Back From Hell (Marine For You Book 2) (Contemporary Military Veteran Romance) (3 page)

D
ays had passed
with Kyle only seeing the four walls of his hotel room and it was beginning to make him stir-crazy. He needed to get out, but his fear of facing the rest of the world in his condition kept him in that room. He saw how people at the hotel had looked at him, how the pizza delivery guy’s mouth dropped just a little when Kyle opened the door. People were shocked at his appearance and there was nothing he could do to change it. The prosthesis wouldn’t change that. The burns would still be there, taunting him. Every time he looked in the mirror and every phantom pain from where his limbs should have been were constant reminders.

He berated himself for not having the courage to just end it. To eliminate the pain he felt and the horror he saw in others’ eyes. He had his sidearm in the nightstand drawer, but all he could do was open that drawer and stare at it. Every time he thought he could go ahead and do the deed, his courage fled. He didn’t understand the reason. He had no more purpose, and nothing and no one in his life any longer. So why delay the inevitable?

He slid the drawer open again and the card from the woman at the hospital slid off the book next to his sidearm.
Staci Pence.
Her name stared up at him in a bold, fancy font that seemed to match her personality.

Call her.
Before he could stop himself, he picked up his cell phone and called. It rang once, twice…by the third ring doubt crept in and he hit the end button. “What was I thinking?” He didn’t need that woman, or her fiery spirit and pure soul, trying to make the world a better place. She didn’t need to be tainted by him. Not when she could do so much for others.

His cell vibrated in his hand and he glanced down at it. The same number he had just called displayed on screen. He wanted to answer it, to hear her voice and the calming reassurance he knew he’d find in it, but he didn’t dare give in to the temptation. He tossed the phone on the bed.

Pushing his wheelchair over to the window, he stared out. From the second floor window, he could watch as people went about their lives, and cars sped down the road in a hurry to get wherever they were going. If only people realized life was precious, that it shouldn’t be rushed. That everyone should take the time to enjoy each day. A year ago he had been just like them, but not anymore. The military had started the change in him and his injuries had done the rest. Unlike everyone dashing from one place to another, he no longer had a life like that, and possibly one day it would be too late for one of the people he observed below to slow down and enjoy life as well.

You never know what you have until it’s gone.
The words of one of the mothers in a foster home he had spent time in played in his thoughts. Only, when she’d said them, she was referring to the fact he had just been kicked out of another home for acting up. Foster home after foster home and not one of them had ever made him feel like he belonged. Being tossed around from one home to another hadn’t worked. It came to a point where he had to just suck it up and wait until he aged out of the system.

Suck it up and wait… He wasn’t sure that would work now. What was he waiting for? Death?

T
wice
, Staci called the number and both times, she got voicemail.
Kyle Phillips here and you know what to do.
She didn’t bother to leave a message. He had called but hung up before she could answer and now he wasn’t picking up. What if something happened? He could have decided to end things just like her father. It would be all her fault that she hadn’t saved him because she hadn’t answered.

“Are you coming?” her friend called from the table. “The hand’s dealt; we’re just waiting on you.”

Tonight was supposed to be an evening for just the two of them but Kate’s boyfriend had the evening off so it had turned into a threesome. Staci felt like an extra wheel but after cancelling the last girls’ night with Kate, she didn’t feel right about bowing out again. Now, she had an excuse.
It’s not an excuse, it’s a good reason. Kyle needs me.

“Kate, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t tell me one of those
soldiers
need you.” Kate let out a deep sigh and leaned back in her chair. “When are you going to stop going there? You have a life to lead with college, work, friends. It’s all demanding; you don’t need to waste your time there. They’ve got the help they need. What do they need you for?”

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Kate continued, her voice raised. “I don’t understand why you’d rather hang out with someone who’s messed up when you have us. It’s not like you know any of them.”

This was the only rift in their friendship and it was huge. Kate had never understood and never would. No matter how many times they had the conversation, Kate couldn’t see Staci’s side. To her, it was practically like visiting the grave of a loved one—another thing her friend didn’t do. She couldn’t see the reasoning behind visiting a gravestone of someone departed.

“Kate, you’re my friend and I wish you’d supported my choices. Either way, this is something that is important to me and I’m going.” She grabbed her bag from the side of the sofa. “I’m sorry, but I’m sure you can find other ways to enjoy your evening without me.”

“She’s right K, let her go.” Kate’s boyfriend slid his hand under her shirt.

