Tara Sivec - Closer to the Edge (Playing With Fire #4)

Closer to the Edge Copyright © 2014 Tara Sivec All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author. License Notice This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you wish to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Disclaimer This is a work of adult fiction. The author does not endorse or condone any of the behavior enclosed within. The subject

4/629

matter is not appropriate for minors. Please note this novel contains profanity and explicit sexual situations. All trademarks and copyrighted items mentioned are the property of their respective owners. Editing by Nikki Rushbrook and Donna Soluri. Cover Art by Okay Creations Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats https://www.facebook.com/FictionalFormats

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

6/629

Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24

7/629

Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Epilogue

Romantic Comedy The Chocolate Lovers Series: Seduction and Snacks (Chocolate Lovers #1) Futures and Frosting (Chocolate Lovers #2) Troubles and Treats (Chocolate Lovers #3) The Chocoholics Series: Love and Lists (Chocoholics #1) Passion and Ponies (Chocoholics #2) Tattoos and TaTas (Chocoholics #2.5) – Coming October 1, 2014 Romantic Suspense The Playing With Fire Series: A Beautiful Lie (Playing With Fire #1) Because of You (Playing With Fire #2) Worn Me Down (Playing With Fire #3)

9/629

Closer to the Edge (Playing With Fire #4)

Romantic Suspense/Erotica The Ignite Trilogy Burned (Ignite Trilogy Volume 1) Branded (Ignite Trilogy Volume 2) – Coming Winter 2014 Scorched (Ignite Trilogy Volume 3) – Coming Spring 2015

New Adult Drama Watch Over Me Romantic Comedy/Mystery The Fool Me Once Series: Shame on You (Fool Me Once #1) Shame on Me (Fool Me Once #2)

10/629

Shame on Him (Fool Me Once #3) Closer to the Edge (Playing With Fire #4)

For all the fans who took a chance on my venture into romantic suspense almost two years ago. Thank you for loving my Navy SEAL boys.

“I NEED TWO men covering the southwest entrance. We’re not letting these assholes disappear into thin air again,” I mutter into my wireless mic. Scanning the dense rainforest that has served as our basecamp the last few days, I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead and silently curse the bulletproof vest and tactical gear piled on my body, the extra layers

13/629

making the humid weather in this place a thousand times worse. Please, God, don’t let anything get fucked up this time. After nine months in the Dominican Republic, gathering intel, living out of fleabag motels and completely cut off from communication with anyone back home, I’m ready for this to be over. I’m ready to put an end to the monster who’s haunted my dreams for two years, who kept me from a future with the woman I love and who was directly responsible for the deaths of my best friends. My thoughts, momentarily consumed by all the things I’ve lost and the hope that it’s not too late to get at least one of them back when this is all said and done, are interrupted by the static from the mic in my ear. “I’ve

14/629

got movement coming from an upstairs window, south side, third from the left. Permission to fire?” Crouching down, I slowly inch my way through the brush two hundred yards from the two-story shack hidden in the woods. “We need a positive I.D. on Fernandez before you take the shot. I repeat, do not take the shot until identification is established.” I hear Hoss curse through the mic. “Motherfucker keeps moving in and out of range. I’m going to try and get closer.” Chuck ‘Hoss’ Miller is one of the best sharp shooters I’ve ever met, aside from myself, and I trust him to finish this job. He earned his nickname the very first time he opened his country bumpkin mouth and his Tennessee twang boomed through the room.

15/629

Pressing my back up against the trunk of a palm tree, I take a deep breath, the muggy tropical air making it feel like I’m breathing in water. It fucking pisses me off that I’m not going to be the one to put a bullet through Luis Fernandez’s head, but it was more than obvious to my SEAL commander that I’m too close to this situation to be the one to pull the trigger. Just knowing the fucker who ruined so many lives is almost close enough to spit on makes my blood boil. As much as it pains me to admit it, I don’t know if I could actually go through with ending his life with one shot between the eyes. A quick and painless death is too good for this worthless piece of shit.

16/629

A rustling in the trees to my left has me swinging in that direction, both hands firmly clasping my Navy-issued Sig Saur. “Don’t shoot, dick head,” Hoss whispers as he weaves his way in between the vegetation that surrounds us. He may sound like an extra on Hee Haw, but the dude is built like a brick shithouse. Tossing bales of hay and wrestling steer on the family farm helped produce biceps roughly the size of my entire body. He looks like one of those steroid-induced body builders whose arms are so big they probably can’t even wipe their own ass, but he’s a hell of a shot and can take down ten men without breaking a sweat, so I don’t give a fuck about his bathroom hygiene. I lower my weapon and turn back to face the house. “Everyone in place?”

17/629

Hoss stops next to me and we both stare straight ahead, waiting for movement from within. “Yep. Lucky followed Zeus to the southwest entrance so he could babysit him.” I shake my head with a snort. Rob ‘Lucky’ McKenzie, aptly named for his ability to cheat death every fucking time it comes knocking on his door, doesn’t have arms the size of tree stumps like Hoss, but he does have a guardian angel perpetually perched on his shoulder. Since everyone who fucks with him easily meets his Maker, Lucky is usually charged with keeping an eye on Paul ‘Zeus’ Simpson. The youngest of us and the one voted Most Likely to be Distracted—Squirrel!, Zeus (Zero Effort Unless Supervised) always needs a keeper.

18/629

This is my team, the men I handpicked to come back to hell with me. They have no wives, no children and no family left waiting for them at home, worrying and praying for their safe return. They are loners who live and breathe the SEALs, and they are exactly the kind of men I wanted with me this time. When I left the Dominican after the mission that killed my best friends two years ago, I thought I could move on. I honestly believed I could forget the horrors I’d witnessed, settle down with a good woman and never look back. For a year and a half, I managed to fool myself and everyone else into thinking I could be the guy who left the SEALs, set up house on the beach and did nothing but make love to his woman and

19/629

dream about a future that was just within his grasp. It was working, too. For eighteen months, my life was damn near perfect, but one late night call from my old section chief completely obliterated the fantasy I’d created. Luis Fernandez, brother of Emilio Fernandez, the former president of the Dominican Republic and the man we took down two years ago for running an underage prostitution ring, was taking up the reins of the family business. Behind the scenes, with the help of Emilio’s loyal followers, Luis Fernandez picked right up where his brother left off after he was killed in prison. Under Luis’ watch, the prostitution ring had become more organized and more deadly, with

20/629

young girls disappearing right under people’s noses and a steadily climbing body count. I had no problem reminding the chief that I was retired, living the good life on the beach in California, and that this mission, not on US soil or involving US citizens, was not my problem. The first time we ventured into the Dominican to break up the prostitution ring, it was personal. One of our own had faked his death and claimed his spot as the son of President Fernandez, helping the sick bastard kidnap and rape young girls. Risner would have to find someone else to lead the SEAL team back to the Dominican this time, though. That mission stole two of my best friends and left nightmares, cold sweats and enough fucking guilt to fill an ocean in its wake. I certainly wasn’t immune

21/629

to the suffering of this new batch of girls, but I didn’t want to go back to the place where I lost part of myself. I didn’t want any reminder of the men I let down and left behind. It didn’t take much from Risner to change my mind, to walk away from the best thing I’ve ever known, telling her not to wait for me because I might not be coming back. Chief knew what he was doing when he told me their newest intel proved that Luis Fernandez was the one who pulled the trigger that took down King and Dragon. Jared King and Chris Dragon, my best friends since high school and men I thought of as brothers, were my backup during every mission and, for all intents and purposes, my family. My own flesh and blood didn’t give a rat’s ass about me after I refused to follow

22/629

along in my father’s footsteps and become the Chief of Staff at UC San Diego Health System. The night the chief delivered that news was the same night my nightmares returned with a vengeance. The same night I relived holding Dragon in my arms as his life bled out into my hands. The same night I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing the look on King’s wife’s face when I informed her that her husband wasn’t coming home, that he would never get to meet the baby boy she carried in her stomach. For hours that night, I tried to block out the sound of Dragon’s mother sobbing as she crumbled to the floor, King’s wife screaming while she punched me in the chest and the raspy, painful breaths

23/629

Dragon took as the bullet in his collapsed lung ended his life. She held me through the nightmares, promising me that they would get better and she would always be there to help me forget, but I could tell from the look on her face that she knew. She knew as soon as I took that call that it was the beginning of the end, knew I would never rest while their killer was still out there somewhere. I shut down, I pushed her away and I forced myself to forget all about the future we were trying to build. Out of everyone in my life, I knew she would understand my need to finish this, to see it through to the end, but, from the very beginning, I shielded her from the truth. I should’ve been honest with her. Now, along with the rest of the memories that plague my

24/629

sleep at night, I have to relive the look on her face when I told her good-bye, when I told her that she should move on and forget about me in case I didn’t come home. She’s too good a woman to be sitting around, waiting for a man chasing ghosts halfway across the world. “Hey, fuckers, we’ve got men exiting the building on this side,” Lucky announces through the mic. Hoss and I get low to the ground as we rush towards Lucky and Zeus’ location, careful not to make a sound as we step over fallen branches and trudge through the dense ground covering. We were led to this old, abandoned house in the middle of Bum Fuck, Nowhere, where Luis has scheduled a meeting tonight,

25/629

by a tip from a confidential informant. For nine long months, the slippery little fucker has managed to elude us, using decoys and feeding false information to the right people, but we’ve got him cornered this time. Our plan is to wait until they exit the building and take them out when they are in plain sight. Even though the four of us are the best at what we do, it’s still four against entirely too many shady assholes who fight dirty for us to risk barging into the house, guns blazing. I’m not taking any unnecessary chances with my men this time. We stay hidden, we get the job done and we get the fuck out of Dodge. I refuse to bring any more of my men home in flag-draped caskets. As we continue working our way through the undergrowth, smacking low-hanging

26/629

branches and shrubs out of our way, the sharp crack of a bullet hitting a tree trunk inches from my face has Hoss and I diving to the ground. “MOTHERFUCK! How do they know we’re here?” Hoss growls as we army-crawl through the leaves and dirt while the zipping sound of more bullets soar through the air above our heads, hitting trees in a staccato ping ping ping or disappearing into the brush when they don’t smack into their target. “Lucky, what the fuck is going on?” I shout into the mic, crawling across the forest floor as fast as I can. “Zeus is down! Son of a fucking bitch, he’s been hit!” Lucky screams in my ear. “Jesus Christ! I don’t know what the fuck

27/629

happened. We were just sitting here when bullets started flying. Goddammit, Zeus, open your fucking eyes!” I don’t even realize I’ve stopped crawling until Hoss looks back over his shoulder at me. I can see his mouth moving, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. My ears are filled with the whooshing sound of my blood pumping and the echoes of my own screams as I recall in stark clarity the events of two years ago, memories of Dragon and King, flat on their backs, struggling to survive, completely paralyzing me. This can’t be happening again. God, please don’t let this happen again. A hard punch to my arm shakes me out of my nightmare. Blinking my eyes into focus, I see Hoss’ ugly mug two inches from my

28/629

face. His shouts, blocked out by my own mind a few seconds ago, quickly explode around me like someone hit the power button on a radio they forgot they left turned up full blast when they last shut it off. “…MOTHERFUCKING HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS, VARGAS, AND MOVE!” It would be one thing if he was just pissed off, but I see a look of concern on his face that I don’t fucking need right now. Shoving his hand off of my arm angrily, I get back up on my knees and move, keeping my body as low to the ground as I can as I quickly shuffle past him. The bullets are still soaring around us and Lucky continues to shout through the mic, but I tune it all out. I don’t have time to

29/629

get sucked into the past; I have a fucking job to do. As I weave in and out of trees and shrubs, I take a few of my own shots in the direction where the bullets are coming from. With all the foliage, I don’t have a clear view of where these assholes are. I specifically put Lucky and Zeus on the other side of the house because that’s where the men have been coming and going and where they would have a clear view of everyone. Hoss and I are running blind, shooting at anything we can as we rush to Lucky and Zeus. “I see them, fifty yards to the right!” Hoss yells from behind me. I continue firing as my eyes locate Lucky, crouched down on the ground, hovering over Zeus.

30/629

Swallowing back the bile that hovers in my throat as I get closer, I see blood seeping between Lucky’s fingers as he holds pressure to the wound in Zeus’s shoulder. Hoss and I dive to the ground next to Lucky. Hoss covers us with a rain of bullets while I unzip the pocket in my tactical vest that holds medical supplies. Pushing Lucky aside, I quickly press a wad of gauze to the hole in Zeus’s shoulder. His eyes pop open and he screams in pain when I push down on the wound. “Hey, look who’s awake. Stop being a pussy, it’s just a flesh wound,” I tell him, lightening the situation with a little humor so I don’t completely lose my shit. Grabbing the medical tape out of the pocket with one hand while I continue to

31/629

hold the gauze to Zeus’s arm, I rip off a long strip with my teeth and wrap it around his upper arm. Lucky moves back in once I’ve got Zeus bandaged up. He grabs Zeus’s good arm and pulls him up, wrapping that arm around his neck while he holds him around the waist. “Get his ass to the retrieval point, Hoss and I will finish this off,” I tell Lucky. “Fuck you! I’m not leaving!” Zeus argues as he winces in pain when Lucky starts to drag him away. “This is not up for discussion. You’re wounded and you need to get the fuck out of here!” I yell back as I load a new clip in my piece and give Lucky a look that clearly says ‘Get him the fuck out of here before I beat both your asses’.

32/629

Lucky drags Zeus away bitching and moaning while Hoss and I get back into the game. “They stopped firing, I don’t like this shit,” Hoss mutters as we get in position behind a huge tree and look towards the house. “Where the fuck is everyone?” I search all around the house and see nothing but five black SUV’s still parked in the driveway on the side. There’s no one outside and there’s no movement in any of the dark windows. The sun has started to set but luckily there’s still enough daylight for us to not have to pull out our night vision goggles. “We need to get closer. They haven’t left. Those fuckers must have been shooting at us from inside the house. We’re going to have to go in,” I tell Hoss.

33/629

It’s a bad idea. I know this and Hoss knows this, but he keeps his mouth shut. We don’t have backup and even though we know how many people are inside that house, we don’t know what kind of firepower they have. They know we’re here so the element of surprise is good and truly fucked. Our only option is to turn tail and get out of here, or do what we came here to do. I want this to be over, one way or another. Hoss knows I’ll do whatever it takes to end this, even if it means I don’t make it out of this rainforest alive. “Well, what are we waiting for, let’s end this piece of shit,” Hoss says with a nod. We silently get closer to the house, covering each other while keeping an eye on the house for the glint of a gun poking out of one of the windows. We make it to the front door

34/629

easily and with one last fist-bump for good luck, I take a deep breath, kick in the door with my booted foot and charge into the house with Hoss right on my heals. Luckily, the dick heads gathered inside didn’t think we were suicidal and had no clue we would just come barreling inside their little hidey-hole. They were too busy arguing and looking out the windows to worry about us walking right through the front door. In a matter of minutes, seven of Fernandez’s men have matching bullet holes between their eyes as they all lay slumped in the middle of the living room. They managed to fire off a few defensive shots, but Hoss and I were faster and better skilled. Even though it was decided that I wouldn’t go near Fernandez, once I found him cowering in a

35/629

closet, I wasn’t about to hand the kill over to Hoss. I looked right in the bastard’s eyes, said the name of my friends he took from me, and emptied my clip into his pitiful face, blood and brain matter splattering the entire inside of the closet by the time my gun began clicking, signaling it was empty. I continued to pull the trigger, growing angrier and angrier by the second that I had run out of bullets. “Dude, I think he’s dead,” Hoss states, his arm coming down on my shoulder. With one last look at the mess I made of Fernandez, I turn to face Hoss and a sharp pain shoots up my right leg. I lose my footing, my leg unable to hold my weight and Hoss quickly moves to catch me before I hit the ground.

36/629

We both look down and a wave of nausea rushes through me when I see my shattered kneecap with a bullet lodged right in the center of it. During the commotion, I was running on so much anger and adrenalin that I didn’t even notice one of those fuckers managed to get in a shot at me. Now that I’m coming down from that high, I can feel every single mangled piece of my knee radiating so much pain that I can’t stop the blood curdling scream that comes out of my mouth. The last thing I remember before I black out is Hoss shaking his head, complaining about having to carry my ass all the way to the retrieval point. As I close my eyes and let the darkness wash over me, my only thought is of going home and begging her to take me back.

GRABBING THE TWO caramel macchiatos from the counter, I thank the barista and walk over to a corner table in the small coffee house. As soon as I sit down, the bell above the door chimes and my best friend, Parker, rushes in. Her eyes scan the room until she spots me, a huge smile lighting up her face. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Annie has officially hit the terrible two’s. She threw herself

38/629

on the floor in front of the door and screamed like she was on fire when I tried to leave,” Parker explains as she flops down next to me, grabbing one of the coffee cups and taking a healthy sip. I met Parker several years ago when she was a patient at the hospital I worked. Broken and alone, the stubborn little shit initially refused the friendship I tried to give her, but it didn’t take much to get her to crack. When she’s had a few drinks and her soft side comes out, she likes to reminisce about how I forced my way into her life and saved her. Nowadays, I’m the sappy one. I wouldn’t have survived the last year without her by my side.

39/629

“So are you excited about starting your new job tomorrow?” she asks, practically bouncing in her seat. I sigh, wrapping my hands around the paper cup to warm them. “Yeah, I’m overcome with excitement about the prospect of changing some crotchety old man’s bed pans while he either yells at me or tries to grab my ass.,” I deadpan. At Parker’s sympathetic look, I quickly paste on a fake smile so she doesn’t feel bad for me. I certainly don’t want her to think I’m ungrateful for the job her husband, Garrett, pulled a lot of strings to get it for me. I just never thought that the career and reputation I’d worked so hard to build would be ripped right out of my hands, or that I’d have to practically beg someone to hire me for the

40/629

job I was born to do. A wave of sadness washes over me when I think about the fact that I’ll never set foot on an ICU floor again. It’s strange for some people to grasp; it’s one of the most depressing floors to work on, but that never mattered to me. I loved being a nurse, I loved my job and I loved the people I worked with. I enjoyed taking care of people who were close to the edge of letting go, helping them slowly build themselves back up so they could eventually move out of the ICU ward and fully heal. “Hey, being an at-home-nurse has some advantages. You can catch up on soap operas while your patients sleep and snoop through their closets,” Parker says with a laugh. “Right, because some old, rich guy who lives in La Jolla is going to have a closet full

41/629

of amazing shoes,” I reply with a shake of my head. The smile slips from Parker’s face and she reaches over, resting her hand on top of mine. “Look, I know this isn’t your ideal job. What happened at UC San Diego was total bullshit and everyone who works there can go fuck themselves. Even though that bitch tried to ruin your life, you’re still here, still standing and you’re going to show her once and for all that you’re better than her.” Vivien Vargas is the bitch in question. I have to take a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart when I think about what I allowed her to do to me at a time when I was weak and naïve. She was my one link to him, the tiny little sliver of connection to the man who walked away from me, and trusting her

42/629

cost me everything. I foolishly believed our shared love for him would bring us closer, forge a bond to keep his memory alive even though he shattered my heart when he left. Even though he walked away without looking back, he had left something behind that meant more to me than anything else in the world. Vivien knew that and she took advantage of it. I clear my thoughts before I do something stupid like break down in the middle of the coffee shop. I spent the last three months not eating, barely sleeping and just generally feeling sorry for myself and the mess my life had become. With the help of my friends, I’m moving on once and for all. I’m putting the past behind me, where it belongs, and I’m starting fresh.

