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Authors: Kylie Walker

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BOOK: Asher: A Second Chance Novel
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“Oh Asher,” Mia wrapped her hands around his head and pulled him in tighter against her chest. She kissed the top of his head. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry.”

She felt him shake his head. “No, don’t be sorry. It was what she wanted. She begged me. She didn’t want to hurt anymore. But after it was done, my father told me I killed her and we fought. I left the house to get away from him. I should have come to you, but I needed to feel numb. I went to Dean’s instead and started drinking. Travis was there.”

“It’s not your fault. Travis chose to drink and drive. He was a big boy. As far as your mom, that was a lot to put on a seventeen-year-old boy. I can’t imagine Axel having to go through that. I’m so sorry.”

“I wanted to see you. I was going to drive. Travis insisted he was fine. I was too drunk to know the difference.”

Mia’s eyes filled with tears. Her heart was breaking for him and her brother. “You were just a kid, Asher, you both were. Have you been punishing yourself this whole time?”

He shrugged. “I thought everyone hated me. I couldn’t face my own father, or you. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had done to my mother.”

“Where did you go?”

“I called Dean. He loaned me some money and sent me to live with his aunt in South Dakota. I was only there for a month and then I joined the Army. I worked my way up to Special Ops.” He stopped there and she could tell that he was finished talking about it, for now. She just sat quietly and held him. Every so often she would kiss his head and rock him against her chest. Seventeen years of blaming himself for everything, it was too much.

Eventually Asher laid back and wrapped her up in his arms. She felt cocooned, and safer than she had in years, maybe ever. She drifted off to sleep and for the next five hours or so she experienced the most peaceful slumber of her life. The sun coming in through the blinds the next morning woke her. She smiled when she saw Asher’s face. All the lines of worry that had been there the night before were gone and his long lashes laid fanned out against his high cheekbones as he slept peacefully. She gave him a soft kiss and slipped out of bed quietly to use the bathroom.

As she was washing her hands, she noticed a brown prescription bottle on the counter. She picked it up and took a closer look. It was Asher’s prescription and it had a long name that started with an ‘R.’ Mia didn’t know what it was for and she started to worry that maybe something was wrong with him. What if he was sick? What if she lost him again? She set the bottle back down where she had found it and stepped back into the bedroom. Asher was still sleeping. God, he was so perfect.

She tucked the anxiety away and resolved to enjoy this time. This was what she had craved for nearly two decades. She wasn’t going to waste what time she had with him, worrying about when it would end. She slid back under the sheet and propped herself up on her elbow. She could look at him all day. The smooth lines of his chest made way for the bumpy, deep scars that riddled his abdomen. She let her fingers trace lightly over them and around the tribal tattoo that covered the one on his side. When she looked up at his face, his gorgeous green eyes were open.

“Hi,” he said with a sexy smile.

“Hi.” She was so entranced then by his face and his smile, she had almost forgotten her fingers were on his belly.

“Car accident,” he said.

“What?”

“The scars. They’re from the accident.” She nodded sadly and ran her fingers up to the deep one on his left shoulder. “Gun shot.” She swallowed hard and shivered slightly. Tracing her fingers down to the one on his side she said, “Tell me what happened.”

 

TWENTY ONE

 

 

The only people Asher had ever told about his time on that mountain were his superiors and his psychiatrist. It was something he couldn’t forget about, ever and something he wished he never had to talk about again. But, this was Mia. This was the love of his life that he had hurt deeply. This was the mother of his child. Something he had yet to wrap his head around. He wasn’t about to hold back any longer. He had already lost too much. He sucked in a deep breath and said,

“For the first few years I was in the army, I did nothing but train. They sent me to boot camp, of course, but my instructor saw something ‘more’ in me, he said. What he didn’t know was that it was hurt and anger and guilt that I had turned into aggression because I didn’t know what else to do with it. It didn’t matter to the army anyways. They saw that I was a killing machine in the making. They sent me from boot camp into special weapons training and from there to terrorist tactic training…and on and on for three years. When I was twenty-one they sent me to train with Special Ops in a group called ‘Night Stalkers.’” We learned how to do everything under the cover of night. We would shoot in the pitch dark. We would practice bombings and attacks. We became nocturnal animals basically. Then when I was twenty-three, they sent me to Afghanistan. I would spend my days working out, sleeping, and going over plans for missions, and most of my nights on my belly with my rifle on my arm. I was a night sniper and I was good, the best at what I did. My team became my family and I would have done anything to keep them safe. As the years went on I received a lot of commendations and because of that I was able to move up in the ranks quickly. By the time I was twenty-seven I was commanding my own team. The teams were small, only eight men. I had the same team for the next two tours and they were some amazing guys.” He stopped there as their faces raced across the front of his mind. Suppressing a shiver, he went on. “We were supposed to pull out of Iraq and begin preparing to head home the night before our base was attacked by suicide bombers. One of my men was killed in that attack by debris that found its way into the middle of his chest. It pierced his heart and he was gone quickly. We moved to higher ground so we could fire back on the insurgents firing on us as we evacuated. I took two bullets, one in my shoulder and another in my side. I wasn’t mortally wounded, so I was still fighting. I gave the order to move and Freddie, my second in command, and one of the nicest guys I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing stood up, and they blew his head off. It was the worst thing I saw while I was over there because it was him. I was sick for a long time over it.