At that moment, Staci couldn’t think of the new boyfriend’s name and didn’t really care; she was only thankful for the diversion. He’d entertain Kate and Staci wouldn’t feel so bad for bailing on her friend.

“Whatever. Just go.” Kate’s words hinted that the fight wasn’t over.

Right now that didn’t matter to her; she’d deal with it later. With one last glance at Kate and the boyfriend, Staci headed for the door. The two of them had been roommates before Kate had decided she could no longer stand the rift Staci’s volunteer work had caused between them. She’d moved out to live with this newest boyfriend, leaving the small two bedroom house located between the hospital and the college all to Staci. Making ends meet might have been harder and limited what she could stash away for the ranch, but it had given her some privacy. She hadn’t realized how nice it was to have a place all to herself and not have to deal with a roommate bringing people over at any given hour.

She slid behind the wheel and started her pickup truck when the realization dawned on her. She didn’t know where he was. Was he still at the hotel or had he finally been transferred to one of the wounded warrior units? Not knowing where else to go, she headed for the hotel at which most of those who were discharged from the hospital without anywhere else to go ended up. If she failed to find him there, she wasn’t sure where else to look.

Rush hour was over, so the traffic was light as she drove across town. She pulled into a parking spot close to the door and checked the rearview mirror. Without having his room number, she’d have to make nice with whoever was on duty at the front desk. If she was having a lucky night, it would be one of the regulars who knew her from when she came to visit the others who had stayed here. If she wasn’t, then she might have made this trip for nothing. She might have anyways, because she wasn’t even sure he was staying here. He could have been at one of the other hotels, or maybe he had found his own place. It had been a week since she had last seen him so anything was possible.

“Here goes nothing.” She hopped out of her truck and headed for the main entrance.

The cool breeze chilled her and helped to ease her nerves. She was scared of what she might find in Kyle’s room. He might need more help than she could give. She wasn’t a therapist and had never tried to be one. She only wanted to lend a supporting shoulder and be someone they could confide in if needed.

“Hey there, Staci.” The young check-in clerk stood behind the counter. The black sleek finish of the wood made the silver hotel emblem before it stand out in sharp contrast. “What brings you here?”

“Hi.” She strolled across the lobby, her heels clicking off the titled floor as she made her way toward him. She waited until one of the guests, who had followed her in, moved to the elevator before she revealed her reason for being there. “I’ve stopped by to visit a friend from the hospital, Kyle Phillips, but I forgot to check his room number before I left.”

“He’s here.” He shook his hair that came to the tops of his ears away from his eyes and looked at her. “Haven’t seen him around though. He doesn’t leave his room.”

“I know, that’s why I’m here.”

“Things bad with him?” He leaned forward, intrigued by what she might tell him.

“You know I can’t tell you what’s up with him,” she told him lightly without being rude because she needed his help. He didn’t have to tell her what room he was in. “I can tell you that I’m hoping I can help him and maybe you’ll see more of him. So, where can I find him?”

“You know this could cost me my job.” Even as he spoke, he clicked a few buttons on the keyboard. “Room two hundred and thirty-nine. Second floor, end of the hall.”

“I owe you.” She gave him her biggest smile and headed for the elevators.

“Bring me some of those delicious chocolate chip cookies of yours and we’ll call it even.”

“This weekend.” The elevator doors slid open; she stepped inside and pushed the second floor button. The doors closed, and she had a moment to think before she arrived at the second floor. In the week he had been there, no one had seen much of him. It didn’t surprise her, but it wasn’t a good sign. Had he kept his appointments at the hospital? Had he continued his therapy with his prosthesis?

She stood in front of the door to his room, took a deep breath, and knocked. This was what she’d come for and it was the only way to get the answers to her questions.

“Who is it?”

“Staci…you called me.” Silence met her words. “Come on Kyle, open up. I’m not going anywhere. Even if I have to stay out here all night.”

The door flung open and there before her he sat in the wheelchair, dark circles under his eyes. “I didn’t invite you here. How did you get my room number?”

“I’ve got ways. Now are you going to invite me in or shall we discuss things in the hallway?” He rolled his chair back, giving her enough room to step inside. “Thank you.”

“I’d rather be alone.”

“I’ve no doubt about that.” She glanced around the room. The only light came through the open curtains. The bed looked slightly rumpled as if he had tried to sleep not long before she arrived, but other than that, the room was spotless. She wasn’t sure if that was one of the benefits of living in a hotel with room service or if it was Kyle’s doing. “When you didn’t answer I became worried.”