43/629

“You’re going to be fine, hon,” Parker reminds me. “The board reinstated your license after Garrett threatened to fuck up all of their lives. You’re still a nurse, doing what you love to do. I know you loved that place, but UC San Diego held too many bad memories. I’m glad that you don’t have to walk through those doors again.” I know she’s right, but it doesn’t lessen the pain. The six months leading up to the day everything went to shit were some of the hardest I’d ever faced. I felt the ghost of his presence in every corner of my world, including the hospital, a place that had always been my refuge. Everywhere I looked, instead of seeing the family lounge where we where shared meals he insisted upon bringing me or the supply closet where we shared more

44/629

than a few private moments, I saw the look on his face when he said good-bye in front of the nurses station the day he ripped my heart out of my chest with his bare hands and stomped all over it. The days I’d spent as a patient in that place hold enough horrible memories that I’m grateful I will never have to walk through those doors again. I’d never felt more sympathy for my old patients than during that week spent in the midst of my own personal hell, lying in a hospital bed and wishing I could die along with everything else in my life that had been ripped away. It hurt to be there; it hurt my heart and it hurt my soul. No matter where I looked, all I saw was everything that I’d lost. “It’s okay, I’m fine. Believe me, I’m not regretting the fact that I don’t have to spend

45/629

another minute in that place. It’s just sad knowing I’ll never work in any hospital ever again,” I tell her. Parker’s eyes narrow in irritation as she stares me down. “Stop it, right now. Garrett isn’t finished fucking people up. If anyone can get things straightened out, it’s going to be him. This mess is going to get cleared up once and for all and you will work in a hospital again, Liv. This is just a minor setback. You’re going to wipe Old Man Johnson’s ass, make sure he takes his vitamins and tuck him in at night. Before you know it, you’ll be back at a bigger and better hospital wiping three times as many asses.” We share a laugh and, for the first time in a very long time, it feels good to be happy. I’m so used to taking care of everyone else,

46/629

helping them with their problems and making them feel better, that it’s still a little tough for me to accept my friend’s help. Just like Parker when we first met, I did everything I could to push her away when I was in my deepest pit of despair. She was having no part of that nonsense, though, and she kicked my ass and brought me back to life. If it wasn’t for Parker and Garrett, I would still be curled up in the fetal position with the curtains drawn, wishing for a way to end the pain in my heart once and for all. “So, what time do you have to be at this guy’s house tomorrow?” Parker asks, finishing off the last of her coffee. “Eight. His house is in some fancy area of La Jolla, so it should only take me about twenty minutes to get there from Midtown.”

47/629

The nursing temp agency gave me the bare minimum of information about my client. I know he’s a vet who needs physical therapy and that he’s a stubborn ass who’s been through two other temp nurses in as many weeks. The agency glossed over the fact that the women left crying after he yelled and cursed at them every time they attempted to do their jobs. Obviously, my first day back in the work force is going to be anything but dull. “I don’t have a lot of details, but I know he lives in La Jolla Shores,” I tell her. Parker lets out a low whistle. “Ooooh, fancy! Garrett and I looked at a house there last year, but it was way out of our price range.”

48/629

I don’t comment on the fact that my ex’s family lives in La Jolla, or that the La Jolla Shores Country Club was the setting for the single meal I’d shared with his parents during the almost two years we spent together. Even though I had never been invited to Cole’s parents’ house, I knew enough about his family to suspect that the people who live in La Jolla Shores make a hell of a lot more than I do a year, a point that his mother reveled in driving home. Just the thought of having to drive through an area where I’ll have to breathe the same air as that woman makes my skin crawl. “Just make sure you don’t take any shit from this guy. I’m sure you’ll have that cute, little old man eating out of your hand in no time,” Parker snickers.

49/629

“How do you know he’s cute? He could be hideous. Maybe that’s why he goes through nurses like they’re candy.” “Honey, if they live in La Jolla Shores, they have enough money to make him cute. Who knows, maybe this will be your ticket back into the dating world,” Parker says with a smirk. According to Parker, a night of mindnumbing sex is the final step in my healing process, and she’s been trying everything she can the last few weeks to get me to go on a date. I know she means well, but that is the furthest thing from my mind and, thankfully, Garrett is on my side. Every time Parker brings it up, Garrett shuts her down and tells her to leave it alone.

50/629

“Right, because a sugar daddy is exactly what I need,” I tell her with a shake of my head. “Hey, if anyone can help you forget ‘he who shall not be named,’ it would be a crotchety old dude who lets you spend all of his money.” The smile on Parker’s face dies when she realizes what she just said and she immediately tries to backpedal. “Shit, I didn’t mean—” “It’s okay,” I cut her off reassuringly. “I know.” Having the mother of the man you love accuse you of being nothing more than a money hungry whore isn’t something you just shake off, but I know Parker didn’t mean to dredge up bad memories with her joke.

51/629

“And hey, I still have her uncashed check in a frame to prove that she was wrong about me, so there’s that,” I add, trying to lighten the conversation. “God, I wish I could kick that bitch’s ass,” Parker mutters. “You and me both. At least I’ll never have anything to do with her and her family again. I’m going to put on a happy face, kick ass at this job and move on.” Parker nods her head in agreement and we get up from the table and make our way outside. I pause on the sidewalk, tilting my chin up and closing my eyes as I take a deep breath and allow the sunlight to warm my face. I contemplated moving away from California after everything that happened, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Eliminating

52/629

every trace of him from my life was as close as I could get. I knew I would miss the beautiful weather and being able to walk out my back door and right onto the beach. The sun and the salty ocean air went a long way towards helping me heal. Tomorrow, I’m starting a new chapter of my life. The memories and the pain of the last year will be a thing of the past very soon, and hopefully, I’ll finally be able to let go once and for all.

“SON OF A bitch!” My curse is drowned out by the sound of a very large, very expensive vase crashing to the floor, bits and pieces of red porcelain scattering across the hardwood. Tipping my head back, I shout towards the ceiling. “Motherfucking piece of shit crutches!”

54/629

The door to the house opens without the courtesy of a knock and my mother tsks me. “Cole, language, dear.” Turning my back on her, I hobble over to the couch, using one of my crutches to shove the coffee table out of my way. I flop down on the cushions, throwing both of the offending pieces of metal across the room, not caring what they hit when they land. “I’ll have Martha come over and clean up this mess as soon as she’s finished making lunch,” mother tells me as she gingerly steps over the broken vase on the toes of her high heels. “It’s not Martha’s job to clean up after me. I don’t need a fucking housekeeper.” I know I shouldn’t be taking my frustrations out of my mother, but I can’t help it.

55/629

I’ve been back in the states for three months and, aside from the trips between here and the hospital, I haven’t been outside of this house. I’m climbing the walls from boredom, and my frustration at not being able to walk without the aid of crutches and being unable to do the simplest of tasks on my own has turned me into the crankiest of assholes. I also hate that I’m a grown ass man and I’ve been reduced to living in the guesthouse behind my parents’ home until I can maneuver on my own. “I’ll have Martha bring over one of the Persian rugs from your father’s study later this afternoon,” mother tells me, ignoring my outburst as she glances around the room. “I didn’t have time to get a decorator in here before you came home.”

56/629

Bringing both of my hands up, I rub my palms over my face, the stubble on my cheeks making a scratching noise, reminding me that I haven’t shaved since God knows when. “I don’t need a rug, I don’t need any more vases and I don’t need a decorator. I’m not staying here, Mother, you know that. As soon as I finish with my physical therapy and I can walk on my own, I’m going home.” My voice waivers when I say the word home. Even though these grounds and the connecting house is where I grew up, it’s not where I belong. The seventy-five hundred square foot monstrosity my parents own is filled with marble and expensive artwork, things I was never allowed to touch and rooms I was never allowed to enter. My

57/629

childhood home always felt like more of a museum than a place where people live, love and make memories. Even the guesthouse, though smaller and less ostentatious, still reflects my mother’s expensive taste and makes me feel like a bull in a china shop. Every time I turn a corner, I’m bumping into some overpriced piece of shit masquerading as art. There is only one place that will ever be home to me, a place full of bright colors, warmth and almost two years of the best memories of my life. I wanted nothing more than to go straight to the house we shared as soon as I woke up in the hospital after my last surgery. I wanted to walk through the front door she insisted on painting yellow because it made her happy when she came

58/629

home, I wanted to smell the vanilla scented candles she had lit in every single room and I wanted to stare at the photographs of the two of us she’d hung on every available inch of wall space. The minute I swung my legs over the edge of the hospital bed and looked down at my bandaged knee, I’d realized I wouldn’t be walking anywhere on my own anytime soon, especially through our front door. I needed to be one hundred percent better when I went home to the woman I love. Given the fact that she’d changed her number, something I’d discovered when my call to her cell phone the day I woke up stateside went to someone else, the odds of her accepting my sudden reappearance in her life weren’t looking so hot. Between the anesthesia-

59/629

induced disorientation and the pain of backto-back knee surgeries, I’ll admit I didn’t react very well when I heard another man answer what I thought was her phone. After the poor guy who had the unfortunate luck of getting her old number became the recipient of my jealous rage, I quickly realized I needed to get my fucking head on straight before I tried to talk her. “Cole, you’ve been gone for almost a year. I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m sure she’s moved on by now. I think it’s best if you just concentrate on your therapy and, when you’re ready, your father and I will help you find a new place to live. In the meantime, though, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like.”

60/629

My mother’s breezy tone as she talks about the love of my life “moving on” makes my palms sweat and my heart threaten to burst out of my chest. How many times in the last year did I have those very same thoughts while I lay awake at night in the middle of some Dominican rain forest? A hundred? A thousand? Every fucking night after the sun went down and the frustration of desperately searching for Fernandez faded into the quiet solitude of darkness, I wondered if someone else was holding her in his arms at that exact moment. I knew she deserved a man who wouldn’t leave her high and dry with a half-assed explanation as to why he had to go, but that didn’t make it any easier to imagine someone else kissing the

61/629

soft skin behind her neck or running his hands up the inside of her bare thighs. “Did you even try to keep in touch with her, like I asked?” I question my mother softly, pushing away the mental image of someone else’s hands on my girl. It was no secret that my mother never liked Olivia. The one meal we’d shared with my parents in the restaurant of the upscale country club where they’re members was the most strained, awkward experience of my life. While Olivia tried everything to make my mother like her, my mother did everything to prove to Olivia that she wasn’t good enough for me. When she asked Olivia if her dating me had anything to do with the inheritance that sat untouched in my bank account since I turned eighteen, I grabbed

62/629

Olivia’s hand, pulled her up from the table and told my mother to fuck off. We didn’t speak again until I went to her the day I left for the Dominican, begging her to look out for Olivia and make sure she was okay. “Of course I tried, Cole. I invited her to lunch several times, but she was quite rude to me every time I called. You’re better off without someone like that in your life. I told you that the day I looked into her file at the hospital,” she reminds me. I clench my jaw so hard I’m afraid I might crack a few teeth. Being the administrator at the hospital where Olivia worked, my mother had complete access to her personnel file and thought she was doing me a favor by pulling Olivia’s records and informing me how little income she had coming in.

63/629

According to my mother, this was surely proof that Olivia was only with me because she knew I had more money than I would ever spend in my lifetime. “I appreciate you letting me stay here while I heal, but if you say one more negative thing about Olivia, we’re done here. You know how I feel about her and, if you want to be part of my life, you will respect that.” The haughty look on my mother’s face quickly disappears as she nervously fiddles with her wedding ring and gives me a small smile. “I’m sorry, Cole, I just worry about you and your sister. Neither one of you seem to understand just how easy it is for someone to take advantage of you because of your money. Caroline practically hands out blank checks to every man she says hello to.”

64/629

Like her ears were burning, a knock sounds at the door before it’s slowly pushed open and Caroline appears in the doorway. “Doing some redecorating, Cole? The shards of glass remind me of an early Jackson Pollock. Very nice,” Caroline says with a laugh as she stares down at the broken vase. At twenty-eight-years-old, Caroline is seven years my junior and one of my best friends. She’s also a huge thorn in my mother’s side because of her cavalier attitude toward men and life in general. After our parents had me, my mother spent years trying to get pregnant again, losing one pregnancy after another. Part of me thinks that’s reason she behaves the way she does. No one can go through life with that much loss and come out the other side unscathed. It’s the main

65/629

reason why I continue to forgive her for her constant interference in my life. After her fifth miscarriage, my father put his foot down and they decided to adopt my sister. My mother spent years trying to mold Caroline into an exact replica of herself, forcing her to take etiquette classes and enrolling her in the most expensive private schools in the country. After she was kicked out of the seventh school for getting half the senior class drunk on homemade sangria, my mother finally gave up. Caroline lives to piss off our mother and she’s the only reason I didn’t write my entire family off years ago. “I was going for abstract expressionism,” I tell Caroline with a smile. “Nailed it.” My mother rolls her eyes as she checks her Cartier watch. “I have a board meeting

66/629

I’m going to be late for. I’ll check in on you later.” Caroline and I stay quiet until the door clicks shut behind her and then we both burst out laughing. The oppressive tension always present when my mother is in the vicinity quickly leaves my body and I relax into the cushions of the couch. “God, she’s such a bitch. Remind me again why we put up with her?” Caroline asks as she joins me on the couch. “Because she’s our mother and we have to,” I deadpan. “How’s the knee?” I wrap my hands around my thigh and pull my bum leg up to rest my foot on the coffee table in front of me, not bothering to try and hide the wince of pain. Today is the

67/629

first day I’ve been able to get out of bed without the help of a nurse, but moving from the bedroom to the living room on my own exhausted me. “Hurts like a mother fucker,” I tell her as we both stare at the post-op knee brace that goes from mid-thigh to mid-calf on my right leg. “Well, your new nurse will be here tomorrow morning to get you back into tip top shape. Can you please try not to make this one cry? It’s becoming difficult to explain to the temp agency every week why another of their nurses couldn’t hack your charming personality,” Caroline scolds. I give Caroline an apologetic look and shrug my shoulders. “Did you tell them to stop sending me toddlers fresh out of

68/629

nursing school? It’s not my fault they can’t handle a little bad language when I get pissed off.” “Cole, you called the last one a pushy bitch and told her to go fuck herself when she tried to help you take a shower,” she reminds me. “Exactly. I’m perfectly capable of washing my own ass. I’ve been doing it unassisted for years.” She shakes her head at me, patting the thigh of my good leg. “Can you just promise me that you won’t throw anything at this one? When I called that woman to apologize, all I could hear through the line was wailing.” “She wanted me to take a piss in a bed pan. A fucking bed pan, Caroline. It’s not my

69/629

fault she had slow reflexes and it almost hit her in the shoulder.” Listening to my sister remind me of the way I’ve behaved the last two weeks should make me feel bad, but it doesn’t. I’m a Goddamn Navy SEAL. I’ve been to war, I’ve taken down men twice my size and I’ve carried injured members of my team for miles through the harshest of conditions while bullets rained down around me. Being confined to a bed for three months and not being able to even get up to take a piss pushed me over the edge. Caroline raises her eyebrow at me and I sigh heavily. “Fine. I promise not to yell or throw things this time.” I just need to keep reminding myself that all of this bullshit is going to be worth it in

70/629

the end. Once I’m able to walk on my own two feet without the help of crutches, I can concentrate on getting my girl back. It doesn’t escape my attention that I’m spending all of this time away so I can stand tall in front of her. Just so I can get down on my knees and beg for her forgiveness.

“YELLOW, HUH?” I smiled to myself when I heard his voice behind me on the front porch and continued to move the paintbrush up and down over the wood. “Yep, yellow. Do you have a problem with yellow, Mr. Vargas?” His hands grabbed onto my hips and pulled my body against him, the warmth of

72/629

his bare chest radiating through my thin tank top. “I have no problem with a yellow door, Miss Lafierre. Whatever makes you happy.” His breath whispered against the back of my neck, goose bumps rising on my skin even though it was almost ninety degrees outside. I continued adding the second coat of yellow paint to the front door, trying not to let his closeness distract me. “Did you have a nice run on the beach?” Instead of answering me, he removed one hand from my hip, pulled my long black hair off my shoulder and kissed the spot right below my ear. I exhaled a shaky breath when I felt his tongue against my skin, lightly sucking and

73/629

nipping at the area that always turned me on. “My run was good, but I cut it short. This is a much better way to get my blood pumping,” he whispered against my ear. I pushed back into him, feeling his erection hot and hard against my ass and he let out a soft groan. “It feels like your blood is already pumping in one general area,” I told him with a small laugh, my project long forgotten as the paintbrush dangled precariously from the hand hanging limply at my side. The large, callused hand still resting on my hip made its way inside the waistband of my tiny cotton shorts, his fingertips brushing against my clit. The paintbrush clattered to the floor of the porch and I

74/629

couldn’t even bring myself to care that there would be a mess of yellow paint to clean up later. I closed my eyes and dropped my head back to his shoulder, his fingers sliding through my wetness before they slowly pushed inside me. “Fuck, I love the way you feel. I could touch you like this forever and never get tired of it,” he said, wrapping his lips around my earlobe and tugging it into his mouth. Two of his fingers filled me while his thumb brushed back and forth against my clit, my hips rocking against his hand while he tortured me with his words. “We probably shouldn’t be doing this on the front porch where the neighbors can see

75/629

us. Mrs. Watson might have a heart attack,” I mumbled, my hands reaching back to clutch onto his hips. His fingers never slowed, the sweet agony they brought making me hum my approval even though I knew we should move inside. “Mrs. Watson needs more excitement in her life than pruning her fucking rose bushes,” he informed me, his arm tightening around my middle as he held me firmly against him. “Maybe when she hears you screaming my name as you come she’ll stop trying to listen in on our conversations all the time.” A beeping sound rang in my ears, each annoying high-pitched note playing in tune

76/629

with the rhythm of his fingers as they plunged in and out of me. “You should turn that off,” he muttered, his fingers moving faster while my orgasm teetered right on the edge. The beeping continued, growing louder and louder as my hips moved faster, reaching for the release that was right within my grasp. “Come for me, baby,” he crooned, holding his fingers still inside of me as deep as they could go. BEEP BEEP BEEP I jerk awake, my eyes blinking rapidly and my breath coming in short gasps.

