Break My Heart (The Heart Series Book 2) (3 page)

BOOK: Break My Heart (The Heart Series Book 2)
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She figured it out early on and took precautions to protect herself. Maybe she saw things like me, but pretended they weren’t there.

I know what I saw.
Will Shaw. The man who found me and took care of me was standing right on my doorstep. Or was he?

He looked older, more haggard, not like the guy I remember. Early 30s, clean cut—that handsome, hardworking farmer from 1944.

Christ, I’ve lost it for sure. Big time. I’m doing the right thing by keeping my mouth shut. If I breathe a word of what supposedly happened to me, I’d be without a job, without a reputation, but most important, without Tommy. I’m no longer tangible, not without Tommy. He makes me whole. He’s the glue that keeps me together.

Getting ready for bed, I slip into one of Tommy’s t-shirts. I love how he smells. It’s my own personal aphrodisiac.

Sometimes when he’s not home at night, I fall asleep hugging his pillow, taking in his scent. It soothes me.

As if I summoned him with my thoughts, I hear the front door open and close. Tommy’s back.

I can’t burden him with my bullshit. If I’m losing my mind, I’m not dragging him down with me.

 

 

CHAPTER 3

 

 

Tommy

 

Lil needed some time alone, which is why she asked me to go check on Mrs. N. after Nelson and Chris left. She’s always worried about Mrs. Nuncio, so I indulged her to give her time to sort through things. She was out for less than ten seconds, but for that time she was vulnerable.

I’ve been in Lil’s life long enough to know there’s nothing she hates more than not being in control. Being at the mercy of someone else is her worst nightmare.

Back in the sandbox during our second tour, we had a close call with some hostiles while waiting for the road to be cleared. Back at the base, the guys were bragging, bullshitting, and partying because of our success during the close encounter.

That night, she made me promise to take her out before she ever got captured.

I refused. I told her she was just worried, as most of the female soldiers were, about what would happen if the enemy captured her. But after knowing Lil for so long, I’ve realized it was more than that motivating her: it was control.

I questioned her motives, joked around about it.

She then changed her tone and rephrased her request. She wasn’t asking. She was ordering.

“Sarge, you will eliminate the hostiles. If you fail, neutralize the damage. I am not to fall into enemy hands. Are we clear?”

The dry desert air around us changed. I remember thinking that it was all some test I was supposed to pass.

“You’re joking, right, LT?” I was incredulous.

Her face was impassive. The expression was one I came to know well working with Agent Ileana Harper. She was not joking. She was dead serious.

“Sergeant Colton, you are to eliminate the threat, or eliminate me. Above all, I am not to fall into enemy hands. Are we clear?”

“Why me?” was all I could muster.

I’ll never forget her reply: “Because there’s no one else I trust more to carry out this order.”

If I wasn’t falling for her before that, that cinched it.

I looked her straight in the eye, my gaze never wavering. “Yes, ma’am.”

After I made poor Mrs. Nuncio get up from her chair to open the door, she assured me she was fine. She also said no one had knocked on her door tonight.

I still can’t get Lil’s expression out of my head. I wish she’d talk to me. She’s been mumbling in her sleep again, but I’m not going to say anything. Hopefully she’ll tell me when she’s ready.

Sometimes even the hardest of shells need some cracks to give them character, make them real. Nothing is flawless in this world. Not even my Lil. And that is what makes her perfect. Her flaws.

Entering our apartment, I think about her previous birthdays. Now that we’re together, I’m determined to fill her birthdays with nothing but good memories, starting with this one.

I’ll do what I do best. Walk into that room and rattle her cage. I love that I’m the one who can do that to her. She’s putty in my hands, for me to mold as I choose.

On my way to the bathroom, I ditch my t-shirt and shoes. I unbutton my jeans and let them hang from my hips, exposing some of her favorite parts. There’s a reason I work out hard; I know she likes to drink me in with those hauntingly beautiful eyes of hers.

“How’s the swelling?” I close the door behind me, trapping us both in the space. I wrap my arms around her waist, meeting her hypnotic gaze in the mirror.

Her breathing picks up and my lips curve in a satisfied smirk.

