Full Measures (7 page)

His eyes narrowed as he examined my face, as if he was waiting for a crack to shatter my facade. It wasn’t going to happen. He took my hand and led me down the hall, people moving out of our way this time.

Greg stepped in front of him. “Hey, Ember, I’m sorry—”

Josh pushed him into the wall with his right hand in one smooth motion, not even pausing in our exit. I kept my chin up and focused on the lines of Josh’s shirt, left untucked but rolled at the sleeves. Greg didn’t bother to say anything else.

My focus drifted over to the balcony, where a crowd of Riley’s frat brothers overlooked the great room. Pity wafted from them in waves. Did they all know? Was I the stupid one? Music filled the house from the system downstairs, and “#41” came on. My heart broke to the soundtrack of my favorite Dave Matthews song.

But Dave was right as always.
I will go in this way, and find my own way out.

Charlotte rushed toward me once we hit the bottom of the stairs. “Oh my God, Ember.” Her pity only served to fuel the rage burning deep in my chest.

“How long?” I demanded. She dared to stare back at me with this dumbfounded expression that made me want to throttle her. “How long have they been sleeping together?” My voice raised to an embarrassing level before I could stop it.

She blinked repeatedly, her eyes growing larger and larger. “I don’t know. I guess a little over a year? That Thanksgiving when you went away with your parents.”

“And you
all
knew?”

She shook her head quickly. “No, only a few of us. They tried to keep it quiet.”

Tried to keep it quiet in a giant house party? Yeah.

Josh’s hand tightened around mine, and he turned in unspoken question. “Right,” I responded, feeling a chill come over me. “We’re done here.”

Josh slid through the crowd, which parted easily for him. It didn’t hurt that the guy was majorly built. I followed in his wake until the frigid night air hit my flaming cheeks. The snowflakes should have sizzled as they hit me. He marched through the partiers who had gathered to smoke outside, gently pulling me behind him. Once we reached the boulder, he turned to me with upraised eyebrows. “May I?”

Gone was the physical playfulness he’d shown when we’d arrived. Now his manners were courteous and careful, restrained. “Please get me out of here,” I whispered, nearly broken. There wasn’t too much of my composure left, but I’d be damned if I let any of those onlookers see me cry, let alone break down into hysterical sobs like I wanted.

Josh swung me up into his arms, and I buried my face in his neck, breathing in his subtle cologne that smelled like sandalwood and safety. He leaned in the open door, placing me on the seat. The fabric was still warm from the drive in. My life had fallen apart in less time than it took the windshield to freeze over.

Riley flew out of the house in jeans and the sweater I bought him last Christmas, jumping over the railing to bypass the crowd. I hoped his feet were bare so they’d freeze to the pavement. “Ember!” he shouted, running down the sidewalk.

Josh cursed under his breath. He balanced on my doorframe, bending over me to turn on the car. “Wouldn’t want you to be cold.” He stroked the side of my face, buckled my seat belt, and shut the door. I unrolled the window, knowing Riley would want a word.

Josh didn’t come around the car, didn’t hop in and drive us away. Instead, he casually leaned against the Jeep, his arms folded across his chest, the only sign of the temperature being the visible breath he expelled.

Riley stopped a few feet in front of him, his chest heaving from exertion. Well, yeah, pausing mid-thrust to speed-dress and chase your now ex-girlfriend out of your house probably took a little energy. “Josh, man, let me talk to Ember.”

“I’m not her keeper,
man
. The woman does what she wants.” He didn’t move, but his body radiated coiled tension. I kept my focus on the pulse pounding in Josh’s neck, refusing to look up at Riley.

“Ember, please, let me explain!” He took a step toward Josh, but the simple tilt of his head had Riley stepping back. I didn’t want to know what Josh’s face looked like to get that kind of reaction out of the fearless Riley.

“I’m not really sure there’s much you could say to me, Riley.” I didn’t bother glancing at him. I’d seen enough of his face when it was contorted with lust. “I think I saw everything I needed to know.”

“You’ve been distant this week.” What a lame-ass excuse. “I just needed some comfort, and Kayla was there, and one thing led to another. It didn’t mean anything!”