77/629

Resting my hand against my chest, I feel my rapid heartbeat fluttering against my palm. The angry cry of my alarm clock echoes around the room and I reach out with a shaky hand, smacking the off button. Flinging the covers off of my sweaty body, I feel the tingling remnants of my unachieved orgasm between my legs and I silently curse that damn X-rated fantasy. Did I really just have a wet dream? It’s not like I haven’t had them before, but it’s definitely been a while. My dreams about him are usually of the nightmarish variety and revolve around the pain and devastation he left behind, not the thrill and excitement he gave my body. Pushing the dream from my mind, I drag myself into the bathroom to shower and get

78/629

ready for my first day at my new job. I need to concentrate on making a good first impression with my patient, so I definitely don’t need thoughts of him overwhelming me. It’s taken me entirely too long to try and forget about him, and I don’t need some stupid dream messing with the progress I’ve made. An hour and a half later, dressed in a new pair of pale blue scrubs with a white, long-sleeved t-shirt underneath and my thick black hair pulled back in a high ponytail, I make a last-minute decision and whip my car into the parking lot of Krispy Kreme Donuts. The red neon ‘Hot Now’ sign in the front window called to me like a lighthouse beacon in a storm. If I can’t charm my grumpy new patient with my bedside

79/629

manner, hopefully fresh, warm donuts will do the trick. As I stand off to the side of the counter after I place my order, I feel a hand lightly brush my shoulder. “Excuse me, are you a doctor?” Turning around, I’m met with the gorgeous green eyes and handsome face of a man in a business suit. My libido instantly flashes back to the dream from this morning, but my brain shuts it down quickly and reminds me that heartbreak isn’t worth any amount of good looks. “Sorry, no, I’m a nurse. Do you need help with something?” The corner of his mouth pulls up in a smile and a dimple appears. I’ve always been a sucker for dimples.

80/629

“I don’t know. As soon as I saw you walk through the door, my heart started fluttering. Is that a medical problem? Or maybe something you can fix by going out to dinner with me?” Oh, my God, are you kidding me? I force myself not to roll my eyes as he inches his way into my personal space, resting his elbow on the counter right next to me. I take a step back and look for the young kid who took my order, hoping he’ll hurry his ass up so I can get out of here. “So, what do you say? Dinner and drinks tonight? You can bring your stethoscope and check out my heart,” the guy says with a chuckle, completely unaware that I’ve moved further away from him and I’m trying to

81/629

figure out a way to escape before I vomit on his shiny black loafers. Seriously, what is it with guys and nurse fetishes? Do they have any idea how unsexy it is to put in catheters and take a rectal temperature? “Sorry, I’m busy tonight,” I mutter, not bothering to look at him when I speak. “Tomorrow night, then. How about eight o’clock?” I should probably be flattered that a relatively attractive man is hitting on me the first time I’m out in public alone without looking like death warmed over, but I’m not. I know eventually I need to get back on the dating horse, so to speak, but it’s not going to be any time soon, and it’s definitely not going to be with this guy. When I decide I’m

82/629

ready to date again, it will be someone whose voice alone makes me weak in the knees and whose touch my body recognizes, craving the pleasure he can bring me with a single brush of his fingertips. You had that once and look how wonderful THAT turned out. An image of Cole and his dimples pops into my head and my skin starts to warm, remembering the feel of his hands on my body so long ago. The memory pisses me off enough that I lose whatever patience I have left. “Look, I’m just hear for the fresh donuts. How about you take your creepy pick-up lines somewhere else?” My words hit home and he quickly pulls back from me with a scowl. Before he can fire

83/629

off the insult that I’m sure is on the tip of his tongue, the Krispy Kreme employee saves me. “Ma’am, your order’s ready.” With a quick thank you, I grab the green and white box from his hands and high tail it out of the building without a second glance at Mr. Charming. Fifteen minutes later, I pull my car up to the huge, black iron gate at the address I programmed into my GPS and roll my window down, smiling at the guard in his little building right beside it. “Good morning, I’m Olivia Lafierre, the temp nurse.” The older gentleman leans through the open window of his building, flipping a page on his clipboard.

84/629

“Yep, got your name right here. You’ll be going to the guesthouse, not the main house. When I open the gate, just follow the driveway about a half-mile until you come to a fork in the road. Take a left, drive for another half-mile and you’ll see the house right in front of you. You can park in the turnaround in front of the porch.” I thank him as he disappears inside the building and, a few seconds later, a buzzing sound fills the air and the iron gates slowly part until I can pull through. “Jesus, welcome to Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous,” I mutter to myself as I inch my car down the blacktop driveway and stare at the professionally landscaped hedges and flower gardens along the way.

85/629

When I pull up to the front of the “guesthouse” a few minutes later, my jaw drops open. If this is what they use for the guests, I can only imagine what the main house looks like. This thing is easily ten times the size of my home. As I open my car door and step out onto the pavement, I stare at the white, Spanish Mediterranean-style house in front of me. Reaching back into my car, I grab my medical bag and the box of donuts, bumping the door shut with my hip before making my way up the front stairs and under the huge stone archway that leads to the door. With a deep breath, I ring the doorbell and wait. Something crashes on the other side of the door and I hear a few low, muffled curses followed by a loud thump. According to the

86/629

information I received from the temp agency, the man isn’t able to get around very well and is need of physical therapy, so I wonder if I should just walk in. Transferring the box of donuts to my other hand, I juggle it and my medical bag and reach up to knock on the door, speaking through the wood. “Hello? Is everything okay in there?” When I hear another crash, this one louder than the last, my concern for the wellbeing of this man outweighs the inappropriateness of waltzing through a stranger’s door uninvited. I quickly turn the handle and push open the door, sticking my head inside. When I don’t see anyone in the foyer or its

87/629

immediate vicinity, I move the rest of the way inside, closing the door behind me. “Hello?” I shout again, my voice echoing around the vaulted ceiling in the entryway. “…fucking BULLSHIT!” I hear the stifled tail end of another curse coming from a room down the hall in front of me. This guy could be in serious pain. What if he fell out of bed? I can’t just stand here, waiting for him to come to me. The last thing I need is for him to complain to the agency that his nurse didn’t come to his aid. My decision made, I head down the hall in the direction of the noise. The first door I come to is cracked open, so I push against it with the palm of my free hand. The door gets stuck against something on the floor and,

88/629

looking down, I see a pair of crutches blocking it from opening fully. I use the toe of my Nikes to move them out of the way, the door opening wide once the obstructions are gone. “Holy shit.” My head jerks up at the sound of that voice, a voice that is clear as a bell and achingly familiar without the obscurity provided by layers of wood and drywall. This can’t be happening. This isn’t real, I must still be dreaming. My bag and the box of donuts slip from under my arm, a blood pressure cuff, stethoscope, a pile of other medical supplies and a dozen donuts scattering at my feet as I stare at the man sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the bed.

89/629

I can see his lips moving, but I don’t hear a single word he’s saying. I can’t even tell if I’m screaming out loud or if it’s just in my head. The only thing I know is that I need to get the hell out of here right now. Without a word, I back out of the room, turn and walk blindly down the hall and away from the man who has occupied both my dreams and nightmares for the last year.

“WELCOME HOME, BROTHER. How’s the knee?” I try not to curse when my friend Austin asks about my knee. I’m so damn tired of people asking how my knee is. It was shot off in the Dominican, how the fuck do you think it is? “It’s great, everything is great,” I reply, trying to hold the phone against my ear as I

91/629

lean over the side of the bed to grab the set of crutches resting against the nightstand. “I’m glad you made it back. Jesus, I feel like I haven’t talked to you in a year. Oh, wait. I haven’t,” Austin deadpans. Right when my fingertip manages to reach a crutch, it tips over and lands on the floor, way out of my reach. “MOTHERFUCKER!” I shout in irritation. Austin laughs. “Dude, I was just kidding.” “Not you, my damn crutch just fell over and now I can’t reach it.” It was really nice of Caroline to stop by again last night and help me get into bed, but she could have at least put my crutches on the bed next to me.

92/629

“How did the debrief go when you got back to the states? Captain Risner was tightlipped about the whole thing. You aren’t in any trouble for the mess you made of Fernandez’s face, are you?” After I passed out in the abandoned house in the Dominican, Hoss hauled me back to the extraction point and I was airlifted to Centro Medico University Hospital in Santo Domingo. They managed to remove the bullet and stabilize my knee so I was able to travel back to the states. I was a little nervous that they’d bring me to UC San Diego here in California since that’s where I live and my parents pretty much run the place. I definitely didn’t want my first interaction with Olivia to be while I was laid out on a hospital bed, teetering in and out of

93/629

consciousness and fucked up on morphine. Thankfully, due to the confidentiality of the mission, they took me right to Walter Reed in D.C. “You know how it goes. One of his men turned on him and made that mess, not me,” I inform Austin. When you’re a Navy SEAL, a lot of the shit that happens during a mission never makes it into the final reports, especially when you’re doing something that wasn’t officially sanctioned by the military. Like going after a former president’s brother for killing your best friends. “I figured as much, otherwise I’d be talking to you while you spent time in the brig, being someone’s bitch,” Austin laughs,

94/629

mentioning the US Navy jail where soldiers go for dishonorable conduct. “Nope, after I had my second surgery in D.C., the guys from Joint Special Ops Command set up camp in my hospital room. I spent eight hours going through the whole bullshit of telling them what actually happened so they could make up a believable story to go in the final report,” I explained. “The new head of the Dominican isn’t putting up a fight about it. He’s still trying to clean up the mess the first Fernandez left behind and doesn’t need any more bad press for the country.” Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, the foot of my bad leg bumps into the lone crutch still standing and sends it toppling over next to the other one on the floor.

95/629

While Austin talks my ear off about what’s been going on in his life since I last spoke to him almost a year ago, I grit my teeth and lower myself to the floor. Once I’m down there, though, I quickly realize my error. There’s no fucking way I’m going to be able to get back up, crutches or not. I cut Austin off in the middle of some story about his girlfriend Gwen and something “cute” her daughter did the night before. “Man, I gotta go. My nurse is going to be here soon.” I don’t tell him that listening to him ramble on and on about his new family and how in love he is just makes me feel like the biggest asshole on the planet. I could have had that for myself. I did have it for myself and I threw it all away.

96/629

“Ooooh, is she hot? You should make her give you a sponge bath,” Austin informs me. “You’re an asshole. If she’s anything like the last two, she’s going to be pushy and annoying and she’ll probably leave here crying after I tell her to stop hovering.” I hang up on Austin, cutting him off in the middle of some bullshit about Gwen and a sexy nurse costume, and toss my cell phone up onto the nightstand. Leaning over, I grab my crutches and stare at them helplessly, hating that I have to depend on someone else to do the simplest of tasks—like hauling my ass off the fucking floor. With a loud shout, I throw the crutches across the room, where they slam into the door, knocking the painting hanging on the wall beside it to the floor with a crash.

97/629

Throwing my head back against the edge of the bed, I close my eyes and think about a time when I wasn’t some weak asshole who needed help with every little thing, when I was a cocky son of a bitch doing whatever I could to bury the bad memories and have a good life. “I can’t believe you set me up,” I complained to Parker as we stood in the living room of her and Garrett’s new home, speaking in hushed voices. Parker invited me over for dinner under the guise of checking out the new house they just purchased in Midtown San Diego. I should have known something was up when I saw the unfamiliar car in the driveway.

98/629

“Stop being such a bitch,” Parker bit back with a roll of her eyes. “Olivia is really sweet, she’s got a great personality and she’s single.” “You do realize what ‘great personality’ means to a guy, right? Come on, be honest. She’s a dog, isn’t she?” Parker smacked me in the arm. “She was my nurse when I was in the hospital in D.C. and she kicked my ass and got me to stop feeling sorry for myself. She’s just here visiting for the weekend, but I’m trying to convince her to move to San Diego. She doesn’t have any family, I miss her and I want her close. Play nice and don’t fuck this up.” Before I could argue with Parker about how I didn’t need to be set up with anyone,

99/629

especially someone ‘sweet with a great personality,’ I heard voices coming from the kitchen. “Olivia wanted to talk to Garrett for a few minutes alone,” Parker said in explanation with a shrug. I left Parker in the living room and headed towards the back of the house. I was happy that my friends had managed to overcome so much bullshit and find happiness together. As I walked through the house, past pictures of the two of them hanging on the walls, I was only slightly jealous that I didn’t have someone to come home to. I wasn’t in the market for a relationship, though. I had too much baggage, too many nightmares and nothing to give another person. I’d left everything I had

100/629

bleeding to death on the ground in the Dominican a few months ago, and it would take a strong woman, someone who probably didn’t even exist, to pull me out of my funk and get me to have a normal life like the one Parker and Garrett were living. One with a nice house, a picket fence and a baby on the way. I pushed those thoughts aside as I made it to the kitchen doorway, peering inside the room to see the back of a woman with long black hair, facing down Garrett with her hands on her hips. She was almost as tall as Garrett, with a great ass that I couldn’t help staring at. “I don’t care if you are a Navy SEAL, if you hurt her again, I will hunt you down like a rabid dog and kick your sorry ass.”

101/629

Her soft, smooth voice carried just enough edge that I kind of wanted to cover my dick with my hands in a show of sympathy for Garrett. Wearing jeans that hugged every curve and a pair of tall, spiked heel boots, I had a feeling that Garrett’s balls and one of those pointy toes would become intimately acquainted if he said one wrong word. “Parker is like a sister to me,” Olivia continued. “She finally looks and sounds happy and you better keep her that way or you’re going to have to deal with me. I know how to use a scalpel, so don’t piss me off.” My sudden laughter announced my presence. Garrett’s eyes met mine and he mouthed a silent ‘Thank you, God’ for

102/629

saving him from sudden death by pissed off chick. And then, the pissed off chick in question turned around to face me, causing my heart to thunder in my chest and my dick to stir to life inside my jeans. To say she was beautiful was the biggest fucking understatement in the world. Long, wavy black hair framed her face and hung down over one shoulder, leaving the other one bare to my roving eyes. She wore some type of off-the shoulder, long-sleeved shirt and my hands itched to touch the naked, olive-toned skin on display. Her gorgeous, bright blue eyes narrowed and bore into me, indicating her obvious displeasure at having been interrupted. I knew I was standing there like a slack-

103/629

jawed moron, but I couldn’t help it. All my life, I’d been drawn to skinny, pale blondes, women with very little substance who were both easy and eager to please and effortless to walk away from. Every shitty relationship and quick fuck had been with the same type of recycled woman, so much alike that they could’ve been interchangeable. Looking back, I clearly had a type, and obviously that type was the wrong fucking choice. I should have been looking for an exotic beauty like the one standing in front of me, all tanned skin and mouthwatering curves. As I stared down at tits that were clearly more than a handful, judging by the way they strained against her shirt when she crossed her arms underneath them, my

104/629

goddess rolled her striking eyes and tapped her foot in irritation. “Olivia, this is my friend Cole. Cole, Olivia,” Garrett introduced, walking around Olivia and heading towards the doorway where I stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go tell Parker how much I love her.” Garrett smacked me on the shoulder as he walked by. “Good luck, buddy,” he whispered before heading off in search of Parker, most likely to grovel at her feet and spare himself the wrath of the woman standing in front of me. When we were finally alone, I watched Olivia’s tongue dart out to wet her perfect, full lips as I struggled to remember how to speak.

105/629

“So, you’re Olivia,” I finally said, realizing I sounded like a complete idiot but unable to do a damn thing about it. “And you’re Cole,” she replied, the honeyed sound of her voice masking the irritation on her face. “Just so you know, I had nothing to do with this asinine set-up.” I nodded and laughed. “Duly noted.” “Also, I work at a hospital in DC. I’m surrounded by arrogant military men on a daily basis who think that a charming smile and a snap of their fingers will get them in my pants.” I tried to hide my smile, but it was no use. I wasn’t about to snap my fingers or anything demeaning like that, but I was sure as hell thinking about how I could use my charm to the best of my ability to ensure

106/629

her clothes ended up on my bedroom floor tonight. “Lucky for you, I’m retired from the military,” I told her, folding my arms across my chest, mimicking her pose. I caught her giving me a quick, top to toe inspection and made sure to flex the muscles in my arms and chest just a bit, the corner of my mouth tilting up in a satisfied smirk as I watched her tongue dart out to wet her lips again. “Still not interested,” she replied immediately. She was lying. I’d just met this woman, but I was a Navy SEAL, trained to pick up on the subtle signs someone gives when they aren’t telling the truth: the way she avoided my eyes when she said she wasn’t

107/629

interested, how her throat flexed with each swallow she took, indicating anxiety and dryness in the mouth, and how the pointer finger on her left hand nervously tapped over and over against her arm Her beauty immediately turned me on, but that feigned, aloof indifference was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Women found me attractive and I’d never had a hard time finding someone to warm my bed. It’s cocky, but it’s true. I’ve never chased a woman, but I willingly admitted that I’d chase this one for as long as it took. There was something about Olivia that was unlike any woman I’d ever met, aside from the obvious in the looks department. She wasn’t afraid to threaten a hard-assed SEAL like

108/629

Garrett and she didn’t hesitate to put me in my place, even if she was lying. “It’s okay, I’m not interested either,” I lied right back with a nonchalant shrug of my shoulders. “Let’s just get through this dinner, humor Garrett and Parker and then we can go our separate ways.” Her eyes widened in surprise and I’m absolutely certain she didn’t expect that to come out of my mouth. Shit, I didn’t expect to say something like that either, but I quickly realized it was the right move. Her arms relaxed at her sides and, even though I could still see the wariness in her eyes, at least she’d loosened up a little. I had no intention of going anywhere without Olivia, but she didn’t need to know that right now. I was going to have fun

109/629

chasing this one and when I finally caught her, I knew it would be that much sweeter. A creaking sound jolts me out of my stupor and I shake off the remnants of my daydream of the day Olivia and I met. Since Parker was pregnant and not drinking and Garrett stayed sober in sympathy for her, Olivia and I finished off every bit of alcohol they had in the house over dinner. We left our cars in their driveway and shared a cab back to Olivia’s hotel. As we ripped off each other’s clothes as soon as the door to her room closed, she informed me that this was a one-time thing and what happened in San Diego, stayed in San Diego. I was a little shocked when I woke up alone the next morning and realized she was serious. She’d

110/629

checked out while I slept and went back to D.C. without so much as a note saying goodbye. It took weeks of phone calls, text messages and a few impromptu trips out to D.C., showing up at her place of employment and shocking the hell out of her with my dedication, but I eventually wore her down and convinced her to give me a chance. Two months after we met, she was packing up her things and moving to San Diego. She claimed it was to be closer to Parker and I let her hold onto that belief for a little while. When she was spending more time in my bed than hanging out with her friend, I finally made her admit that I’d gotten under her skin. A month after that, we bought a house down the street from Garrett and Parker in

111/629

Midtown and, for the next eighteen months, I thought my life was damn near perfect. I watch as the toe of a tennis shoe pokes through the sliver of an opening in my bedroom door, nudging my crutches out of the way. Barricade removed, the door swings open and suddenly, like something right out my fucking dreams, she’s standing there in front of me. I blink several times so I’m certain of what I’m seeing. Her blue eyes shine against the scrubs she’s wearing and I have a clear view of her gorgeous face, her hair pulled back from it. I don’t know what she’s doing here and, right now, I don’t care. I don’t care that I’m going to need her help to get off of the floor, I don’t even care that she’s going to see me at my weakest. After a year without her, seeing her again feels like

112/629

I’m breathing for the first time. She’s my air, my life and my heart. Why in the fuck did I ever leave her?

I MAKE IT out the front door before I hear him call my name. Just the sound of his voice makes a lump form in my throat, and I angrily squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to let the tears fall. I’ve shed enough tears for Cole Vargas; he doesn’t deserve any more. When I hear my name again, the anguish and pain in his voice as it travels down the hall and out the open front door makes my

114/629

footsteps falter. Even though the sight of him completely blindsided me and I want to scream and punch something, I’m still a nurse. He’s on the ground and his crutches are halfway across the room. I don’t know what happened to him while he was gone and I don’t care, but I can’t ignore the fact that he’s injured and needs my help. No matter how much I want to get in my car and drive as far away from him as possible, I can’t. The professional side of me won’t let that happen. Scrubbing my hands down my face, I take a few calming breaths. I’ll go back in there, help him get up and then I’m out of here. I’ll call the agency and tell them to find him a new nurse because there is no way in hell I’m doing this job.