“Good. I’m...good. How’s Mrs. N.?” She smiles timidly.

“Good,” I whisper, close to her ear.

“Good.” Her cheeks flush, a reddish tint spreading from her neck all the way to her ears. Damn, I love that I still make her blush.

Mission accomplished.

Placing tender kisses on her shoulder, I work my way to the back of her neck, my tongue brushing that one spot I know all too well.

A moan escapes her, and I turn her around to face me. Cradling her jaw, I inspect her cheek then her injured eyebrow.

“I’m all right, Tommy,” she breathes.


Shhh
.”

I gently kiss her brow then move down, landing on her lips. My tongue begs for entrance, which she quickly allows. She tastes of wine, cake, and Lil. The flavors are heady. I want her birthday to be complete with happy endings and fireworks.

I break our kiss. “Shower. Now,” I order, and she nods.

While I wait for the water to warm up, I hoist her up onto the marble countertop.

The glow from the vanity lights shows a slight swelling in her eyebrow. Her cheek is almost back to its regular rosy color, and that little upturned nose I adore is bright pink. She’s a bit paler and thinner than normal. I wonder if she’s eating enough. Lil has always been healthy and solid, but seeing her so thin makes her seem fragile in some way.

I don’t like it. When I lean in to kiss her, she stops me, as if reading my thoughts.

She speaks in a sweet, soft tone. “I’m fine, really. Please don’t worry.” Sadness seeps through her whiskey gaze, but she tries to shake it off.

“I know. But I do.”

Pulling long curls away from her face, I take her in. My old Army PT shirt tents over her tight frame. Her hair is the longest I’ve ever seen it, the caramel highlights growing out.

The words still ring in my ears:
Where did he go? Did he take off? Nelson, did you take a good look at him?

Who is this
him
?

I trail my fingers over her cheek, down her neck. She’s so fucking sad and I just want to know what’s wrong so I can take it all away.

“Lil, who did you see at the door?” My voice is barely audible but I know that even with the shower running, she hears me. She flinches slightly, but I catch it. “Someone you know? You said
he
. Who was it, Lil?”

I’m trying to be gentle. I want to know what’s going on inside her head.

“No one. So, is this the reason you asked me to shower?” she teases, touching my stomach, her hands heading south. She’s trying to distract me, but I won’t let her.

I stop her progress. “Did you remember something about the time you were gone?”

I can’t help it. I need to know what happened to her while she was missing. I haven’t asked about it so far, but we have to start somewhere.

Immediately, I can tell I went too far. She’s shutting down. One by one, the lights turn off. She retreats somewhere deep inside—to that place where I can’t reach her.

Shit
. I’m losing her.

“Why are you asking me about this?” The words are clipped. “It’s not bad enough it’s April first, you have to bring
this
up?”

She jumps off the counter, but I box her in. “I’m sorry, you’re right. That was a shitty thing to bring up today of all days.”

She’s still retreating, trying to pull away, but I hug her to me tightly. I’m not letting her go, ever. I let go once and almost lost her. Never again.

“Lil, look at me.”

Her eyes are glassy, and her nostrils flare with annoyance. Fucking Christ, I’m such a prick. I promise to give her time then turn around and ambush her.

“You’re right. I said I wouldn’t push and I’m pushing. I’m just worried.” Before she opens her mouth, I silence her. “I know what you’re going to say: ‘Don’t worry, Colton. I got this,’” I tease, mimicking her voice.

She gives me a reluctant laugh. “You’re such an asshole,” she says indignantly. “I don’t sound like that, and I don’t say
I got this
.” Her forehead wrinkles and it makes me smile.

I love being playful with her. It brings out a side of Lil I can’t get enough of. Soft and amiable, especially in the bedroom.

“If you’re fine then you won’t object to a full examination,” I challenge, wagging my eyebrows.

In two shakes, I pull off my jeans, leaving nothing but my boxer briefs, and dive into her. Giggles escape her, and I push her up and against the door. She bumps her head and rubs the back of it, full-on belly laughing, and I’m grinning like an idiot. I love to make her laugh.

I drop to my knees, stick my head up her t-shirt and press my face against her belly. Her creamy skin is soft, her abs solid underneath.