I was sent to the hospital after all of that was over. When I was ready to discharge, they tried to send me home. I found out my team was on one last mission and I went to join them instead. When I got there, they were on a frozen mountain looking for a man who had been the only survivor when his team had been attacked. We looked for him for two days and just about the time they were going to force us to come down, half of my team was attacked. As the rest of my men and I ran in to their aid, I heard a jet. The Navy was coming in to bomb the insurgents. The communication between Special Ops and the SEALS had failed somehow and when I heard the jet approaching, I knew what was about to happen. I was yelling, but it was too loud between the jet and the gunfire. I ordered the men with me to stay where they were and I tried to get to the others. The silent bomb hit the ground when I was about twelve feet out. The insurgents on that side of the mountain were killed, but so were my men. I was thrown back about twenty-five feet. I landed on the bloody body of one of my men. The other two were still alive, but barely. They had all been shot that quickly while everything else was happening. There was a sniper in the hills. I had a concussion and I was hypothermic and hallucinating, but I was aware enough to know my guys couldn’t make it out on their own. I’d already lost too many men. I carried them out on my back one at a time. By the grace of God or something, they made it. But, by that time, the death toll that I had caused was the two at home and five members of my team.”

“It was war baby, you aren’t responsible for all of that. Thank God you were there to save the last two men. I know they have to be grateful.”

Asher nodded. “They were at the ceremony where I received my medals. I gave them each one. I didn’t want them. I was only doing my job. They were following my orders and they did so with no questions asked. They deserved them more than I did.”

“Is all of this what the meds in the bathroom are for?”

He felt his face go flush. He knew he shouldn’t feel ashamed for needing the meds, but to him they would always feel like a crutch. “Yeah. I was diagnosed with PTSD. I have nightmares and flashbacks. I’ve gotten so much better at dealing with all of that though with exercise and hard work. I don’t have to take the meds often.”

“You were injured that night too, besides the concussion?”

He turned his right hip to the side and showed her the scars there. “I have a metal hip and a few titanium ribs. I’m practically bionic.” He smiled, trying to make light of it. Mia ran her fingers over the scars, stirring desire in him once more. He pushed up against the headboard and pulled her against his side. “That’s enough talk about death. Tell me about my son.”

Mia smiled. He loved the way her face lit up when Axel was mentioned. He knew without asking anyone that she was a fantastic mother. She had all the necessary ingredients; compassion, intelligence, passion, love and, he would be willing to bet that she had done as good of a job as his own mother had.

The smile slowly faded from her face as she said, “It was about a month after you left when I realized I was pregnant. I had missed my time of the month, but at that point, I had thought it was just all the stress. Then I started waking up sick every morning. I thought I had the flu, until it didn’t stop. I was losing weight and pale and just sickly. My mother was the one who made me go to the doctor. After Travis, they got really protective. If I sneezed one of my parents wanted to race me to the emergency room. Anyway, I went to the doctor one day at her insistence. She was at work and I went alone. When they asked if there was any chance I could be pregnant, I did’nt know. I told the nurse that the chances were very slim. But Axel is your son, after all. He was determined to make his way into this world.” She smiled again. “My mother was so upset at first. You knew her, she was never really a happy person. My father was so supportive. That was when I first went to your father. He was still drinking heavily and when I told him about the baby, he broke down and cried. He told me that he had been a terrible father and if I would give him a chance to know his grandson, he would be the best grandfather ever. I told him I would love nothing more, but only if he was sober. He spent several months in rehab. He fought hard to get sober and he never failed Axel as a grandfather. Axel adored him and vice versa. Greg taught him how to fish and hunt and how to work on a car. He used to tell me all the time how much Axel reminded him of you.”

Asher had tears in his eyes. He was glad that his son was there for his father and vice versa, but he couldn’t help feeling sad that it hadn’t been him. “Does he hate me?”

“Of course not. He has spent his life hearing stories about what an amazing person you are. Your dad told him football stories about you saving the game and I told him how sweet and caring you were to me and everyone who knew you. Your father told him about you taking care of Lily and how much she loved you. He doesn’t hate you, but he’s confused and angry. He doesn’t understand why you left. He knew that it hurt me and he knew that your Dad’s heart was broke over it. We were two of the people he loved the most. So although he also knew that you never knew about him and you didn’t abandon him, he didn’t understand why you left us. I tried to make him understand how bad things were with your mom and then Travis, but it’s hard for a kid who hasn’t really experienced any of that to wrap his head around that kind of emotional turmoil. He’s a good kid and he’s smart and funny and athletic. You’re going to love him.”

Asher smiled through the tears in his eyes and said, “You won’t believe this, but I think I already do.”

Mia had tears in her eyes too. She nodded and said, “I do believe it because I loved him before I even met him.”

TWENTY TWO

 

 

Asher paced the length of his living room. It had been three days since he and Mia spent the night together. He had seen her every day since and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt now that she was his destiny. If anyone tried to separate them, it would have to be done by prying his cold, dead fingers off of her. But with Axel, he hadn’t even known where to start. If he had been a child instead of a young man on the verge of adulthood, it might have been easier. But his son was nearly a man. He thought about himself at that age. He was still so emotionally immature and so many things were happening to him internally, even before all the drama. He wouldn’t blame Axel if he did hate him, but he prayed that he wouldn’t. Mia, Axel, Frank and Dean were coming over for a barbecue tonight. Asher and Mia had agreed it would be easier for Axel to interact with his father while having others around.

Dean arrived first, and he and Asher took a beer out back onto the porch swing they’d fixed a few days before. “You’re welcome,” Dean said as he took a seat.

Asher looked at him and grinned. “For what?” he asked.

Dean laughed. “You know what. If I hadn’t ordered those sandwiches the other day.”

Asher rolled his eyes. “I think I would have gotten around to it eventually.”

“I’m not touching that one,” Dean said, “I never get any credit.”

Laughing Asher said, “Thank you, man. Hey, do you know anyone in South Dakota that might want to lease a little farm.”

Dean grinned. “I think I could make that happen. I’m glad you’re sticking around, man.”

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