115/629

A stab of guilt rushes through me when I think about all of the strings Garrett pulled to get me this job. He’ll understand. He has to understand. Garrett was there during my darkest hours. He knows firsthand the pain I went through after Cole left and there’s no way he’d want me anywhere near him knowing how hard I’ve fought to forget. I feel the depression and grief that usually accompany thoughts of Cole wrapping around my heart and squeezing the fight out of me. I know I can’t go back to that, my sanity won’t allow it, so I push the darkness and sorrow aside and allow my anger to take over instead. I allow myself a moment with my memories—the ones that consumed my life for so many months, leaving me a broken mess—before I channel all of that emotion

116/629

into rage towards the man who caused every bit of my heartache. The man who sits on the floor of his bedroom, still calling out to me. Lifting my chin, I turn and march back into the house and down the hall. He’s still propped up against the bed, exactly where I left him. I refuse to look at his face as I step over the spilled donuts and my bag of medical supplies. “You came back,” he whispers as I crouch down by his side. Wordlessly, I grab onto his arm, throwing it over my shoulder and wrapping my own arm around his waist as I attempt to ignore the heat of his skin through his shirt. After a brief struggle, I manage to help him stand. As I step away from him and move towards his crutches, both of his arms

117/629

wrap around my waist and he pulls me against him. For just a moment, I’m thrown back in time and I can almost pretend like he was never gone. I can almost imagine that he was here this entire time and the past year never happened. The strong arms that always made me feel safe band around me and the solid wall of his chest is close enough for me to rest my cheek against like I used to do. It would be so easy to lean into him and let him hold me, let him take away the pain. “Jesus Christ. I forgot how beautiful you are.” His softly muttered words bring me right back to the present. He’s not the man I used to know. He’s not the man who will take away all of my fears and love me

118/629

unconditionally. He forgot about me, but I never forgot about him. I have got to get the fuck out of here. Clenching my teeth, I angrily yank my body out of his hold and take a few steps back. My sudden movement causes him to lose his balance and he teeters for a second on his good leg before quickly wrapping a hand around one of his bedposts. “Liv—” “Don’t,” I cut him off with a growl. It’s hard enough being in the same room with him. I can’t handle hearing him use my nickname, the one he used to whisper in my ear so reverently when he pushed inside of me; the one he would chuckle when I said something funny. “I know you’re angry,” he starts.

119/629

I laugh in his face. I know I sound like a crazy lunatic and I don’t care. I feel like a damn crazy lunatic. My emotions are all over the place and I don’t know what to do with them. “You don’t know a damn thing about me,” I tell him with a shake of my head as I turn away from him and grab his crutches. I thrust them into his hands and ignore the way he’s staring at me, like he’s trying to see right through me, like my face will give him all of the answers he seeks. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he tells me, pushing the crutches under his arms and moving closer to me. “Well, I didn’t want to see you at all. I guess we don’t always get what we want,” I remind him.

120/629

He curses when I move out of his reach again and begin picking up the mess by the door, shoving my supplies haphazardly into my bag and the donuts back into the box. I hear the thump of the crutches on the floor as he moves behind me. “Please, just let me explain.” Cleaning up the last of the mess, I stand and whirl around to face him. “You don’t need to explain anything. Your actions a year ago spoke volumes. I didn’t come back in this room because I need anything from you; I came back in here because it’s my job. Now that you’re back on your feet, I’m leaving. I’ll have the agency send someone new.” I can’t be in this room with him any longer. Just being this close to him, I can already feel my anger slipping away. He was

121/629

always such a strong, proud man. Seeing him injured and needing help tugs at heartstrings I didn’t think existed inside of me anymore. “Please, love. I just got you back, don’t go.” The anger bubbles right back up to the surface. “Don’t you dare call me love. I am not your love. I stopped being that to you the day you walked away. You don’t get to stand there and pretend like everything can be erased with a few endearments and shitty excuses.” He curses again, throws his head back and roars towards the ceiling. “Goddammit! I’m trying here, Liv. There’s so much I want to say and I’m not doing a good job of it. I’m fucking everything up.”

122/629

I laugh cynically and shake my head at him. “You fucked everything up a long time ago. I don’t want anything from you. I came back in here because you needed help and I felt sorry for you.” My words have the desired effect and I watch the pleading look on his face quickly disappear. There’s nothing worse than telling a Navy SEAL that you think he’s weak and pathetic. Gone is the man who, moments ago, would have done anything to get me to listen to his explanations. Gone is the softness and vulnerability that clouded his features. In its place is a stony mask of coldness and indifference. It’s exactly what I wanted. I didn’t want to see the look of love shining in his eyes or his defenses crumbling at his feet. I’m the

123/629

weak one when it comes to that side of Cole. It’s a side I’ve rarely seen and never been able to ignore. It’s much easier to deal with the Cole who has shut down than the one who wears his heart on his sleeve. “I’ll make sure the agency sends a new nurse as soon as possible. Good-bye, Cole.” He doesn’t say a word as I turn and make my way out of the house. He doesn’t call out to me and he doesn’t try to plead his case. The pain seeing him again called forth disappears and I feel good about the fact that I finally turned the tables on him. This time, I’m the one saying good-bye and walking away without a backwards glance.

“WILL YOU GET your ass back in bed? You do realize that your inability to follow the doctor’s instructions is what landed you back in the hospital, right?” I poke my head out of the bathroom door in my tiny hospital room and scowl at Caroline. My nurse, who I told to leave me the fuck alone when she tried to help me into the bathroom, quickly rushes over to my side

125/629

at Caroline’s orders. She wraps her arm around my waist and walks me back to the bed. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine it’s Olivia’s arms around me. The nurse, whose name I didn’t bother to remember, has the same long black hair as Olivia, but that’s where the similarities end. Where Olivia is tall and slender with just the right amount of curves, this woman is short and plump. She’s also got a nasally, whiny voice, where Olivia’s is soft and sweet. Except her voice isn’t sweet and soft anymore; it’s cold and hard. Even when we fought, which wasn’t often, she never looked at me the way she did before she turned her back and walked away from me the other day, like she couldn’t stand being in my presence.

126/629

Caroline stares down at me with an irritated scowl once I’m situated back in bed, but I ignore her, folding my arms angrily across my chest and giving the nurse a curt nod when she tells me she’ll be back in to check on me. I don’t need Caroline to remind me that this particular hospital stay is my own damn fault. While Olivia stormed out of the house a few days ago, the words she threw at me began playing on a loop in my head. I felt sorry for you. I felt sorry for you. I felt sorry for you. As soon as I heard her car pull away, I staggered over to the main house on my crutches, went right to the workout room and pushed myself far beyond my current abilities. Four months ago, I could run

127/629

fifteen miles on the treadmill, bench press my body weight and spend an hour on the rowing machine, barely winded. I made it through twenty reps on the bench with eighty-pound weights, a few meager leg-lifts and attempted to walk-slashhobble for a mile on the treadmill before I fell off the fucking thing and had to crawl over to the phone in the corner of the room to call for help. In my haste to prove that I wasn’t weak and pathetic, I reopened my surgical incision, exposing myself to whatever nasty shit that caused the infection they’re pumping me full of antibiotics to fight. “Where the fuck is the doctor? I need to get out of this hospital. I’m going crazy.”

128/629

Caroline shakes her head at me before grabbing a chair by the window, pulling it closer to the bed and plopping down on it. “If you weren’t such a stubborn ass, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.” I know she’s right, but I don’t need to hear it. I want to go home, pull my head out of my ass and find some way to convince Olivia to talk to me long enough to give her the explanation she deserves. Jesus, I wasn’t lying when I told her I’d almost forgotten how beautiful she is. Seeing her in pale blue scrubs reminded me of all the mornings I laid in bed, watching her get dressed for work. I’ve been tormented by images of her sitting on the bench at the foot of our bed wrapped in a towel, rubbing lotion to her skin, and the way she’d brush out her long,

129/629

black hair before pulling it up onto the top of her head in a ponytail. I interrupted her morning routine often, pulling her on top of me as I released her hair from its tight confines and stripped her out her scrubs in between her laughing protests that I was going to make her late for work. Where did that woman go? The one who smiled easily and looked at me like I was her whole world. Did my leaving a year ago really do this to her? Turn her into someone cold and distant? Someone who couldn’t even stand to look at me? I hated myself every single day for walking away from her, but that’s nothing compared to the disappointment in myself knowing that I’m the reason she doesn’t smile. It was a given that she’d be pissed the first time she saw me again, but I

130/629

thought she loved me enough to give me a chance to explain. There wasn’t a single trace of love shining in her crystal blue eyes and it fucking killed me. “So, do you want to tell me what threw you into a tizzy this time? I’m going to assume by the squealing of tires I heard the other day that you forced another nurse into early retirement,” Caroline laughs, bringing her feet up to the edge of my bed and crossing her legs at the ankles. I honestly can’t explain why I hadn’t told Caroline that Olivia was the nurse the agency sent, or that I royally fucked up my first meeting with her. Seeing Olivia again, having her in my arms, if only for a few seconds, completely rocked my world. I guess I didn’t want my memories of the smell of her skin,

131/629

the softness of her hair brushing against my cheek and the way her body fit against mine like it was made for me tainted with “I told you so’s.” I love my sister, but she wouldn’t waste any time telling me how I fucked up. Aside from my old SEAL brother Garrett, Caroline was the only other person in my life who understood the extent of my feelings for Olivia. She knew how much I loved her and how leaving her almost ripped me in two. I’m sure she’d be on my side and help me in any way possible to get Olivia back, but this is something I need to do on my own. I need help with practically everything else in my life right now because of this fucking knee, so I have to do this myself. I need to feel like I have full control over something in my life, even if it’s just this one thing.

132/629

“So, I have bad news and I have really bad news. Which do you want first?” Caroline asks, bringing me out of my pity party. She continues without waiting for my answer. “I called the agency and you, my friend, are all out of nurses. They refuse to send you someone new.” “I don’t want someone new,” I tell her firmly. Caroline narrows her eyes at me for a second and I backpedal just a little bit so she won’t get suspicious. “I mean, this one wasn’t fresh out of nursing school and knew what she was doing. It was my fault. I was just in a bad mood.”

133/629

She accepts my answer easily and shrugs. “Yeah, and that would be the really bad news. She doesn’t want you. I told the guy we would pay triple her normal salary and she still turned the job down. So, unless you want me to be your nurse, you better figure something out. Might I suggest groveling? Maybe a few tears? If you want, I can call them back and sweet talk the guy into giving me the nurse’s name and home address so you—” “No!” I shout, interrupting her. Putting a smile on my face, I lower my voice. “I mean, I don’t want to bother this woman anymore than I already have. It’s okay, I’ll figure something out.”

134/629

All I want is a chance to explain everything to Olivia, just one chance. I never told her about Dragon and King. I didn’t share with her the guilt that ate me alive every single day after I left them in the Dominican. I should have told her, but I thought I was protecting her by keeping my nightmares to myself. Olivia was my heart, my soul and my future. She gave me everything of herself, but I didn’t do the same. I never wanted her to see me as anything other than the strong, confident man she fell in love with. I’m not used to exposing my weaknesses. Letting someone see that there is a chink in your armor just gives them the power to crash through it and bring you to your knees. In my foolish attempts to guard my heart and protect my ego, I’d

135/629

forgotten how little I actually minded being on my knees. Olivia brought me to them the day I met her and it was the best fucking place to be. Caroline drops her feet from the edge of my bed and stands. “Well, if you really want the same nurse, you better come up with a good plan. You obviously suck at apologies and sweet talk, so that’s out. This chick doesn’t want money, so that’s a no-go, as well. You could always take a page out of Mother’s book and blackmail her.” Caroline laughs and I smile right along with her, thinking about how our mother would absolutely stoop to something like that to get her way. The smile dies on my face, though, the longer I think about it.

136/629

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” I mutter to myself, the plan already taking root in my brain. “I really don’t like that look on your face.” She crosses her arms in front of her and stares down at me suspiciously. Playing it off with a laugh, I shoo her out of the room, telling her I need to get some rest. As soon as I’m alone, I start going over the idea in my head again. Blackmail isn’t really a word I want to associate with Olivia in any way. Emotional persuasion sounds so much better. Olivia could never turn down a challenge, especially when it came to her work. The harder the patient, the more determined she was to help them. Some guy wakes up from a coma and refuses to eat? She made it her life’s mission to get a few

137/629

scrambled eggs down his throat. A woman gets into a car accident and won’t do physical therapy? She wouldn’t sleep until she got that woman out of bed and had her doing laps around the hospital floor. My idea is probably a little shitty. Okay, it’s A LOT shitty, but right now I don’t give a fuck. All I need is the opportunity to be in the same room with her again, some time to let her see that the man she fell in love with is still here and willing to fight for her. When the doctor comes through the door a few minutes later to scold me once again for pushing myself too far, I don’t curse at him or bitch about going home. I have a smile on my face and, if I could walk without crutches, I’d have a spring in my fucking step.

“I DON’T THINK I have enough wine stocked in the house for this.” I laugh at the shocked look on Parker’s face, the two of us facing each other on her couch with our legs tucked under us. After I left Cole, I couldn’t face going home. I was pissed and sad and so full of contradictory emotions I felt like I would explode. Parker and Garrett are my family and

139/629

I didn’t give it a second thought when I turned my car around and headed in the direction of their home. I’d spent the last fifteen minutes rehashing the morning’s events with Parker and I could finally feel a little bit of weight lifting off my shoulders. “I mean, seriously? Of all the people in this fucking city who need home nurses, you get assigned to Cole? This isn’t a coincidence, Olivia. You know that, right?” Shaking my head, I set my glass of wine down on the coffee table next to us. “Stop thinking like a CIA agent. Not everything is a conspiracy.” “It’s impossible for her to stop thinking like an agent. If Annie loses one of her toys, Parker sits her in a kitchen chair and shines

140/629

a light in her eyes until she breaks down and gives her intel on Barbie and Ken and where they might be hiding.” Parker reaches between us and grabs a pillow, chucking it straight at Garrett’s head as he walks into the living room. Garrett smacks the pillow away with a laugh before flopping down in a chair across from us. “You didn’t have anything to do with this, right?” Parker questions Garrett. It didn’t even occur to me that Garrett might have been behind this. He was the one who got me the job with the agency, making it possible for me to be a nurse again. Even though Garrett was supportive of me and stood by me alongside Parker through the events of the last year, Cole was still his friend first. He wasn’t happy with the way

141/629

Cole left and hated what happened to me in the months after, but he made it a point to shut Parker down when she called Cole’s character into question. In his own strong, calm way, Garrett stood up for Cole and the decision he made to leave, saying that there were reasons behind his actions and leaving it at that. I refused to question Garrett further about it at the time because knowing Cole had any reason to abandon the life we’d built hurt too much. “Fuck no,” Garrett replies. “I didn’t even know he was back stateside.” The irritation in his voice is evident. Cole was like a brother to him and he didn’t take it well when Cole shut him out and left without a single word. I knew enough about war in general and SEAL missions in

142/629

particular to comprehend that the things they’d seen and experienced brought them together in a way I would never fully understand. Having spent many nights lying beside Cole as he thrashed and screamed, I knew that he was haunted by nightmares only Garrett could relate to. I tried, I really tried to get Cole to open up to me. I let him know that he could tell me anything and I would help him any way I could, but he would always brush it off like it was no big deal. He was stubborn and strong, things I’d always loved about him. Looking back on it now, though, I realize his failure to share his nightmares with me made it easier for him to walk away. “I never thought he would come back,” I say, absently picking a piece of nonexistent

143/629

lint off of my scrubs. “When he said goodbye, it was like even he knew he wouldn’t survive whatever he was going to do. It was so final, so cold and detached.” “It’s just something I have to do, you wouldn’t understand. You deserve better than this, Olivia. Better than me. You have a whole life ahead of you to live. I don’t have that luxury and, honestly, I wouldn’t deserve it even if I did.” I’m still in a state of shock at having been in the same room with him, breathing the same air, so close that I could see the small scar by his right eye that I used to run my finger over. I honestly never thought I’d see him again. When he left, it was like he had

144/629

died. One day he was here and we were planning our future and the next, he was gone. All of his things had been removed from our house while I was at work, and it was like he had never even been there to begin with. I felt like the military wife who got that dreaded visit from the chaplain notifying me my man was missing in action. Nothing to bury, nothing to mourn, just a giant, gaping hole where he used to be. Instead of accepting his absence and moving on, I let anger and confusion fester inside of me until just thinking about Cole made me want to scream. “You know there’s one glaringly obviously suspect in all of this, right?” Parker asks, bringing me out of my thoughts. “This stinks of something the She-Devil would do.”

145/629

I shake my head in disagreement. “Cole’s mother would never do something like this. She made it quite obvious that she wanted me as far away from Cole as possible, which begs the question: how in the hell did I get assigned to Cole at all? She has her hand in every single part of that family’s life. There’s no way she didn’t do her research on the temp agency and run a thorough background check on whichever nurse they told her they were sending. She would’ve put the kibosh on that as soon as she saw my name. I wouldn’t have been allowed through the gates if she knew I was the nurse assigned to him.” Parker looks away from me and raises an eyebrow at Garrett. “What about Charles?”

146/629

“Cole’s dad?” Garrett questions. “Last I heard, he was forced into early retirement because he started making careless mistakes his wife wasn’t able to cover up anymore. The way it sounded to me, I’d guess dementia or early onset Alzheimer’s, but the press release issued by the hospital gave the standard ‘he’s ready to relax and enjoy his family.’ I don’t see him having the mental capacity to organize something like this right under his wife’s nose.” I’d met Charles Vargas the same day I’d met his wife. He was a tall, handsome man in his early sixties with salt and pepper hair. I could easily imagine Cole looking exactly like him when he got older. While Vivien assessed me with a shrewd, cold gaze, Charles had an easy smile and was extremely

147/629

polite—until his wife gave him the look, whereupon his kind eyes would immediately cloud over and his laidback nature turned stiff and detached. In the public eye, Charles Vargas was the head of the household, but Vivien ran that family with an iron fist behind closed doors. Aside from a few offhand comments about how they never agreed with his decision to join the military, Cole didn’t speak about his parents much, but it only took one hour at the dinner table to figure out how things worked in that family. “If anyone meddled to get you assigned to Cole, I’d say it was Caroline. She’s always been one to defy her mother and do whatever the hell she wants,” Garrett explains.