“I’ve got to get close,
Agent Harpier,
is it?” I’m faking some bullshit accent and she’s laughing even harder, muttering what an idiot I am. I’m making a total ass of myself just for her.

This is our world. Mine and hers alone.

“You think I should get a tattoo?” she asks between laughs.

Now she has my attention. Is she being serious?

I pop my head out from under the tee, and gaze up at her. “Where?”

I’ve been dying for us to get matching tattoos, but I know Lil will think it’s sappy or romantic or some shit and won’t do it. I even have them picked out in case she ever agrees: Yin Yangs.

“One like yours, to cover my scar.” She peels back the old shirt, touching the faint scar on her stomach.

My smile disappears. All I can see is the knife wound. All I can think of is how it’s my fault. All I feel is grief and pain.

I’m still staring at her stomach, but she continues, “Like your bicep band to cover your bullet wound? I was thinking something like
‘What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger’ or....”

When I realize she stopped talking, I glance up at her.

Her hands cup my face. “Hey.”  

Our eyes lock. The tables have turned. Now I’m the one that’s shutting down. I’m the one remembering why she has that scar. I left her there.
Alone
.

She grants me a big grin. “Doctor, I believe you’re far from done with your examination.” She tries to wiggle her impeccably shaped eyebrows, failing miserably.

She’s trying to cheer me up, and it’s working. I love when she tries to be naughty. She gets so awkward and it’s sexy as hell and I enjoy every single, fucking second of it. My smile is back and the game is on.

I continue my thorough inspection, saving the best for last. When I try to inspect her breasts, she wiggles around, laughing, trying to grab my arms. In one fluid motion, I strip her shirt off and loosely clutch her wrists over her head with one hand, caressing her breasts playfully with the other.

“Let go, please,” she says between fading laughter.

“I’m afraid I cannot,
Agent
, you might be a spy smuggling weapons inside these beautiful mounds.” Still doing the bullshit accent, I bury my face between her tits, but then her voice gives me pause.

“Let go of me. Please, let go of me,” she mumbles, struggling against me.

I raise my head in time to see her face go from hesitation to panic in a heartbeat. The second I let go of her wrists she bolts to the opposite corner of the bathroom.

“Lil, Jesus, did I hurt you?”

I’m dumbfounded, watching her pace back and forth like some caged animal at the zoo. She wants to run far and fast, but she can’t because she’s locked up in this little space with me.

Every time I think I know all there is to know about Lil, I discover another side. It’s like she’s got this big maze going on, and I chased her into a dead end. That dark, musty place where she hides the bad things that go bump in the night in hopes they stay there. But they don’t.

That’s probably the reason why she barely sleeps. Because those ugly things she keeps hidden in that dark place get out when she’s vulnerable. Slumber. Sleep leaves her exposed and they leak out, terrorizing her, ruling her world, creating chaos.

But this time it wasn’t a dream. It was me. I took her there without even realizing it.

Her arms are tightly wrapped around her small frame, her long hair in disarray, and her eyes glued to the floor.
Fuck
.

“Lil, what happened?” I calmly ask.

Taking deep breaths, she stares at the bathroom door.
Baby, don’t run. Please.

“It’s nothing. It’s…it’s fine.” She chuckles nervously, pretending she’s okay, but I know better.

“Come here.” My voice is ragged and deep, like the pain I feel for her.

She doesn’t hesitate. She runs straight into my arms. I hold her bare body against mine, giving her little squeezes, hugging her as tightly as I can.

She brings her arms around me and squeezes right back, and I exhale in relief at the gesture.

If I’m ever able to choose the way I’ll die, I’d choose this. In Lil’s arms.

Placing a small kiss on the top of her head, I hear her mutter something.

“What?”

This time she says it a little louder. “I’m sorry I ruined the examination.” I chuckle, but she continues, “I suck at playing sex games.”

“It’s role-playing, and yeah, you do.”

She gives me a playful slap on the stomach, just like the old days.

“Do you mind if I jump in the shower? I think the water is ready. It’s awfully steamy in here.”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry.” I loosen my grip and she quickly pulls away.

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