I dragged my gaze away from the back of Josh’s head, finally meeting Riley’s eyes.
I will not cry. I will not break down.
“A year, Riley . . . ?” My voice trailed off because I couldn’t speak past the mountain-sized lump that had formed there. “We’re done!” I choked it out and bit down on my lower lip, needing to feel the pain.

“You know about . . .” He shook his head and launched back into his tirade. “I needed someone, Ember! I needed someone to care about
me
! Where have you been? You’ve been so wrapped up in your family drama that you never stopped to think about what’s going on in
my
life!”

“Let’s go, Josh.”

“You’re not taking my girlfriend anywhere!” Riley shouted.

“She doesn’t look much like your girlfriend,” Josh drawled slowly.

Riley swung, but only connected with Josh’s hand as he caught the attempted punch.

Josh didn’t miss. His fist busted into Riley’s mouth with a
crack
, the sound nauseating, yet gratifying. Riley flew backward, landing in the snow. Josh stood over him, shaking his head when Riley moved to stand. “Don’t get up.”

Blood stained the back of the ivory sleeve as Riley wiped his mouth. “What? Afraid I’ll kick your ass?”

Josh let loose a wry smile. “Nawh. Afraid I’ll end up in jail when I fuck up that pretty little face of yours.” Did Riley pale? It looked like it from here. “As December said, we’re done here.”

A small spark of satisfaction pushed back my wave of tears. Thank God for Josh.

Chapter Five

Anger choked me the whole drive to my parents’ cabin, leaving me seething in silence. The trip lasted about fifteen minutes, into a nice but not-quite-as-nice-as-Riley’s area outside Breckenridge. Our cabin was more secluded, and the bonus was that Riley wouldn’t be there.

How could he and Kayla do this? How could I not see it happening in front of me? They’d had sex, repeatedly, when he wouldn’t so much as go beneath-the-belt with me.

Nausea rolled through my stomach as we pulled up the driveway in front of the cabin. My stomach clenched and when my mouth watered I knew it was coming. “Let me out!” I shouted, fumbling, not realizing the door wasn’t locked. Josh raced around the Jeep, opening the door and lowering me down in one smooth motion.

The snow came nearly to my knees, but I trudged a few feet away through the heavy mess before I lost my stomach contents. Over and over I heaved, letting go of my dinner, my bile, and the last stable thing I thought I had in the world. I had the common sense to back up a few feet before I fell to my knees, sobbing.

I screamed my voice hoarse while the snow melted into my jeans, soaking my legs in an icy reminder that this was not a dream. No more dreams. They had frozen and shattered the moment I opened that damned door. Every carefully made plan was no more. There was nothing certain left. Not Riley. Not Dad. Not even Mom.

“What else do you want?” I screamed up to whoever wasn’t listening. “I have nothing left to give! Are you done with me yet?” I sagged back down into the snow, covering my face with my frozen fingers as I let loose ugly, horrendous sobs.

A warm coat engulfed me, and the scent told me it belonged to Josh. He lifted me easily into his arms, carrying me up to the cabin.

“No.” I forced out, and he stopped. “I need to walk.” His arms tensed momentarily like he wasn’t going to let me go, but he gently set me on my feet.

“I’ll get the bags.” His retreating footsteps crunched through the snow.

One foot in front of the other, I made it the last ten feet to the door. The snow was packed, leaving a hard crust on top, but I relished the difficulty because it reminded me I was still alive, still here.

Feeling this, the pain, the chill, the strain of my muscles was as necessary as breathing.

I pulled the keys from my sweater and opened the door. Flipping the light switch brought the cabin to life in all my mother’s Pottery Barn glory. The door opened into a small mudroom, where our skis still stood propped in their holders from our Thanksgiving trip. I crossed the living room and turned up the thermostat to a respectable level. The stove
whooshed
from the corner as the propane kicked in and the flames came to life. At least the pilot hadn’t gone out. That was something, right?

The cabin had a kitchen, dining room, living room, bathroom, and three small bedrooms. I ran my fingers lovingly over the enlarged canvas print of our family on the slopes last year. I stroked Dad’s smile as my fingers tingled, feeling seeping back in, hearing his laugh as surely as if he’d been standing there next to me. My mother’s eyes were bright, in love. Now she was a hollowed-out shell of the person in this picture.