148/629

I always hoped that Caroline and I would be close. Cole’s younger sister was a little flighty and sometimes a little too dependent on Cole, but he clearly adored her and I thought maybe she could be the one person in that family who’d be on my side. For a time, she was. Cole and I made it a point to spend time with her when she was in town and she always joked about how we were so cute together she could puke and how she couldn’t wait to hold one of Cole’s babies. I feel the pain begin to roll through me and I have to change the direction of my thoughts before I break down in the middle of Parker and Garrett’s living room. It’s my own fault that Caroline and I didn’t keep in touch after Cole left. She came to visit me in the hospital and she tried in

149/629

her own way to be there for me, but I didn’t want anything to do with her. Her presence was a reminder of Cole and everything I’d lost, so I pushed her away, telling her I didn’t want anything to do with her, her parents or her brother ever again. The Vargas family was to blame for the downward spiral my life took, the reason I’d lost everything, and I just didn’t have forgiveness in me at the time. Thinking back on how overly supportive Caroline was of my relationship with Cole, I wonder if she somehow orchestrated this whole thing as a way to make up for the turmoil her family caused. Cole used to tell me stories about how Caroline wreaked havoc on her family’s good name by pulling one stunt after another and how it amused him that

150/629

their mother was unable to reel her in. Caroline would almost certainly know Vivien was researching the temp agency and could easily sneak in and change things up without her mother knowing. The more I thought about it, the more the idea made perfect sense. Caroline would like nothing more than to pull the wool over her mother’s eyes and do something she knew would piss Vivien off. She got great joy out of pushing her mother’s buttons. “It has to be Caroline,” I tell them. “Nothing else makes sense.” Parker nods, reaching for the bottle of wine and topping off my glass. “Alright, now that we have that settled, what are you going to do?”

151/629

I don’t know how to answer that question. I’ve always believed the anger and resentment built up towards Cole would make it easy to walk away from him and never look back. Now, I’m not so sure. Seeing him again was like ripping off a Band-Aid before the cut was good and healed. Cole’s return had picked the scab off of the wound his leaving left behind. I needed to cover it back up before the blood poured out of me until there was nothing left. Lifting my face, Garrett and I lock eyes. “Why did he leave?” I whisper. “Why did he think he didn’t deserve what I gave him?” Garrett leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together between them. “Hon, I can’t give you the answers you need. Even if I knew about all of

152/629

the demons in that guy’s head, it’s not my story to tell. I know you didn’t want to hear this before and, believe me, I understand. You had every right to be hurt by the way he left, but I want you to listen to me right now: He had his reasons. I know they don’t make sense to you. Shit, they barely make sense to me and I’ve been where he’s been. All I’m saying is, give him a chance to explain.” As I lie in bed later that night, a voicemail from the nursing agency left unreturned, I think about what Garrett said. I’ve been trying to let go of the anger and the resentment and finally move on, but the only way I can do that is to give Cole a chance to explain. It won’t heal the scars, but maybe it will finally stop the bleeding.

I DROVE PAST the house twice before I realized why—no more yellow door. The front porch and the shutters were still white, the siding still dark blue and the green, aluminum mailbox perched on the porch railing still had the giant dent from the time I attempted to teach Olivia how to properly swing a bat after we’d joined a softball league. She’d shuffled her feet too much when she swung

154/629

and accidentally slammed the metal bat right into it, sending that damn mailbox flying ass over end into the middle of the front yard. I had never laughed so hard in my life. “You might turn out to be our secret weapon this year. As long as the other team pitches mailboxes at you, we might actually win a few games,” I joked as Olivia came back up to the porch after retrieving the caved-in mailbox. “Ha, ha. Very funny.” She rested the mailbox back in its place on top of the railing and stood back, cocking her head to the side as she stared at it. “It’s not too bad. I could put a potted plant on the railing next to it and no one would even know.”

155/629

Coming up behind her, I slid my arms around her waist and rested my chin on her shoulder. “Or, I could just run to the hardware store and pick up a new one. We’ll just have to make sure batting practice takes place at least a hundred yards away from any type of solid object you could come in contact with.” Her body shook lightly with her laughter and she turned around in my arms to face me. Sliding her hands up my chest and over my shoulders, she clasped her fingers behind my neck. “You are not replacing this mailbox. It has character now. And every time we look at it, we’ll remember this day. You’ll also be reminded to never piss me off when I have a bat in my hand.”

156/629

The bittersweet memory plays in my mind as I park at the curb and hobble up the walk on my crutches, trying not to wince in pain every time my leg is jarred. The doctor told me I shouldn’t drive for a few weeks, but it’s not like I need my bum leg to drive the car, so I assumed that was just a suggestion on his part. I’m pretty sure the warning about staying off the leg completely for a week was legit, but I can’t afford to waste any more time sitting around with my thumb up my ass. I’ve wasted enough time with Olivia as it is. Climbing the porch steps is no easy feat, and I rest for a few seconds when I finally reach the top, leaning on my crutches to catch my breath as I stare at the front door. The bright, happy yellow has been painted

157/629

over and the dark, ugly brown brings my earlier joy at finally having a plan of action down a few notches. It sounds stupid, but that yellow door represented everything about the life I was trying to lead. Every time I came home and saw that door, I forgot about the blood, the death, the rapport of assault rifles and the screams of pain. When I looked at that sunny yellow, I saw hope, happiness and a bright future. Everything I’d ever wanted and needed was behind that door. The whole way over, I thought about my last encounter with Olivia, trying to figure out what I could do differently this time to calm her down and convince her to give me a chance to explain things. Seeing her for the first time after all those long, lonely nights,

158/629

my good intentions had flown right out the damn window. I just wanted to drink in the sight of her, tell her how much I missed her and how fucking beautiful she was. After the way I abandoned her, I should have realized she’d be pissed and platitudes and bullshit excuses were the last things she’d want to hear. It’s going to take time to make her understand why I had to leave and I’m going to have to be patient. I can’t rush this. Right now, my focus is on getting her to come back as my nurse. I need to convince her that she’s the only one who can do this job without her realizing I’m tricking her into spending more time with me. I feel slightly guilty about deceiving her, but I console myself with the knowledge that it’s for a good cause. This time, I’m playing for keeps.

159/629

I will not hold anything back when it comes to my past. She’s going to see everything—the good, the bad and the really fucking ugly. Let’s just hope I have what it takes to pull a little reverse psychology on her. Taking a few calming breaths, I put all my weight on my good leg and knock on the door. There’s no answer after a few minutes so I knock again, louder this time. I hear a muffled “The door’s open!” from inside. As I turn the handle and shove the door open wide enough to maneuver myself and the crutches through the doorway, I start to reprimand Olivia for leaving her door unlocked and for not checking to see who knocked. The words die on my lips when I see her rush down the hallway wearing nothing but a

160/629

towel that barely covers her. As she busily dries her hair with a hand towel, I stare in wonder at the paths created by the droplets of water falling onto her shoulders and chest. “Don’t kill me, Parker, I’m running late. I swear—” She stops abruptly when she sees me, the hand towel falling to the floor. “What the hell are you doing here?” she screeches, cinching the towel that was precariously close to falling off just a few seconds ago tighter around her body. It takes a minute for my mangled brain to form a sentence. The only thing I see, the only thing I can think about is all the smooth skin under that towel. The upper swells of her soft, firm tits are peeking out of the top and she’s trying hard to cover them up, but

161/629

every upward tug of the towel puts more bare thigh on display, so she hastily pulls at the bottom, as well. Up, down, up, down. She’s battling with the meager material to conceal her body, but it’s just making things worse. All that damp, bare skin on display makes my hands itch to run themselves up those thighs and my mouth water at the thought of licking every inch of her tits. Nine months in the Dominican plus three months spent in and out of hospitals stateside equals one year since I’ve felt this woman beneath me. Twelve dark, lonely months spent alone with only my memories of Olivia to jerk-off to. Now she’s here, mere feet away from me, the smell of her skin billowing around me, the scent of coconut burning into my brain

162/629

and acting like an accelerant for my dick. I’m so fucking hard that my dick hurts worse than my knee right now. I shift my body as best I can on my crutches and try not to wince as my hard-on rubs up against the front of my jeans. “You painted over the door.” I inwardly cringe at the gruff words that come out of my mouth. Olivia is staring at me like she wants to play with my intestines and that’s the best I can come up with? Giving up on the notion of modesty, she quits tugging at the towel and crosses her arms over her chest. “I decided yellow was an ugly color for a door.” I watch her eyes soften the tiniest bit as some of the anger goes out of her face. I wonder if she’s remembering the day we painted

163/629

the door. I’d come back early from my run on the beach because a bunch of teenagers were goofing around, lighting off fireworks. At the first sounds of the POP-POP-POP of the Cherry Bombs, my heart felt like it would explode in my chest and I dove to the sand, covering my head with my hands. It took me a few minutes to realize what the fuck was going on and, by the time I stood up and brushed the sand off of me, my adrenaline was pumping so hard I knew finishing my eight mile run wouldn’t be enough to calm my nerves. I needed Olivia. I needed her soft, reassuring voice and the heat from her body to bring me back down to earth. “Sorry to just show up like this,” I tell her with a shrug, hopping on my good leg to try and find a more comfortable way to stand.

164/629

Her eyes widen and she takes a few steps towards me. “Shit, your knee! You’re not supposed to be standing on that thing, are you? For God’s sake, sit down on the couch or something.” She reaches out to grab my arm, but I shoo her away with my hand. It’s bad enough standing here within touching distance of her when she’s practically naked. If she puts her hands on me, I will toss my crutches across the room and pull her into my arms, fucked up knee be damned. “It’s fine. It looks like you’re in a hurry to go somewhere, so I won’t take up much of your time.” A flash of guilt washes over her face and she breaks eye contact, staring down at her feet instead of me. For a minute I wonder if

165/629

she’s going on a date. She obviously thought I was Parker when I knocked on the door, but what if she’s doubling with Parker and Garrett? Jealously consumes me and I clench my fists tightly on the handles of the crutches. Why in the fuck did I tell her to move on when I left? In hindsight, it clearly wasn’t the smartest move, but I honestly never thought I would make it back alive from that mission and I wanted more than anything for her to be happy. Standing here now, faced with the possibility that she took my words to heart and made good on my request, has my guts in knots and my fist itching to go through the nearest wall. “No, it’s okay. Parker must be running late to pick me up for dinner with her and Garrett and… um, Garrett. So… yeah,” she

166/629

rambles, nervously crossing and uncrossing her arms in front of her. Fuck. Part of me wants to come right out and ask her if she has a date, but I’ve been nothing but an asshole where she’s concerned and, as much as I hate to admit it, it’s none of my business. Not yet, at least. “Look, things didn’t go exactly the way I planned last week when you showed up at the house. I imagined a thousand different times what I would say to you when I saw you again and I guess I was too shocked for any of it to make sense. I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I know I haven’t earned that right. You came to the house for a reason—because someone hired you to be my nurse and help me get this fucking knee back

167/629

in working order. I’m not going to lie; I’m not handling being a patient very well. I’ve been through a ton of nurses because they can’t handle my attitude or my temper, and the agency refuses to send anyone else. Unless I want Caroline fumbling her way through physical therapy in between shopping trips and talking my ear off about some new fucking pair of shoes that are ‘to die for,’ you’re my only hope.” I see a ghost of a smile curl up the corners of her mouth when I finish with my spiel. “You’re my only hope?” she repeats back, raising one eyebrow. “Did you really just quote Star Wars to me?” I laugh when I realize she’s right. “Hey, whatever works. But I know Star Wars isn’t

168/629

your thing. I could try some girly shit like Dirty Dancing or that stupid Notebook movie you made me watch a million times.” She lifts her palm up at me with a chuckle. “Please, God, no. You are not allowed to butcher my favorite movies.” “How about a bribe? Would a bribe work? I’ll give you a blank check,” I tease. Her smile immediately dies and her eyes cloud over, filling with tears. She blinks them away before they fall and takes a few steps back from me. I have no idea what the hell just happened, but I immediately want to apologize.” “Liv—” “I’ll be at your place tomorrow at 9 am so I can get a full rundown on the damage to your knee,” she interrupts, all business now.

169/629

“I’ll make an assessment on your range of motion and then draft up a therapy plan for you to approve. After that, we’ll come up with a schedule. Also, it might be a good idea for you to give Garrett a call. You know, your best friend? I’m sure he’d be happy to know that you’re alive.” She continues to walk backwards until she’s in the entrance to the hallway. “I have to finish getting ready. Can you lock the door behind you, please?” With that, she turns and disappears down the hallway. I hear the slam of the bedroom door a few seconds later and I let out the breath I’d been holding. I slowly make my way onto the porch, closing the door behind me after I make sure it’s locked, and carefully navigate the steps.

170/629

It takes so long to twist and turn and bend and hop to try and get myself into the fucking car without jarring or bending my knee that I’m sweating profusely and completely pissed off by the time I’m finally behind the steering wheel. Slamming my hand against the wheel, I curse loudly in the empty car and let my head thump back against the headrest. For a few minutes, my Olivia was back, the smiling, teasing, happy woman I’d fell in love and spent almost two years with. Then, faster than you could snap your fingers, she was gone. Everything I say and do is wrong where she’s concerned. I just can’t catch a fucking break. On top of the brush-off that still stings, my yellow door is gone, and I couldn’t help but notice that every single

171/629

picture of us had been stripped from the walls—the one of me cradling her in my arms after we won our first softball game, the black and white candid that Parker snuck of Olivia with her eyes closed and a smile on her face while I kissed her forehead and about a dozen others. There was only one photo left that I recognized, one that, twelve months ago, captured me and a smiling, happy Olivia sitting alongside Garrett and Parker at Christmastime. Now, it’s just a photo of Olivia, Parker and Garrett. I don’t know if my part of the picture was just folded back in the frame or if she cut me out completely, but seeing it felt like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed the life out of my heart.

172/629

Not only do I have the disaster I’ve made of my reunion with Olivia to contend with, I’m also filled with guilt over the way I’d cut my best friend out of my life. Olivia was right. I should have called Garrett as soon as I landed in the US. He was my brother and I’d pushed him away before I left. He’d been through so much after our mission in the Dominican that I didn’t want to bog him down with my own bullshit, but Garrett would have been the first person to understand my need to leave, my need for revenge and my need to get the justice my friends deserved. Not only do I need to make amends with Olivia, I need to make things right with my friend. My road to recovery is suddenly getting longer and a hell of a lot bumpier.

“MRS. VARGAS WILL see you now.” My foot stopped its nervous tapping on the tiled floor of the waiting area, transferring all that anxious energy right to my heart. As I stood and made my way around the assistant’s desk while she eyed me suspiciously, I hoped she couldn’t hear the thud of my heart threatening to burst out of my chest.

174/629

When I moved to San Diego and started seriously dating Cole, I got a job at UC San Diego before I even knew his parents practically ran the place. A few staff members made snide remarks about how I’d get special treatment: Extra vacation days, raises, promotions… they couldn’t have been more wrong. If anything, I had to work twice as hard to prove to them that I was damn good at my job and deserved everything I’d worked so hard for. One of the first lessons I’d learned after transferring to UC San Diego was that Vivien Vargas’ office was not somewhere I wanted to be summoned. With the help of her husband, she ran this hospital with an iron fist and there were only two reasons she would call you into her

175/629

office: to rip you a new asshole or to fire you. Considering how well our one and only meeting went, either of those options is viable right now, regardless of the fact that her son left me right when I needed him most and she no longer has to worry about me being a “gold digger” and “tainting his integrity and family name”. I pause in front of the large, cherry wood double door and try to calm my shaking hand as I knock gently to announce my presence before turning the handle and slowly pushing the door open. Vivien is seated behind the largest desk I’d ever seen, speaking to someone on the phone. Her auburn hair is perfectly coifed in a low bun, her flawless makeup conceals the

176/629

fact that she’s a woman in her fifties and the pale pink suit she’s wearing probably costs more than what I make in an entire month. I self-consciously slide my palms along the top of my head to try and smooth back my mess of a ponytail and grimace when I glance down at my scrubs, spotted with blood and a whole mess of other bodily fluids from my shift today. Thank God there isn’t a mirror in this office because I didn’t even want to know what my face looked like. At 5 am this morning, it had a light dusting of powder and blush and I’d even managed a few swipes of the mascara wand. Twelve backbreaking hours later, the powder and blush sweated off long ago and I’m sure the mascara has melted away and given me raccoon eyes.

177/629

Vivien motioned with her hand for me to take a seat as she ended her call. I pushed my ragged appearance out of my mind as best I could, perching myself at the edge of the chair opposite her desk as she hung up the phone and folded her hands in front of her. “Olivia, it’s good to see you again.” I felt a bubble of hysterical laughter tickling my throat and forced myself to cough instead of allow it to escape. “Likewise,” I muttered with a forced smile. If she’s going to lie through her teeth, then so am I. “I’m sure you can understand that Charles and I are just distraught over Cole’s decision to leave town. We were really

178/629

hoping that he’d start making smarter choices when it came to his future, but obviously that’s not the case.” Her pointed glare made my skin crawl with anger. Does she really think I had any involvement in his choice to leave? Does she think I wanted him to push me aside without a second thought? She got what she wanted—Cole as far away from me as possible. She should be dancing on top of her damn desk right now. He’d been gone for a little over a month, but I could still smell him on my sheets and trick myself into thinking it was all a dream and he’d walk through the front door at any moment. I was alone and miserable and my heart was torn in half. Vivien Vargas should be ecstatic.