“Calling you was a mistake.” He shut the door and rolled toward the window.

Or maybe it was your cry for help.
She didn’t say this aloud because that would only make him angry. “All you had to do was answer and let me know, then I wouldn’t have shown up.”

“How was I supposed to know you’d come here?” he snapped with his gaze averted. “Now that you know, you can leave.”

“Kyle…” She stepped toward him. “You called me because things got too rough and you wanted to talk to someone. I’m here now; don’t push me away.”

“I don’t need anyone. I’ve done fine on my own all these years.”

“There’s no reason to go through life alone when you’ve got someone who’s willing to stand by your side.” She came to kneel next to him. “I’m here, let me help you.”

How could she get through to him? If there existed a magical saying that would help her, she wasn’t aware of it. In the time she’d spent working with veterans, she’d never had someone affect her as Kyle did. Most of the time, either they wanted her company or they didn’t. If they didn’t, she’d respect it.

Kyle was different because Brenda had asked her to help him as a special case. He didn’t have family, which left him alone at the mercy of medical professionals. Sometimes, they weren’t the easiest to confide in. Usually, veterans had someone to turn to—loved ones who’d bend over backwards to see these wounded warriors overcome their impossible challenges.

Kyle had no one.
No one.

Her dad had her mother, but she’d been isolated from his pain. Sometimes, you can be around people yet still feel alone. She never stopped wondering
what if…?
Kyle had a death wish, and if she didn’t step in to help, he may just go ahead and fulfil it.

There was also something else about him. Something she couldn’t deny.
Something
that didn’t just stir the heartstrings but also the woman within. Hints of the man he’s been before his injuries shined through occasionally and made her want to dig through the outer shell until she found that man again.

E
ven as Kyle
tried to push Staci away, he wanted her to stay. He missed being around people, and she made him feel like a normal man. She didn’t treat him like a cripple or look at him like so many others had. There were no questions about what had happened to cause his injuries. She just seemed to accept things as they were—maybe because of everything she had seen working at the hospital, or her experience training as a physical therapist, but either way it put him at an ease he hadn’t felt in a long time.

At first, they made small talk, and then they just sat there by the window. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it felt much like they had known each other long enough to be relaxed together. The last rays of sun disappeared and the sky darkened. Night descended upon them. This was the time he hated the most; he felt more vulnerable in the dark and his ghosts wouldn’t let him free.

“You know, when I was young, I always thought there were monsters lurking within the dark.”

“I think all kids do.” She tipped her head to the side to look at him. “I was terrified that something was living under my bed. Every night my father would come in and
cleanse
my room of evil. None of us realize we have no idea what evil truly is until it bites us in the ass.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” He turned and met her gaze. “Only the evil isn’t under our beds or in our closets. It’s waiting for us out there. For some it’s a robbery gone wrong or a car accident. For me, it happened overseas. A fucking IED stole the life I was meant to have and for what? What did Weber’s sacrifice get us?”

“Things don’t always turn out how we want them to, and I’m sorry for what happened. It was awful and nothing I can say will make that better, but if you focus on the positives, it will help you get through each day. I’m not going to lie and tell you that one day you won’t remember this because you always will. Things will get easier but it will never go away completely. I told you before that if you talk about it—”

“I don’t know how to talk about it.” He paused and let out a deep sigh. “How do you talk about the fact you’re responsible for your best friend’s death?”

“Weber?”

He nodded. “I thought I was saving him by changing places with him, but it ultimately caused his death. If I’d have left him where he was, he’d still be here…”

“And you’d be dead,” she supplied.

“Yes, dead, but Weber would be here with his wife, Cassy, and his son. Crippled but alive.”

“Stop that.” She leaned forward. “Stop calling yourself a cripple. You’re alive, and yes, you’ve lost two of your limbs, but that doesn’t make you less human.”

He let out a light chuckle. He
was
a lot less; he couldn’t do most things he had once been able to do. “The point is, he’d have a reason to fight through this shit.”

She stared at him for a moment before her eyebrow arched in question. “You haven’t been to physical therapy, have you?”

“What’s the point?”

“The point is learning to walk with your prosthesis. Learning to use your prosthetic arm. You’ll be able to get your life back and do whatever you want. You won’t be stuck in a wheelchair any longer and can move around as you wish. Isn’t that what you want?”

“What I want…” He dragged his hand over his face, the ruff stubble along his cheek rubbed against his palm. “Screw it, it doesn’t matter.”

“Go on. It matters to me.”

“I want the life I had back.”

