get a motorcycle? I’m old, not dead.”
I lean against the car and take a swig from the water bottle he holds up. “I completely agree with you, old man. I’ve always said she’s crazy, but no one seems to believe me.”
“If she hadn’t spent the last week yammering on about the number of deaths caused by motorcycles each year, I would kick your ass for talking about your mother like that.”
“Just give her time. You know she likes to spout off when she’s pissed about something. She’ll cool off.”