179/629

“I’m going to get right to the point, Olivia. This hospital and my family are very important to me. I won’t allow anything to damage either one of them.” She unfolded her hands and rested one palm on top of a manila folder, sliding it across her desk towards me. I stared at the folder like it was a snake about to bite me, but Vivien pushed it until it was close to toppling off the edge of the desk and onto the floor. I had no choice but to take it. I licked my dry lips and swallowed nervously before grabbing the folder and opening it. My eyes scanned the document resting inside and my face heated with mortification. I knew this wasn’t something I’d be able to keep from her forever, but I had hoped to have a little more time to prepare

180/629

myself. I was still raw from the loss of Cole, and I wanted time to grow stronger before I shared this information with anyone, especially Vivien. I felt betrayed and angry that she’d used her hospital connections to dig into something so completely personal. This was MINE. The one thing Cole hadn’t destroyed when he left, the one piece of him that I could keep forever. It was my secret, my body, and my life. I was naïve to think any of that was true. Staring back at me inside the folder is a lab report with my name on it. Highlighted with a yellow marker are the words “HCG Quantitative—35,400 mlU/ml”. I have my own copy of this report hanging on my fridge at home. I thought that by doing the blood test myself and taking it downstairs

181/629

to the lab on my own, it would limit the number of people who would be privy to the information. While it’s true that the hospital has a very strict policy on patient confidentiality, when one of its own has something going on, the workplace gossip line travels faster than a forest fire. I looked up from the report, masking my feelings of anger and confusion. “This report was private and confidential.” I spoke with an air of conviction that I didn’t feel. Vivien smiled and cocked her head. “You should know by now that nothing in this hospital is confidential where I’m concerned. I need to know everything that is happening with my staff, otherwise it would

182/629

be complete anarchy. And when something happening with one of my staff involves one of my family members, that makes it especially my business. Assuming this predicament you’ve found yourself in is my son’s doing?” I immediately forget the fact that this woman is my boss and could toss me out on my ass. “Contrary to your opinion of me, I’m not a whore. Obviously, the baby is Cole’s.” My hand rests protectively over my stomach and, for the first time since I took the initial home pregnancy test three days after Cole left, I feel a strength flow through me that I thought I had lost. I have something to fight for. I have something to

183/629

live for and no amount of smugness from Vivien is going to ruin that. “Herein lays our problem,” she continued, ignoring my outburst. “If that’s the case, and my son really is responsible for this, he’s no longer in the picture. Do you really think you can do something like this on your own?” “I didn’t really get a choice in that matter, did I? I’m on my own and I WILL do it on my own. I’m not a child; I’m a grown woman. Whether or not I can handle this is of no concern to you.” Vivien sighed and leaned back in her chair. “No good can come from this, Olivia. You are a single woman, with no family to speak of. I realize that, in this day and age, no one bats an eye when some foolish

184/629

woman gets pregnant out of wedlock and sponges off of taxpayers’ money to raise their bastard children. But we aren’t talking about just anyone. The child you’re carrying is a Vargas. A child conceived without any thought to the ramifications of what this would do to our family name. I can’t have you walking around, flaunting your situation in the faces of my staff. I will not allow anything to ruin the legacy Charles and I have created.” I’m so shocked and appalled by her words that I can’t speak. Of all the things that I thought would come out of this woman’s mouth today, this most certainly wasn’t one of them. “There’s an envelope inside that folder. You will take what’s inside and I trust you

185/629

will do the right thing to resolve this situation you’ve gotten yourself in. Obviously, it’s a more than adequate amount, so feel free to use the remainder as you see fit. Maybe a vacation would be a good way for you to start fresh. I know you enjoy the job we’ve allowed you to keep for the last few years and I would hate to have to let you go or add any disparaging remarks to your personnel file that would prohibit you from ever practicing as a nurse again.” “Are you threatening me?” I whispered, finally finding my voice. “It’s not a threat, my dear. It’s the truth. Take the envelope, fix the problem.” I jolt awake in bed with a gasp. It takes me a few moments to calm my racing heart

186/629

and realize I’m alone in my room and not sitting across from Vivien in her office all those months ago. Realizing I’ll never be able to fall back asleep after that trip down memory lane, I slide out of bed and head across the hall to the other bedroom. The door to this room is always closed. I never open it and I never go inside. Every time I walk past this door to go to my bedroom or into the bathroom, I pretend that what lies on the other side doesn’t really exist, that this is just another empty room in the house. I can’t pretend anymore. The reappearance of Cole in my life is going to make me face my mistakes and my nightmares head-on. I’ve been so focused on finding out Cole’s secrets that I’ve allowed myself to forget that it’s a two-way street. If I want him to open up to me, I’m

187/629

going to have to do the same. I’ll have to tell him about what lies behind this closed door and how my actions led to this room sitting here empty and unused. With a shaking hand, I turn the knob and push the door open. I hold my breath and swallow past the lump that forms in my throat as soon as I see the shadow of the crib sitting against the wall beside the window. There’s just enough moonlight streaming through the window that I don’t bother turning on the lamp on the table next to it. Even if it were pitch dark in here, I wouldn’t need the light, anyway. The location of every single item in this room is burned into my brain. I walk right up to the crib and rest my hands on the smooth wood finish of the top

188/629

rail, staring at the frame hanging on the wall over the bed. When I left Vivien’s office that day, I waited until I got home to tear open the envelope she stuck behind the lab paperwork in the folder. I wanted to rip what was inside into tiny little pieces and mail it back to her, to light it on fire as I screamed in anger and frustration. Parker convinced me to frame it and hang it in the room as a reminder that I was strong and wouldn’t let anyone walk all over me. My fears over losing my job and never being able to do what I love again and raising a child on my own grew and festered until every breath I took threatened to choke me. I knew I could do it on my own, but I didn’t want to. I wanted the man I loved to be there with me, telling me everything

189/629

would be okay, but that would never happen. Even though I had Parker and Garrett’s support, it wasn’t enough. They had their own lives to lead, their own child to raise, and at the end of the day, I would always be alone. The joy I’d felt over finally having a family of my own was replaced by fear that consumed me bit by bit until it forced me to do something I will regret for the rest of my life. I stand in the dark room, staring up at the framed check on the wall, made out to me, in the amount of ten thousand dollars. The tears fall silently down my cheeks and I don’t bother wiping them away. I deserve the pain and misery that being in this room brings. At least I have one thing going for me—I never cashed that check. I never cashed that fucking check.

I STARE AT Olivia’s bowed head as she reads through the file that details the work that’s been done on my knee, from the initial surgery in the Dominican to remove the bullet to the two I’d had stateside to try to repair the resulting damage. Her long black hair is hanging loose around her shoulders, obscuring her face. I want to reach out and tuck it behind her ear so I can see her, but I’m

191/629

pretty sure she’d smack my hand away. When she walked through the door fifteen minutes ago, I tried to get her to smile, making a crack about the fact that she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt instead of scrubs. I told her she should have worn pediatric scrubs with kittens or puppies on them since she was dealing with a temperamental child with an attitude problem. She didn’t smile. She just brushed past me and went right to the couch. She asked for my medical records and has been studying them ever since. I want to ask her why she looks tired, to question the slight puffiness around her eyes that makes me wonder if she spent her night crying. I don’t ask because, selfishly, I don’t want to know if her tears were my fault. I don’t want my

192/629

reappearance in her life to cause her so much turmoil. I was an idiot for thinking I could just breeze right back in and everything could go back to the way it was. “You’re a very lucky man, Cole,” she finally says when she reaches the end of the paperwork, tossing the folder down on the coffee table in front of us. “If you hadn’t received medical attention as quickly as you did, you wouldn’t even have that leg anymore. Getting the knee stabilized so quickly after the injury was the only thing that saved you.” I nod my head in agreement, knowing I have Hoss to thank for hauling my ass back to the extraction point as fast as he could. “It was a pretty bad situation. Our team of four was cut in half pretty quickly, so it

193/629

was just me and Hoss left behind to finish the job.” She looks up at me and her eyes soften. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too painful.” I shake my head in disagreement. “No, I need to talk about it. I should have talked to you about everything a long time ago.” I start thinking about Dragon and King—my reasons for going back to the Dominican. As Navy SEALS, each of us took an oath to never quit and be physically and mentally stronger than our enemies. As friends and brothers, we took an oath to always have each other’s backs no matter what. I don’t realize my hands are shaking until I feel Olivia’s softer ones slide on top of them to still their movement. I look up into

194/629

her face and I don’t see pity, like I feared. I see understanding and compassion. “How about for right now, we just focus on the injury itself. You have six weeks of my torture sessions to talk about anything you want. In between cursing at me, of course,” she jokes softly. God, I love this woman. No matter what I told her when I left, I knew I would love her until I took my last breath. “I’ve been warned PT actually stands for pain and torture instead of physical therapy,” I tell her with a smile, flipping my hand over until her palm is resting against mine. She doesn’t immediately pull away and I take that as a good sign. Feeling a little bold and hopeful, I slide my fingers through hers and give her hand a squeeze.

195/629

“It’s true. I get a sadistic kick out of tormenting my patients, but you’ll be happy to know they all thank me in the end.” Not wanting to ruin the moment by saying something stupid about how good it feels to have her hand in mine, I pretend like it’s totally natural to be sitting next to her on the couch holding hands and I launch into the explanation of how my knee got fucked up. As I’m winding down a few minutes later, I realize how good it feels to talk about this with someone. I knew that repairing the damage between Olivia and I meant I’d have to tell her everything. Even though I haven’t gotten to the heart of the reason why I left her, I’ve told her more than I ever thought I would. I’ve brought her into the part of my

196/629

world that I’d kept locked away and it feels good. “I’m telling you, adrenaline should be bottled and sold on street corners. I was so fucking high that I didn’t even feel the bullet go in. It wasn’t until Hoss put a hand on my shoulder and I realized the house was completely silent that it hit me. The bullet most likely slammed into my knee as soon as we entered, but I didn’t feel a thing until we were finished. I owe Hoss big time. That country bumpkin bastard tossed me over his shoulder and hauled my ass through the woods for two miles to the HELO that was waiting to take us to safety.” I laugh thinking about that HELO ride. I was in and out of consciousness, but I remember a few things before they shot me full

197/629

of morphine. I recall Hoss calling me a pussy and telling me it was just a flesh wound, even though I knew from the pain that my knee was most likely a mangled mess of blood, flesh and bone. I also remember Hoss asking one of the medical corpsman if he had any beer mixed in with the cooler of blood bags because “it’s been a rough fucking day and I could use a brewski”. “What about the other two guys? Did they make it out okay?” Olivia asks. I nod my head with a smile on my face. “Yep, Lucky got Zeus to the extraction point in record time and the bullet Zeus took to the shoulder was through and through, so the doctors were able to fix him up pretty quick. Thank God Lucky had the sense to radio for a second HELO as soon as theirs took off.”

198/629

We sit next to each other on the couch, still holding hands, staring silently at the brace on my knee. I know that things could have gone to complete shit in the Dominican if it hadn’t been for the competence of my team. I am so fucking grateful for the opportunity to be sitting here next to Olivia, breathing the same air as her. Fuck, the fact I’m still topside is a miracle in itself. I am NOT going to fuck it up this time. “It killed me to leave you,” I whisper, keeping my gaze locked on my knee. I can’t look at her for this next part. My reasons for leaving seem like complete and utter bullshit when I look at her face and see what my abandonment did to her. “So why did you?” she whispers back.

199/629

With a deep sigh, I close my eyes and go back to the beginning. Back to where it all started, where friendships were made and unbreakable bonds were formed. “If you can believe it, I was a scrawny little shit in high school. I’d shot up to six feet the summer before ninth grade but I was all of a buck twenty-five soaking wet. Combine that with my love of all things Star Wars and I was an easy target for the asshole bullies in the pretentious private school my parents made me attend,” I told her, thinking about all the times I’d been shoved against lockers and tripped in the hallways. “One day, right at the start of football season, these four douchebags from the lacrosse team were chasing me across the field. I don’t even remember why I was

200/629

running from them, I just remember busting onto the field right in the middle of the Varsity football practice. I realized after I got to the end zone that no one was chasing me anymore. When I stopped and turned around, I saw two guys in football gear beating the hell out of the assholes who’d been chasing me. When the lacrosse guys managed to get away, my saviors walked over and introduced themselves—Jared King and Chris Dragon, the only two freshmen on the Varsity football team because they were fucking beasts even at fifteen years old. I knew who they were; hell, everyone knew who they were, but we obviously didn’t run in the same circles and I assumed they didn’t even know my name. I actually put up my hands in front of my face like the pussy I was

201/629

because I just assumed they were coming over to kick my ass, too. I’ll never forget the first words Jared said to me.” I change the resonance of my voice to something deeper, attempting to mimic Jared’s low, monotone speak. “Jesus Christ, Forest Gump. I’ve never seen anyone run that fucking fast down a football field before. If you can catch a ball, eat a few cheeseburgers and bulk up a bit, we might have just found our new running back.” I laughed thinking about how shocked I was back then. I was seconds away from pissing my pants in fear and before I knew it, I’d been recruited for the football team, made two new friends and stopped getting the shit kicked out of me on a daily basis.

202/629

“Those guys worked with me every day, pushing my limits in the weight room and making me eat more food in one sitting than I’d ever eaten in my life. By the end of that first season, I’d gained twenty pounds of muscle and our football team was undefeated.” I feel Olivia squeeze my hand and it gives me the courage to keep going. “They saved me when I was fifteen years old. They helped me figure out what I wanted to do with my life and they turned me into the man I became. Their families became my families when my parents were too busy working or taking trips around the world with my sister, leaving me alone for almost every major holiday. Caroline became the kid sister they never had and they helped

203/629

me threaten every dude who came sniffing around her. I was Jared’s best man when he married his high school sweetheart and I was Chris’s wingman every time he found a new flavor of the week to bang,” I say with a laugh. “They were my best friends, my family and the only two people in my life who I would do anything for.” I pause and finally take a chance at looking up at her face. “Until I met you.” I let that statement sink in before I go on. “You have no idea how much I struggled with the decision to leave. You need to understand that it wasn’t a choice between you and my best friends. Even if it were, I would always choose you, Olivia. But I owed them my life. I promised to have their backs and I

204/629

fucked that promise right up when I let them die in the Dominican. They were always so fucking strong and together, the three of us were unstoppable. I thought they were indestructible and I was so focused on keeping my own ass safe that I left them alone. I should have stuck by them. I should have known…” Her hand is squeezing mine in a death grip at this point and I focus on that instead of the unmanly fucking tears that are pooling in my eyes. “Do you know what it’s like to hold a man’s wife who’s six months pregnant while she grieves for a husband who will never meet his child, knowing the entire time that it’s your fault? It’s your fault he’ll never teach that kid how to play catch, never perch him up on the bathroom sink and show him how

205/629

to shave or tell him stories about his time as a Navy SEAL.” I hear Olivia sniffle next to me and I know she’s crying. I want to pull her into my arms and take the comfort I know she’ll give me, but I can’t. If I do that I know I’ll break down. An apology is the best I can do. “Jesus, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you any of this before. I should have made you understand that it was never a choice. It was something I had to do or I would never be able to forgive myself. I would never be the man you needed if I was carrying around this guilt and anger for the rest of my life.” I see her head lean down out of my peripheral and I know she’s trying to get me to look at her.

206/629

“Did you think I wouldn’t understand? Do you think I’m so awful a person that I wouldn’t get what you needed to do?” My head whips up and I stare at her with wide eyes. “Fuck, no! It was nothing like that. Olivia, you were the best thing that ever happened to me. You kept the nightmares away, you loved me when I didn’t deserve it and you made me whole again. You gave me a reason to get up in the morning. Jesus, the first time I saw you standing there in Parker and Garrett’s kitchen tapping your foot with an attitude, I forgot every single bad thing in my life. You gave me everything and I just didn’t want you to see that side of me. I didn’t want you to know that I was the type of man who could let down the two most important people in his life.”

207/629

“Stop it, right now,” she scolds, letting go of my hands and placing her palms on either side of my face. “You are the strongest, most honorable man I have ever met. You put your life on the line for people you don’t even know every time you go on a mission. These men, these best friends of yours, you don’t think they knew exactly what they signed up for when they became SEALs? You told me yourself that every time you go, you have to shut down and come to terms with the fact that you might not come home. They knew the chances they were taking. I don’t believe for one minute that these men would blame you for the things that happened on that mission. They were highly trained; the best of the best. What happened wasn’t your fault

208/629

any more than it’s their fault you practically got your knee blown off.” I close my eyes and let her words sink in. I’m not sure I believe them, but the conviction in her voice goes a long way towards helping me heal. “I’m so sorry you lost them,” she says softly. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me about them before now. I wish I could have known them.” I open my eyes and smile at her. “They would have loved you. Jared would have forced you to look at eight thousand wedding pictures and Chris would have told you you have a great ass.” We both laugh and, for once, it feels nice to remember the good times with my friends

209/629

instead of the horror of the day they were taken from me. Her hands drop from my face and I instantly want to beg her to put them back. When she touches me, I feel comfort deep down in my bones and I never want that feeling to end. “Thank you for telling me about them. It’s nice to finally understand why you had to go, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still angry about it.” I nod my head in agreement. I can give her all the explanations in the world, open up my heart to her in ways I never did before, but it doesn’t erase the fact that I left or take away the pain I caused her. “I had to make things right. I knew nothing I did would bring them back, but they

210/629

were everything good and right about my past,” I explain. “But I was your future,” she whispers softly. “And you should have trusted me enough to let me in.” I have nothing to say in response to that because she’s absolutely right. Maybe if I had opened up to her about Dragon and King when we met, we wouldn’t be where we are now, trying to pretend like things aren’t awkward and strained between us after my time away. Maybe I wouldn’t have left the way I did, breaking both our hearts in the process. Maybe just her voice over the phone could’ve battled the ghosts that haunted me in the Dominican and I wouldn’t have been so damn suicidal that I walked into an ambush that resulted in a knee that’ll be fucked up

211/629

for the rest of my life. Should have, would have, could have. It’s all bullshit and there’s nothing I can do to change it outside of making sure it never happens again. “So, how come you’re working for a temp agency? I can’t believe the hospital would let their best nurse go without a fight,” I state, wanting to know about her life now that my sharing time is over. Her face clouds over and, for a minute, I think she’s going to shut me down again and I want to take back my words. Then I think about the things I told her and I get a little pissed off. She can’t just expect me to pour my heart out to her without getting something in return. I know I fucked up and kept things from her, but there are obviously things she’s keeping from me, as well. I can

212/629

see it written all over her face. Thankfully, she speaks before I can put my foot in my mouth. “I don’t work for UC San Diego anymore. This temp job is the only one I could get and that’s just because Garrett pulled a few strings and threatened a few lives.” She tries to make light of her explanation with an awkward chuckle, but I’m not buying it. “What the fuck do you mean this is the only job you could get?” I ask angrily. “You ran the entire ICU floor and you were the best nurse they’d ever had in the history of that hospital. You even went to night school to get your PT license because it killed you to have to let your patients go when they were transferred. You wanted to follow them

213/629

through every step of their recovery. You were an amazing nurse. You ARE an amazing nurse.” She tries to pull her hand out of mine, but I won’t allow it. I hold on tighter and pull her closer to me, reaching up with my other hand and placing it on her chin, forcing her to look at me. “What the hell happened while I was gone?” I see her chest rising and falling rapidly and she swallows nervously. “A lot of things happened, Cole. When you left, everything went to shit. EVERYTHING. I know I’ve been a bitch, and I’m sorry for that. I needed to understand why you left and I know it probably seems like I’m being demanding and unreasonable,

214/629

wanting to know everything when there’s so much that I need to tell you, as well. I can’t help it. I’ve been angry for so long that I don’t know how NOT to be angry. I’m still trying to come to terms with you being here, with you being alive when I tried to pretend like you were dead from the moment you left. It was easier that way. It made the pain bearable. I could get up out of bed every morning and do what I needed to do because I refused to let myself hope that you’d walk through the door at any moment. You were gone. You were never coming back and I had to keep moving, keep breathing, keep living.” Her words cut through me like a rusty, jagged knife and I want to rub my knuckles against my chest to make the pain stop. I knew I hurt her when I left, but hearing the

215/629

extent of her pain makes it a thousand times worse. I need to hear this, though. I need to know how much damage I’ve done so I can figure out a way to fix it. And I WILL fix it, no matter what it takes. “I made some foolish mistakes at work and I paid for them with my job and almost my license,” she finishes with a nonchalant shrug. She’s lying. She’s making light of this and I don’t understand why. I could always tell when she was lying because she ran her tongue over her lips and refused to make eye contact. Why is she lying to me? Does it have something to do with my parents? They made it obvious they didn’t approve of Olivia, but I made it quite clear that their opinion didn’t mean jack shit to me. I made

216/629

my mother swear that Olivia’s job would never be affected by our relationship, and she grudgingly agreed when I threatened to cut her out of my life permanently. Did she go back on her promise? Did my being out of the picture make my mother think she could play God with Olivia’s life? The thought makes my blood boil and I feel so much rage rushing through me that my hands start to shake again. “Liv—” She cuts me off with a squeeze of her hand and look over into her eyes. “Just give me some time, okay? I need to wrap my head around all of this and I need to do it the right way. I don’t want to cause a rift in your family,” she says softly,

217/629

confirming my suspicions that my parents DID have something to do with Olivia’s career change. She lets go of my hand and stands up from the couch. “I want to start off by doing a few range of motion exercises so I can gauge what type of PT we want to start with.” Olivia busies herself digging through the duffle bag of supplies she brought with her. She pulls out something that looks like a giant protractor as well as a rolled up yoga mat. She unfolds the mat on the floor, patting it as she looks back over her shoulder at me. I pull myself up from the couch using my crutches and try not to let the anger I’m feeling show on my face as I make my way over to her. Olivia helps me get down on my back

218/629

on top of the mat before ripping off the four large pieces of Velcro holding my knee brace in place, explaining what she’s going to do to me as she removes the brace and sets it off to the side. I let the feel of her hands on my leg as she lifts it off the mat and bends it into different positions and the soft cadence of her voice calm my anger. I wanted to keep Olivia to myself for a while. I didn’t want anyone meddling or trying to ruin my attempts at forgiveness. Unfortunately, there’s no way out of the confrontation now. My mother has a lot to fucking answer for. I’ll give Olivia the time she needs to tell me what happened in her own way, but there is no way in hell I’m giving my mother that same luxury.