She reached forward and laid her hand on his forearm. “Then let me help you. You don’t have to do this alone, I’ll help in any way I can, but it starts with you going to PT.”

“You never give up, do you?” When she shook her head, he added, “You’re going to be an amazing physical therapist. No one will be able to slack off when you’re around.”

“That’s the goal.” She smirked. “Seriously though, let me help you.”

“I’m a bigger project than you want to take on.” He brushed her offer to the side and tried to think about anything besides her touch. She was the first person that wasn’t a doctor or nurse to touch him. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the simplest touches of a friend or lover until she laid her hand on his. “Do you know why I called tonight?”

“Partially, yes.” She didn’t move her hand away from his arm; instead, she let her fingers tease along curve of it. “You were finally reaching out for help. That’s a huge step.”

“It was selfish.” He closed his eyes. “With thoughts of ending it all, I pulled open the drawer where I keep my sidearm, and your card fell down to land on top. Your name and number jumped at me for the first time, like it was meant to be. I called before I could stop myself, but when it rang my courage fled and I hung up. I didn’t expect you to come here, but that brief call, even though I hadn’t spoken to you, had given me the little bit of strength I needed to carry on.”

“That weakness and doubt will come again. Next time, will you have the will power to call me or will your courage flee then, too? Kyle…” She paused a moment and waited for him to look at her. “I don’t want to see something happen to you.”

“Is this because of your father again?”

She gave his arm a light squeeze. “No, it’s because of you. I want to help you. If you won’t go back to the hospital then we’ll figure out something.”

“I’m not going to the hospital. I can’t do that again. I just need…time.” He wasn’t sure what he needed but time sounded reasonable.

“Fine, we’ll get through it another way.” She took her hand away and leaned back. Her brows arched together in thought.

Without her hand on his arm, sadness and longing tugged at him. He reminded himself again that she could never be interested in him in any way besides friendship. No women ever would be, not with his condition. A nasty pill to swallow, but to him, that was the truth. His ex-girlfriend had proved that.

“You’ll come to my place.”

“What?” Her statement pulled him from his thoughts, leaving him feeling like he had missed something.

“I’ve got a two bedroom ranch house I’m renting not far from the hospital. There are no steps and the hallways are big enough that your wheelchair will fit. It’s not much, but it’s in a quiet little area. My former roommate moved in with her boyfriend so I have a spare room. You’ll come stay with me.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“I am. It’s the perfect solution. You need somewhere to stay and not live in this hotel room. I’ll be close by so you’ll have the support you need without being in the hospital. However, there are two conditions.”

He couldn’t believe the woman before him. She was seriously inviting a strange man to move in with her. “What would your father say if he knew you were inviting strangers to come live with you?”

“I know you better than I knew Kate when she moved in with me. Same thing about anyone else who could move in as a roommate. So why would he have a problem with it? My mother, on the other hand, would have a fit but she has one over just about everything I do. She wanted me to become a vet like her. When I told her what I wanted to do she couldn’t believe it. She hates the idea of me buying the ranch someday.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s not the point. I’m an adult, and who I choose to have in my home is my business.”

That was the feisty side of her that he was beginning to like. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but what are your two conditions?”

“The first is easy: you must hand over your sidearm. I’ve got a small safe in my room that we’ll put it in. It’s for your protection. I don’t want those thoughts you had before to return and you act on them. Suicide is not the answer. We’ll get through this,
together
.”

“Taking a Marine’s sidearm is like taking his arm.” The words came out before he had time to think about what he was saying; as they sank in, he looked down at his body and chuckled. “I guess since I’ve lost an arm already, it’s nothing.”

“Do you realize what just happened?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “You forgot, even if only for a nanosecond, that you lost your arm. You were even able to make a smart remark about it once you remembered. That’s an improvement over referring to yourself as a cripple.”

“If you can’t laugh at yourself, who can? Plus, I think I’ve got enough material for a standup comedy act. Now what’s your second condition?” The first one wasn’t too bad and he might actually consider it, even just to get out of this hotel room with the pale white walls and hard-as-a-rock bed. He had slept in softer ditches than that bed.

“You must go to PT. I can help you at home with your prosthesis but I don’t have the equipment that is needed to get you started. You’ll start out learning to stand on it using the parallel bars. That’s the first step. I know you’ve been fitted for it but haven’t actually participated in any therapy using it.”

“I cancelled this week’s appointments.” He admitted. “I just didn’t feel like it was worth wasting their time if I was only going to…” He trailed off before mentioning suicide again.