“What are you thinking about?” Josh asked, dropping our bags on the living room rug.

I didn’t bother trying to smile. “This place was my refuge, the promise he made to my mom that one day he wouldn’t be in the army anymore.”

Josh picked up a framed picture of Gus and Dad smiling, both covered in chocolate from a failed attempt at brownies. “It’s good you have it. Another place to feel him in.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Nothing is going according to plan. Everything is falling apart around me.” I swatted away a tear, the damn things wouldn’t stop coming. “Why couldn’t he have been a banker? An electrician?”

He put the frame down on the end table, his eyes taking on an odd intensity. “He was needed, Ember. He saved a lot of lives.”

“Yeah, all but his.”

The silence in the house ached through me, bordering on pain. This was a place of laughter and raucous behavior, where Mom’s rules slipped and Dad had no other priorities. This is where they locked their bedroom door on Sunday mornings, and where we learned to make our own breakfasts. This was our haven. Was. Why was everything
was
lately?

Josh distracted me perfectly. “Tell me something about him that makes you smile.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “Anything you loved.”

There were ten thousand things about my dad that I loved. How could I pick just one? But if there was one . . . “The journals.”

“Journals?”

I smiled, thinking back to all the times I caught him hunched over his computer. “He wrote in a journal every day. Well, he typed it. He said he was too lazy to handwrite anything. Personally, I don’t think the man could even read his own handwriting. It was atrocious.” I laughed at the memory. “He kept everything on his computer. He told me that writing everything down cleared his mind, left him ready to tackle the next obstacle. It was his ultimate superpower, the ability to let everything go by just acknowledging it.” I wanted that ability. I wanted the peace he always carried with him.

But more than that, I realized I wanted to read those journals, especially the ones from these last few months. I wanted to know his thoughts, his fears, what it was about his job that made losing his life worth it.

I blinked slowly as if that would clear all the events of the last few weeks from the slate and leave it clean. “Well, since we have all night . . .” I crossed the floor into the kitchen, climbing easily onto the counter to reach the cabinet above the refrigerator. I brought down a clear bottle wrapped in a green ribbon. “Tequila?”

A slow smile spread across Josh’s face, and I nearly dropped my precious cargo. The guy was lethal with that weapon. He streaked his fingers across his short hair, and I saw the blood. “Are you okay?” I asked, setting the bottle on the counter and reaching for his damaged hand.

He shrugged at the sight. “Knuckles are swollen, but that’s not my blood.”

I pulled him to the farmhouse sink, then rinsed Riley’s blood off his hand, watching the fading red tendrils escape down the drain. “Ice?”

“No, I’m fine, really.”

I examined the swelling, brushing my fingers over his skin. What would these hands feel like on my body? I glanced up at him, absorbing the way his eyes darkened as awareness spread between us. His eyes followed the motion as I wet my suddenly dry lips before I gave him his hand back.

Oblivion was calling, and I was more than ready to answer. “In that case, grab the limes out of my bag, because I need to get drunk.”

“As the lady wishes,” he joked as he retrieved the little green gems.

Three shots later, the tequila took effect as heat settled into my belly. I threw another lime wedge into the garbage and hopped up onto the counter in my bare feet and dry pajama pants. I’d long since ditched the wet jeans.

Josh leaned against the counter across from me, keeping up shot for shot. “Feeling better?”

I reached back behind me, opening the cabinet by feel and grabbing a bag of chips. Sour cream and onion were Dad’s favorite. “I’m not really sure there’s an option of feeling worse.” I popped open the bag and shoved a handful in my mouth, offering him the bag. “I’m done dwelling on me. Distract me.”

“How?” His eyes narrowed.

Kiss me. Make me forget.
“Tell me what happened to badass Josh Walker from high school? I remember you having hair down to your chin—”

“Hockey.”

“And that black motorcycle . . .”

“In storage.”

“Why? More illegal fun that’s not up for discussion?”

“That was six years ago, December. Besides, would you drive a motorcycle in the middle of a Colorado winter?”

“Good point.” He rolled the bag of chips, placing it behind him on the counter. Every movement he made fascinated me. “You’re so different now.”

His hands flexed on the counter, whitening his knuckles. “How so?”