219/629

If she was the cause of any of Olivia’s problems while I was gone, I will never forgive her.

GROWING UP POOR, you never really realize as a child that you are poor. You live in a run-down apartment complex using bed sheets as curtains, you have to wait until the first of the month when the welfare check comes in to buy groceries and all of your clothes are permanently stained from the last eight children who owned them because you take what you can when you shop at

221/629

Goodwill. You’re surrounded by others who are in the exact same situation as you and it all just seems normal; like everyone lives this way and that makes it okay. It’s not until you start school, seeing the other kids in their fancy clothes and finding out their homes have actual front yards and pools and curtains made out of fine Italian fabric instead of threadbare Scooby-Doo, that you realize you’re different. You’re different in a way that makes everyone look down on you, makes them avoid you for fear that your pathetic way of living will rub off on them. I don’t know who my father was and, judging by the sheer volume of men my mother paraded through our tiny apartment, it could have been just about anyone in the greater DC area. My mother’s pale skin and

222/629

thin, light brown hair completely contrasted with my olive complexion and thick mane of black hair, proving that my father was most likely of Indian descent. Until I started school, I assumed everyone only had one parent and that it was perfectly normal to have a mother who slept all day and frequently forgot that she had a little person to take care of and feed. By age three, I’d learned to run a bath and clean myself, at four I taught myself to cook Ramen noodles and by the time I was five, I was an expert at cleaning up my mother’s vomit and helping her through withdrawals once a week when she couldn’t scrounge up enough money to get whatever fix she needed at the time. By the time I was in high school, I was a full-fledged adult who worked a part-time

223/629

job, paid all of the bills, forged my mother’s signature on school documents and skipped out on the handful of parties and proms I was invited to because I couldn’t leave my mother alone to choke on her own vomit or get the shit kicked out of her by her dealer when she couldn’t come up with the money she owed him. Given how I spent my formative years, one would think that I’d choose a profession as far away from the caretaking field as I could possibly get, but I realized quickly that I am good at taking care of people. The days I spent helping my mother take a bath or sitting up with her as DTs wracked her body or forcing her to get up and put food in her stomach instead of crushed pills up her nose or syringes in her veins were the days that I felt most proud of

224/629

myself and what I’d managed to accomplish. I like how helping someone get better and motivating them to work harder makes me feel. Taking care of my mother was like my own personal addiction. Every time she relapsed, instead of getting frustrated or sobbing at the unfairness of my situation, I became more motivated, thinking of new ways to get her to change her life around. Her sobriety lasted for a few days and then she’d immediately fall right back down the rabbit hole and I’d start all over again, thinking about what I could do differently the next time. It was a never-ending cycle and, even though I failed each and every time with her, I knew as soon as I filled out college applications that taking care of people is what I was meant to do.

225/629

Even my mother’s death during my senior year of high school didn’t stop my forward momentum. I’d finally run out of ideas and she’d finally stopped giving a shit about herself. I was never under any kind of illusion that she cared about me. I was just another body who shared her living space and pissed her off when I dragged her out of her sweat and puke stained sheets. I wasn’t even surprised when I came home that day in January to find her sprawled in the middle of the living room, her lips blue, her skin cold to the touch and the empty syringe still stuck in her arm. What surprised me was the fact that it hadn’t happened sooner. Every single day of my life, I walked through that front door prepared for the inevitable. Once again, I didn’t break down and cry for the mother I’d

226/629

never had; I called an ambulance, got to work cleaning up the urine and feces left behind on the living room carpet and said a prayer of gratitude that my mother waited until I was eighteen to take that final, deadly hit of heroin. There would be no foster care or shitty group home for me, thank God. I was an adult who’d been taking care of myself my entire life, so her absence didn’t even make a dent in my daily routine. With no one to take care of, the loss of my mother did leave me with way too much time on my hands, though. My life’s purpose was gone and those final months of high school loomed in front of me like a death sentence. When my guidance counselor pulled me into her office the Monday after her death to offer her sympathy and comfort

227/629

over my loss, I cut her off and asked her if I could graduate early. I had enough credits, I had the grades and there was a full nursing scholarship waiting for me, all I lacked was her permission to take my finals six months early. I was ready to leave that shitty apartment and all of its memories behind. I wanted to go to college and get started on my nursing degree sooner rather than later. My counselor looked over my transcripts and gave her permission. Within a month, I’d managed to pack up my meager belongings, secure housing on campus along with a part-time waitressing job closer to school and sublet our apartment to a single mother with a five-year-old daughter. When I saw the track marks on the woman’s arms and the unfocused look in her eyes and as I

228/629

handed over the keys, I looked at that child and hoped she wouldn’t burn her little hands the first time she had to make her own pot of Ramen noodles. I’ve taken care of people for twenty-seven years. It’s what I know; it’s in my blood. Having my nursing license almost taken away from me was like someone cut off one of my limbs. I don’t know how to do anything else. I don’t WANT to do anything else. Even though I was initially adamant in my refusal to work with Cole, I knew I would do it. No matter how much pent up anger and sadness I had inside of me, I would never turn down the opportunity to help someone. Taking care of someone you love is a hell of a lot different than taking care of a stranger. You want what’s best for all of your patients,

229/629

but when your heart is involved, it turns into an obsession. It happened when I took care of Parker a few years ago and it’s happening now with Cole. Working in the ICU, you see plenty of people come in who never regain that spark of life. No matter what you do, no matter what miracles modern medicine can provide, they just didn’t have the will to go on. It hurts and there are moments you feel like you failed them, but there’s always someone new coming in to switch your focus to. The ICU is a revolving door of people afflicted with every malady you can think of. These people come and go and you move on to try and do something different, better and more effective for the next person. With someone you love, that’s not an option. They are a part of your life, your heart

230/629

and your soul. If they don’t make it, if they don’t thrive with the help you give them, you yourself might as well die. It never really bothered me that I didn’t have a family of my own. How can you miss something you never had? How can you dream about something, crave something you know nothing about? I put myself through nursing school, I got a good job, bought my own home, dated men who I never even considered settling down with… and then I met Cole. I packed up my life once again and left DC for good to be with him. He was everything I never knew I wanted. He represented stability and comfort and, for once in my life, I had someone taking care of me. We built a life together, we made plans for the future and I pictured myself being

231/629

welcomed into his family. I dreamed about having a mother figure who would fuss over me, go shopping with me and give me the love I never had from my own mother. I thought about having a father for the first time in my life, someone who would be firm yet kind and dole out advice. Even after meeting his parents and realizing my childish dreams would never come to light, I still felt complete because I had Cole. He filled an empty space inside me that no parental substitute could ever match. Cole was everything to me and, as long as it didn’t bother him that his family didn’t welcome me with open arms, I wasn’t going to let it affect me. Even now, after I finally understand why he left, there’s still a giant, gaping hole in my heart that not even the truth can fill.

232/629

As I sit here under the covers with Cole’s medical records on my lap, I realize that I might not be able to save him and that scares the shit out of me. Not only does he have a shattered knee that he may never be able to fully use again no matter what kind of physical therapy I torture him with, his mind and his memories are filled with nightmares and horrors that I’m not sure anyone can heal. Despite the lies I told myself while he was gone, I know I never stopped loving him. He’s owned my whole heart from the first moment I saw him and when he left, he took it with him. Coming back to me and finally sharing those missing pieces of his life was like giving me back a piece of myself. I never thought loving Cole would be dangerous. How could something that came so easily

233/629

and so naturally hurt so much? I’m finding it hard to stay angry with him now that I understand exactly why he went on that mission, but his leaving was the catalyst for everything that went wrong in my life. I can’t hold him completely responsible for what I suffered when so much of it was my own doing, but I know it wouldn’t have happened had he been with me. If he’d just explained things to me beforehand instead of walking away, I would have had something to hold on to, something to keep me strong when Vivien tried to tear it all away from me. Leaving me alone and vulnerable created the perfect opening for Vivien to swoop in and sink her claws into my life. In the end, loving Cole brought me nothing but pain, but how the hell do I keep my heart closed off from

234/629

him now? The walls I so carefully built started crumbling the moment I heard his voice again. The sound of my name on his lips put the first crack in my armor and every second I’ve spent with him since has made it spread. Six weeks of physical therapy and what, I’m supposed to just walk away when it’s done? It would be fitting payback considering that’s exactly what he did to me, but that’s not who I am. I’m not a vindictive, mean person. I can tell he wants me back, wants our life back exactly the way it was, but he doesn’t understand that won’t ever be possible. I am not the woman he left a year ago; life has broken me beyond repair. I suspect he’ll change his tune about wanting to pick up where we left off once I tell him what happened while he was gone. Maybe that’s

235/629

exactly how it needs to be. If I tell him, he’ll walk away on his own and I won’t have to. After everything he’s been through, a part of me doesn’t want to burden him with my secrets. How much can one man take before he finally breaks? I know I need to tell him about his mother. I know I need to tell him about the baby. Listening to him tell me about Jared and how much it killed him, knowing that his friend would never experience anything with his unborn baby, I know Cole will be devastated learning about his own child. He’ll hate his parents, he’ll hate me and all of that love and trust I see shining in his eyes when he looks at me will disappear. Cole wants answers. He deserves answers after sharing so much of himself with

236/629

me. He’s a proud man and I know it’s killing him to rely on crutches and other people to get around. Even if I don’t have the power to heal his knee, I can do everything I can, use everything I’ve learned to make him realize that he’s still the same strong, amazing man I’ve always known. I’ll prove to him that walking with a limp doesn’t make him less of a man. I’ll build him up as high as I can and hope that what I have to tell him doesn’t make him crumble. The truth shall set you free, right? Unfortunately, my truth, when it’s finally revealed, will do nothing but lock me away in a prison of my own making.

“DID YOU JUST growl at me? Don’t make me put you back on the treadmill for another game of catch.” I half glare, half smile over at Olivia as she puts her hands on her hips and taps her foot. She’s so fucking cute standing there, cracking the whip over me that it’s impossible for me to be angry. She’s wearing my favorite pale blue scrubs with her hair

238/629

back in its usual ponytail and all I can think about is pulling that rubber band out and watching her hair spill around her face. She wasn’t kidding when she told me that she got a sick thrill out of torturing her patients. She smiled sweetly at me as I shouted and cursed my way through a session on the treadmill, tossing a medicine ball at me so I couldn’t use the handrails. Now, she’s got me seated on a stool with wheels, making me push and pull myself all around the room using only the muscles in my legs. I have sweat dripping down my face and back and it feels like someone is stabbing my knee with a Goddamn knife. Thinking back to what I went through during BUD/S SEAL Training, I feel like the biggest pussy in the world that this piddly

239/629

shit is close to breaking me. During ‘Hell Week,’ the third week of basic conditioning in BUD/S, the largest number of trainees drop out. It consists of 5 ½ days of cold, wet, brutal training on fewer than four hours of sleep. Running, swimming, paddling, carrying boats on your head, sit-ups, push-ups, rolling in the sand and slogging through mud leaves you soaking wet and chilled to the bone. Constantly covered in itchy fucking sand that chafes your skin raw, the ocean wind cuts through you while the saltwater burns every tiny cut on your body. I made it through that week without a whimper or complaint. One hour with Olivia in the gym and I want to cry like a fucking baby. She’s got me doing my therapy in the gym located in her housing complex. When we lived

240/629

together, I worked out in this room every day and then I went home to her. I’m trying not to think about how I’ll be leaving here when we’re done and going back to the guesthouse alone, instead of walking two blocks to the house we shared. “You’re doing great,” Olivia encourages me as I grunt with the effort of pulling myself towards her. “I had a guy who had a hip replacement quit after fifteen minutes.” I pause, looking up at her. “Hip replacement? What was he, like eighty?” “Seventy-four, but still. You’re doing much better than him.” She gives me a cheeky smile and I keep my growl in check this time. Wonderful. I’m doing better than fakehip-grandpa.

241/629

Instead of thinking about how out of shape I am, I focus on my family, using the anger I feel towards them to motivate me. When Olivia left the other day, I immediately got in my car and headed over to the main house. As my shitty luck would have it, my mother was out of town visiting my father at some fancy golf resort. Conveniently, all of my calls, voicemails and texts have gone unanswered. I’ve only seen my father once since I’ve been back and it wasn’t the happiest of reunions, so I’m not exactly rushing to give him a call. I was a little shocked to find out he’d retired from his position as Chief of Staff for UC San Diego Health System while I’d been away. I thought for sure my father would be one of those men who continued working until someone found him slumped

242/629

over his desk from a heart attack. My father is most definitely not a quitter and his retirement at such a young age stinks of something foul. My mother, of course, brushed off my concerns, saying he was overworked and ready to relax and enjoy his family and the next phase of his life. Bullshit. My father had fifty-plus years to enjoy his family and he never once took the opportunity. What the hell would make him do so now, when Caroline and I are both adults and have our own lives? Trying to maintain a relationship with my father has always been strange and difficult. He left the child-rearing to my mother and the nannies she hired to keep us out of her hair and his standard reply our questions was always “Go ask your

243/629

mother.” He never seemed to care one way or another what happened with Caroline and I, constantly adopting my mother’s opinions about what we should do with our lives. He always seemed inaccessible, sequestered away in his study when he was at home, sitting behind a huge oak desk that made approaching him nerve racking. Every once in a while, I’d catch him staring at me with a softness in his eyes that confused me, but as soon as I opened my mouth to try and have a personal conversation with him, he’d turn and walk away. It was almost like he was afraid to show any sort of weakness where his children were concerned, me in particular. I assumed it had something to do with the fact that I never conformed to the lifestyle he wanted me to lead, entering the

244/629

military right out of high school instead of taking on his legacy of running UC San Diego’s medical center. Every so often, Caroline was able to get him to let down his walls. I used to wonder if he was closer to her because she was adopted and he felt like he owed her something more, but I was never jealous of the relationship he shared with Caroline. I was happy that she had someone on her side since my mother seemed to be opposed to everything she said and did. I’m curious about why my father left town as soon as I got back. Is he still pissed about the choices I made? Or does he have information about what happened with Olivia that my mother doesn’t want me to know? It’s absurd to think my mother would

245/629

be able to control anything my father did, but I’ve seen her in action. I’ve witnessed her cutting him off mid-sentence and redirecting his words so they matched hers. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Cole?” My body jerks at the sound of Olivia’s soft voice. I continue pushing my feet across the carpet, voicing my thoughts out loud to take my mind off of the pain in my knee. “Just thinking about my fucked up family. You know, we used to do these asinine Sunday dinners every weekend when my parents were in town. They were these stuffy, boring affairs where Caroline’s main goal was to make my mother scream in frustration and mine was to stay as quiet as possible so she wouldn’t tell me for the hundredth

246/629

time that I was pissing my life away by joining the Navy.” Olivia remains silent, sitting down on the edge of a weight bench while I continue moving in circles around the room. “The day before I left for basic training, my dad told me that it took a really strong man to leave everything behind and go off to make his own future. It was the closest thing to a compliment he’d ever given me. My mother shot him a dirty look and made some snarky comment about his legacy at the hospital and my dad immediately changed his tune, telling me I was throwing everything away for a career that would never pay off. That’s how it always was between them. It’s like my dad wasn’t allowed to have his own opinions. I always thought my dad was the

247/629

one who made all the decisions, but really, it was my mother. She can’t handle not being in charge of everything, not knowing every single detail about everyone and using it to her advantage.” I stop moving and glance over at Olivia. She’s got her hands clasped in her lap, squeezing them so tightly that I wonder if she’s going to cut off her circulation. “This is where you tell me that my parents only did what they thought was best for me because they love me,” I tell her with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure you’ll never hear those words out of my mouth. Aside from the fact that your parents never liked me, I didn’t really have the best parental role model

248/629

growing up, so I don’t see much truth in that statement.” Shit. I’m such an asshole. “Fuck, Liv. I’m sorry. I have no right to complain about anything.” I knew all about Olivia’s mother and how she’d been forced to grow up long before she was ready. At least I had parents, as fucked up as they were. Olivia had no one. She unclasps her hands and rubs her palms across the top of her thighs, giving me a shrug. “Cole, it’s fine. My only regret is that I never got to experience what it was like to have a real family. It’s not your fault that your parents couldn’t accept me.” “It is my fault. I should have pushed harder. Made them understand. Made them see what I did—that you’re worth more than

249/629

all of us combined. At the first sign of their disapproval, I walked away and gave up trying because it was easier than fighting with them. I spent all my life fighting for things I wanted and it was exhausting. I didn’t care what they thought and I still don’t, but I should have fought harder for you. You were always worth the fight, Liv.” She gives me a sad smile. “So were you,” she whispers so softly that I almost didn’t hear it. “You don’t have to fight for me. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” The distrust I see in her eyes guts me. I made that promise to her once before and I blew it. “That might change when your parents find out I’m helping you. Your mom… let’s

250/629

just say she’s very protective of you. There’s no way she’s going to let me stick around and finish the job.” A flash of anger washes over her face when she mentions my mother and it solidifies my theory that she was responsible for Olivia losing her job at the hospital. “She got you fired, didn’t she?” Olivia doesn’t reply, but the look her face is answer enough. Her jaw clenches and she looks away from me quickly. “I made some mistakes, I already told you that,” she tells me in a monotone voice. “Bullshit! You don’t make mistakes, Olivia, especially when it comes to your job. I told her to look out for you. The day I left, I made her promise me she’d keep an eye on you. I knew she didn’t like you, but I thought

251/629

she could put that pettiness aside for once and act like a normal fucking parent. What the hell did she do? How did she manage to get the best nurse with the cleanest fucking record in that entire hospital fired?” For a minute I don’t think she’s going to answer me, but I can tell by her body language and facial expression that talking about this is pissing her off. Good. The more pissed she is, the more likely she’ll be to tell me the truth. “According to the official termination paperwork, I was stealing meds from the automated med dispenser using someone else’s code. Within a half-hour of the initial allegation, I was being escorted out of the hospital by two security guards and the head of Human Resources.”