“Well, not anymore. You’ll go, and we’ll have you walking again in no time.”

“Besides the bars, what should I expect?” He hated the unease and nervousness in his voice. Fear of the unknown had been one of the reasons he had cancelled the PT appointments.

“Every physical therapist is different regarding how they want you to start. For me, I normally start with the parallel bars. They are designed to help you get used to putting weight on your prosthesis and they can make a person more comfortable with their new limb. With your partial loss of arm on that side as well, I’d raise the bars so that at first you’ll be supporting yourself by your armpits, sort of like crutches, and have you get used to it. This way you wouldn’t have all your weight on one side.”

“Sounds like a bitch.” Though it was a lot less complicated than his mind had created. He had expected to be stuck in the wheelchair for months while he learned to get around on the prosthesis.

“It’s not that bad and the important thing is, you’ll be walking again in no time. After you get used to having weight on the prosthesis, you’ll progress to slow walking, using the bars for support. When you’re ready, you’ll practice walking. Some choose to use the aid of a cane at first while others don’t need it.” They sat there in silence for a moment before she added, “I don’t know the details of your situation but a below the knee amputation that is healing well could allow for you to be up and walking in a week. Everyone is different but it all depends on your strength and how much you want it.”

“Trust me. I want out of this chair bad.” Even as he said this, he knew it was true. Crazy that he had cancelled the appointments when he wanted to be able to move about again with the ease of two legs.
Even if one is fake.

“That will help. Your burns are mostly healed now, but because of them you were stuck in the hospital longer. Otherwise, you’d have already been up walking around.” She smiled at him. “See, you were worried for nothing. So will you keep your next appointment?”

“I will.” He realized his moods were like a pendulum, swinging back and forth. Except for him, it was from high to low and the lows seemed to last longer than the highs. An hour before he had wanted to kill himself; now he was making plans for Monday and it was only Saturday.

“So what do you say about coming home with me?”

“I say you’re nuts.” He chuckled. “You have no idea what you’re inviting into your home.”

“I know you’re capable of a lot of things, but I don’t think you’ll hurt me.”

“Not intentionally.” He couldn’t keep the sadness out of his voice, but what scared him the most about staying at her place was the fact she could get hurt because of him. If she came to him in the midst of one of his dreams, he could lash out without realizing until it was too late.

“Are you having nightmares? Flashbacks?” Her back stiffened as if she was suddenly uncomfortable.

“Rethinking your offer?” He teased.

“No, the offer stands, as does the question.”

“Nightmares come and go. So if I’m going to come then we need to set up boundaries.” He ran his hand down the arm of the chair and refused to look at her. “If you hear me…dreaming….you stay the hell away from me. I won’t have you getting hurt because I didn’t know it was you.”

“Don’t worry, I know all too well.” Before he could ask, she explained, “Dad had only been back on the ranch a few days when one of our mares was giving birth. It was dark but I had snuck out to check on her, because I knew she was due any day. When I got to the barn, I found out something was wrong. I learned later that what I had heard wasn’t just from her giving birth. I rushed into the house and to Dad’s bedroom. He freaked out when I woke him.” Her shoulders slumped and leaned back against the chair, almost as if deflated.

“Are you okay?”

“I just realized that was the start of the breakdown. It was the first of the tumbling blocks that came falling down. Less than a month later he was dead.”

Before he could stop himself, he scooted his chair closer to her and took her hand in his. “I’m truly sorry for your loss, but you have to know that what happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I know it.” The tears in her eyes glistened as she tried to give him a smile that fell flat. “I do, but sometimes it’s hard to remember that. If only someone had been there to help him. If PTSD hadn’t been treated like some dark secret, maybe he’d still be alive.”

“The war in Iraq and Afghanistan has brought attention to PTSD like never before but a person still needs to seek the help. It’s like an alcoholic. The people around him can try to get him to stop drinking but until he’s ready it won’t help. They have to hit rock bottom in order to accept what is being offered.”

“You speak as if from experience.”

He was but he didn’t know where to start to explain it to her. Would he talk about his parents first? Or himself, his own life? Could he speak of one without the other? He decided he didn’t want to go down the path to the past. “When I was at the hospital I wanted nothing to do with any of it but being here, cooped up in this hotel room, something changed. For the last week I’ve sat by this window watching the people go about their lives and I’ve missed that feeling of being one of them—among them. I’ve never been the life of the party, or even someone who enjoyed being around crowds, but I’ve never been so lonely in all my life.”