252/629

Son of a bitch! Of all the things I expected to come out of her mouth, this wasn’t it. This is my fault. I left her alone to fend for herself, knowing full well that my mother would use the situation to her advantage given half a chance. I was such a dumb fuck for thinking she would do the right thing. I breathe deeply and clench my fists, trying unsuccessfully to control the shame threatening to choke me. I walked away from my woman and left her to be picked apart by fucking vultures. “Wipe that guilty look off of your face right now, Cole. It’s finished. It’s in the past and being pissed about it now isn’t going to solve anything,” she tells me firmly. “I shouldn’t have left. FUCK! I should have known what they were capable of. I

253/629

never thought they would stoop to something so low, I swear to God, Olivia,” I plead. “I know that,” she tells me softly, running her hands up and down my thighs, trying to comfort me. I should be the one comforting her. It’s my fault that her life became one giant ball of suck after I left. “Jesus, when I think about how many times I told my mother what that job meant to you, it makes me sick. I never thought she would use it against you. You’re going to get that job back, Liv. If I have to threaten everything my parents own, it’s going to happen. You are going back to the job you love; the one you were meant to do.” She shakes her head at me in disagreement. “I can’t go back there, Cole, even if I

254/629

wanted to. It just… it doesn’t hold good memories anymore. Even if, by some miracle, they asked me to come back, I wouldn’t go. I’ve moved on. I like what I’m doing now.” I don’t care what she says, I’m going to make this right. I’m sickened by the thought that my parents are capable of something like this. Even though we never really saw eye-to-eye, they’re still my parents. This bullshit is like something out of a fucking spy novel. Secrets, conspiracies, sabotage, blah, blah, blah. My family is not some Lifetime movie of the week. We have our issues, just like every other family, but this goes far beyond that. I never thought my parents would resort to ruining Olivia’s career, but clearly I was wrong. I’m already anticipating exactly

255/629

how my confrontation with my mother will go. She’ll deny any wrongdoing and turn it around on Olivia, because God forbid she’s ever to blame for something. I take a few deep breaths, forcing myself to calm down. By some miracle, Olivia can still stand to be in my presence after what my family’s done to her and, regardless of the guilt I feel over their actions, I’m not about to squander that gift. She’s hell bent on getting me up and walking around and maybe, if I’m lucky, she’ll let me back into her life. No matter what happened during the year I was away, I will always side with Olivia. My parents have demonstrated time and time again that they never had my back. The people who raised me were always more concerned with their precious family name

256/629

than my happiness. Olivia proved from day one that she was nothing like them and maybe that’s why I was initially drawn to her. She represented everything my parents weren’t: honest, caring and selfless. I need her in my life. I need her good to balance their evil. No matter what half-truths my mother tries to spin, I will always choose Olivia. Always. Nothing she could have done will change that. “I’d be lying if I told you that I don’t want you to stick up for me, to try and right the wrongs, but I’m a big girl, Cole. I don’t need you to fight my battles, especially with your family. Telling you what happened is probably a little selfish, but I wanted you to hear it from me first, before you heard it elsewhere. There’s more to—”

257/629

The alarm on Olivia’s cell phone goes off, the loud beeping cutting her off mid sentence. Part of me is grateful for the interruption because I don’t know how much more bad fucking news I can handle right now, especially if it has to do with my mother. “Alright, I think it’s time to move out to the pool,” Olivia states, silencing the alarm. “Please tell me you brought that red bikini from Victoria’s Secret,” I say with a sigh as I close my eyes and picture her wearing the two miniscule pieces of material that barely contained her tits and showed just enough ass to tease me. Thinking about her caramel-colored skin against the bright red bikini pushes all of the murderous thoughts from my mind.

258/629

She laughs and shakes her head at me. “Sorry, tough guy. YOU’RE going in the pool, not me.” I frown as she stands, pulling me up from the stool before handing me my crutches. A few minutes later, she’s sitting on the edge of the inground pool, watching me as I float on my back at the deep end. She’s got her scrub pants rolled up to her knees and she’s lazily kicking her feet through the water, leaning back on her hands. Rolling over to my stomach, I make my way over to her, using my arms to cut through the water. “Hey, you aren’t finished yet. You have another fifteen minutes of treading water,” she admonishes as I push my body between her legs and rest my hands on the cement next to her hips.

259/629

The smooth skin of her legs brushes against my sides and, when she doesn’t move away, I lean in closer and move my hands up to her hips. “As my physical therapist, you should definitely be in this water with me, making sure I don’t do anything wrong,” I tell her with a smirk, running my thumbs back and forth over her hip bones. I don’t even think she realizes that she’s sliding her legs back and forth against my ribs. Touching me was always a natural reaction when I was this close to her, and I’m bolstered by the fact that this still holds true. “You’re doing just fine on your own,” she tells me with a smile. “And besides, I didn’t bring my suit.”

260/629

I distract her by sliding my hands around her hips to cup her ass. Her breath hitches and I return her smile. “Who needs a suit?” I yank her towards me as hard as I can, her arms immediately wrapping around my shoulders. I cut off her shrieks of protest with a quick kiss to her lips before I push off the bottom with my good leg, pulling her off the edge of the pool and under the water with me.

MY HEAD GOES under the water midscream and I’m too shocked by the sudden chill of the water seeping through my clothes to give much thought to the feel of Cole’s lips against mine. Shoving my hands against his bare chest, I push out of his grasp and come up for air a few feet away from him, sputtering and coughing as I try to maintain a stern look even though all I want to do is laugh.

262/629

Cole’s head breaks through the surface and he treads water, giving me that signature smirk that screams he’s up to no good. I’m not about to tell him that I needed cooling off and the sudden dunk in the pool was the only thing that stopped me from wrapping my legs around him and pulling him closer. God, it felt so good having him touch me. His hands on my hips and ass made me forget about that moment back in the gym when I came clean about why I was fired. Listening to his theories about his parents pissed me off so badly that I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut any more. He’s still operating under the false impression that everything they did for him was out of love. Given their actions during the last year, I suspect the bulk of what they did was for cruelty, spite

263/629

and their own personal gain. Telling him about what happened in the hospital will probably come back to bite me when Vivien finds out. She doesn’t realize that I’m not afraid of her anymore. She took everything from me. There’s nothing she can do to me that she hasn’t already done. “You are in big, BIG trouble, Mr. Vargas,” I threaten as he continues to grin at me. He stands up and I try not to stare openmouthed at the water dripping down his muscular chest. I’m suddenly filled with the need to lick every single drop off of him and, to quell that desire, I shove my hands through the water as hard as I can, splashing his face. He laughs, wiping the water out of his eyes before diving beneath the surface. He

264/629

moves so quickly that I don’t even bother trying to move out of his reach. He’s a Navy SEAL and, even with a bad knee, he’s still a much faster swimmer than I’ll ever be. I scream as he wraps his arms around my waist, lifts me up and tosses me a few feet away like I weigh nothing more than a bag of cotton. When I surface, he’s still laughing. “You know, if those wet clothes are getting too cumbersome, you could always take them off,” he suggests with a wag of his eyebrows. “Nice try,” I reply, pulling the wet rubber band from my tangled hair before dunking my head backwards to smooth it out in the water. I watch as Cole backs up into the shallow end, stopping when the water is waist high.

265/629

He squats down a little and holds his arms out in front of him. “Alright, come on. I know you want to do it,” he teases. I laugh when I see the position he’s in and realize what he means. “No way! Uh-huh,” I tell him with a shake of my head. “Don’t lie, I know you’ve been thinking about this since we first got out here to the pool.” I cover my face with my hands in embarrassment and continue to shake my head. “Nobody puts the baby in a corner!” He shouts with a laugh. Removing my hands from my face, I see him standing in the same position, waiting for me to come at him. I used to force him to

266/629

do this every single time we swam in the pool when we lived here together. He would grumble and complain but he always did as I asked. “Oh, my God and now you just ruined it. It’s not THE baby, it’s Baby. That’s her name,” I giggle. “Who the fuck names their kid Baby? That’s like naming your dog, Dog.” I take a few steps towards him and put my hands on my hips. “Her real name is Frances Houseman. Were you not paying attention at ALL when we watched that movie?” Cole shudders and his mouth turns down in a grimace. “Jesus, no wonder she went by Baby.”

267/629

He claps his hands together twice and holds them back out towards me. “Now, come on, before I change my mind.” I know he won’t stop until I do it, so I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I move sluggishly through the deep water until I get into the shallow end and can move a little faster. As soon as I get close enough, I launch myself at him with a mixture of a laugh and a shout. His hands go to my hips and he easily lifts me up and over his head. I’m laughing so hard that I can barely hold my arms and my legs straight out in the signature Dirty Dancing lift. When I start to lean forward to dive behind him, he pulls me backwards, sliding me down the front of his body. My laughter dies as he wraps his arms around me, holding me close as we stand toe-to-toe

268/629

in the water, staring at each other wordlessly. He takes one hand off of my back and uses the tips of his fingers to slide a chunk of wet hair off of my cheek. I shiver even though the air is at least eighty-five degrees and the heated pool even warmer. “Jesus, I’ve missed you,” he whispers. I stare at his wet lips as he speaks, thinking only about how much I want him to kiss me again. That quick little peck before he pulled me into the water wasn’t enough. I’ve been empty and cold for so long without him. Logic and pain and all the good reasons for not falling back into old habits with Cole go right out the window as he lifts me up and holds me tightly against him.

269/629

My legs wrap around his waist and my arms curl around his shoulders as he moves us through the deep end until my back is pressed up against the side of the pool. One arm firmly around my waist, he slides his hand up to my cheek, rubbing his wet thumb back and forth under my eye. I close my eyes as he leans towards me slowly, holding my breath and waiting for that moment when his lips are against mine. As soon as they make contact, my body catches fire. His lips are warm, wet and full and my mouth immediately opens for him. I welcome his tongue into my mouth and he slides it gently against my own. Our mouths move slowly against one another, like we’re trying to memorize every single detail of the kiss. It’s a useless act though; I’ve never

270/629

forgotten anything about the way Cole kissed me. It’s burned into my brain and into my heart and, as he swirls his tongue against mine, it all comes rushing back to me: The way his kisses could heal me, the way his lips could erase every bad memory and fill my mind with nothing but him and his love for me. I don’t even realize I’m pushing the lower half of my body against him, needing more from him, until I hear him groan into my mouth and feel the hardness of his arousal between my legs. It’s too late to be embarrassed that he still has this affect on me. I’m drunk on the taste of his lips and high on the knowledge that I turn him on. I’m past the point of no return and I don’t even care. I need to feel him, I need to take him inside

271/629

my body and let him erase all of the bad and replace it with good. His hands quickly move to the hem of my scrub top under the water and I pull my lips away from his long enough to let him yank the wet, clinging material off of my body and over my head. He tosses it to the edge of the pool and it lands on the cement with a splat. His eyes immediately go to my black lace bra, completely transparent now that it’s wet. He cups both of my breasts in his hands, massaging them and rubbing his thumbs over my hard nipples. I throw my head back against the edge of the pool as he slides one of the lace cups away and latches his lips around my nipple, sucking and tugging it

272/629

into his mouth while his tongue circles around it. My hands fly to the back of his head and I hold him in place, my hips moving faster against him, sliding myself up and down his hard length through his swim trunks. I lift my head when he suddenly moves his mouth away from me, watching as he brings a handful of water up to my breast, tipping his hand so it trickles down over my nipple. I moan when he dips his head back down and licks up every single drop of water. “Fuck, I need you Olivia. I need you so much,” he murmurs against my breast before he gently tugs on my nipple with his teeth. I yank his head back up to me in response, crashing my lips to his. It doesn’t even cross my mind that we’re in a public

273/629

area, this pool the property of the housing complex I live in and any one of my neighbors could use their key to unlock the high, wooden privacy fence gate at any moment. Cole’s mouth on mine and his hips moving between my thighs makes me feel reckless. His tongue pushes deeper in my mouth, claiming more of me as his hands go to the waistband of my scrubs. I untangle my legs from around his hips so he can slide them down, never once breaking the kiss. My pants are now somewhere at the bottom of the pool, but I couldn’t care less. I wind my legs back around him, pressing myself against his erection as his hands cup my ass and he moves me up and down his length. The only sounds around us are the hum of

274/629

the pool filter and the water sloshing around our bodies. I try not to groan in frustration when he pulls his mouth away from mine, pausing the kiss. “I need to be inside you so much it hurts. Please, for the love of God, tell me you’re still on the pill,” he mutters against my lips. His words hit me like a bucket of ice water over my head. His hands are still kneading my ass and he doesn’t realize that whatever spell was cast over us the last few minutes has vanished in the blink of an eye. He leans forward to resume the kiss but I bring my fingers up between our mouths, pressing them against his lips to stop him. He looks at me in confusion, but still kisses my fingertips before pulling his head back.

275/629

“What’s wrong, Liv? Is this too fast? Just say the word and I’ll slow it down,” he whispers with conviction. How the hell do I tell him? How do I tell him that I’m not on birth control? I haven’t been on it in a year. There’s no reason for me to be on it anymore. Not only because I’m not sleeping with anyone, nor did I ever plan on it, but because I don’t need it. I’ll never need it again. “I’m sorry, Olivia, but there was just too much damage. I’m so sorry.” The doctor’s words scream through my head and it takes every bit of strength I have not to sob at the unfairness of it all. I untangle my legs from Cole’s waist and push myself away from him. There’s so much concern for me in his eyes and I can’t stand

276/629

to see it. I don’t deserve it. I worked myself too hard and I let depression get the best of me. It’s my fault he’ll never hold his son in his arms and it’s my fault we’ll never get the opportunity to try again. I thought I could let him take me away and make me forget, but the past will always come back to haunt you. I wanted more time to build up his strength and learn to trust him again, but that’s not in the cards. “I was pregnant,” I blurt out, closing my eyes so I don’t have to see the look on his face. “When you left, I was pregnant.” I don’t wait for his response. I take a deep breath and slide under the water, wishing it would swallow me up and take me away.

ALL SHE’S DONE is apologize since I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up out of the water, carrying her to the edge of the pool and pulling myself out before bundling her in a towel and taking her back to the house to dry off. My heart soared when I heard the word “pregnant” and immediately plummeted when she sunk under the water. The implication of the word was hit me like a

278/629

tree trunk to the chest. The fact that I’m standing in the middle of our old living room right now and there isn’t one thing lying around that indicates a baby lives here means that something happened. Something that broke her far worse than my leaving ever did. “I’m sorry,” she whispers again, holding a towel around her after having stripped out of her wet underwear. She managed to scrounge up an old tshirt and a pair of boxers that I didn’t take with me when I left because she used to sleep in them. I didn’t think to dig through her drawers when I packed up all of my shit and left her alone. I left her alone when she was pregnant. With my child. Pregnant and alone to deal

279/629

with that shit when I should have been there, holding her hand, kissing her stomach and promising her and my child the world. “Liv, it’s not your fault,” I whisper right back, crossing the room and pulling her into my arms. She struggles for a minute, trying to push me away, but fuck that. I hold on tighter, kiss the top of her head and whisper my own apologies in her ear. She sobs against my chest and it rips me in half. In the two years we were together, I’d never seen Olivia cry. Not once. She’d get a little teary-eyed when we watched a sad movie or when she talked about a patient who was slipping away, but she would always hold it together. She was a solid rock of strength, hardened by her childhood and

280/629

honed by her experiences as a nurse. I remember Garrett, Brady and Austin talking about how all their woman had to do was shed a few tears and they instantly turned to jelly, giving them anything they asked so long as they didn’t have to deal with the tears. I teased them about it, calling them the biggest bunch of pussies in the world. Looks like the tables have been turned. I know exactly what they meant now. I would give anything, ANYTHING to take this pain away from Olivia. “It’s my fault,” she whimpers against my chest. I can feel her tears soaking through my shirt as I rock us gently back and forth. She wraps both of her arms around my waist and clutches the back of my shirt in her hands.

281/629

I want to ask so many things. When did she find out? What happened? Did my leaving cause her to lose the baby? I want to ask, but I don’t. I’ve hurt her enough and I’m not going to press her for answers she’s not ready to give. I have no right to any of the pain she’s feeling because I left her to handle it all on her own. “I was barely eating, barely sleeping on top of throwing up every day. I didn’t take care of myself, I worked too hard… Oh, God, I just wanted you there so much. I didn’t want to do it on my own.” Her body is shaking with the force of her sobs and there’s nothing I can do. Nothing I can say will make this better. I can’t stand to listen to her take the blame for this. Whatever happened could never have been

282/629

her fault. We talked about having kids all the time. Our childhoods were fucked up in different ways, but it never swayed our decision on having a family of our own. We wanted to do everything different with our own kids. We vowed to make sure they knew they were loved every single day and we promised to support them no matter what kind of decisions they made. The first time she held Garrett and Parker’s daughter Annie, I watched her face light up with an excitement and wonder I’d never seen before. I could only imagine what it would be like to one day see her holding our own child. Reaching between us, I grab onto her face and pull it away from my chest. I stare into her eyes, overflowing with tears and

283/629

watch them drip down her cheeks and drop off of her chin. “You listen to me right now. It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault,” I tell her with every ounce of conviction inside me. “If you want to blame someone, blame ME. I’m the one who left you alone to deal with this. I’m the one who never gave a second thought to anything or anyone but my own need for revenge when I left. I love you so much, Olivia, you have no idea.” Her cries quiet as I lean down and kiss each tear off of her cheek before my lips make their way to hers and I press them against her softly. She unclenches her fists from the back of my shirt and flattens her palms, pressing them against my lower back and pulling me in closer. I can feel every inch

284/629

of her body through the towel and, as much as I don’t want to get a fucking hard-on right now, it’s impossible when I’m this close to her. I pull my mouth away from her and rest my forehead against hers, trying to calm my dick down. She needs comfort, not a horny asshole. “I’m so tired of being angry. I’m so tired of being alone and empty,” she whispers. “You’re not alone anymore. I will never, EVER leave you alone again.” She tilts her face up to me and searches my own face for the truth. I’m done hiding things from her. My past, my love, my future—it’s all hers, if she wants it. It will always be hers.

285/629

“You took everything from me when you left and then your family kicked me when I was down. I want to hate you so much, but I can’t. Why the hell can’t I hate you?” she cries angrily. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.” My words are ragged and my voice is thick with emotion. I continue repeating these useless fucking words of apology over and over until my voice finally cracks. She cuts me off as I swallow past the lump in my throat and try to continue. Her hands move away from my back, sliding around to grab onto the front of my shirt, yanking me against her and slamming her lips into mine. The kiss is nothing like the one we shared in the pool. It’s full of anger and regret, her mouth moving against mine forcefully,

286/629

almost painfully. I let her take what she wants. I feel her bite down on my lower lip so hard I’m sure she’s drawn blood and I welcome it. I welcome the pain and the resentment that screams through her body and into mine. She leans into me, forcing me to move backwards, never breaking the kiss or slowing down the frantic movement of her hands through my hair, down my face, over my chest and into the waistband of my boxers. As I hobble and limp backwards without the help of crutches or my brace, I forget all about the ache in my knee when her small hand wraps around my dick. I let out a groan as the backs of my legs hit the couch, her hand sliding up and down my length in a tight fist.

287/629

“Take it. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Whatever you need, it’s YOURS,” I mutter as her hand moves faster. “I just want to forget. For tonight, just make me forget,” she tells me softly before she takes her hand off of my dick and gently pushes against my chest until I flop down onto the couch. Everything about this is wrong and I know I should stop her. This is not at all how I imagined making love to her again and I’m sure she’ll hate herself and regret every minute of this tomorrow. The very last thing I need to do is give her even more reason to hate ME, but my good intentions fly right out of the window when she drops the towel from her body and straddles my lap. I want to take my time with her, to drink in the

288/629

sight of her gorgeous, naked body after so long without it. I want to slide my hands over every inch of her and revel in the feel of her smooth skin. Recalling the nights I spent alone, lying on the damp floor of a Dominican rainforest craving her taste, I want nothing more than to bury my face between her thighs and savor her. I try to slow her movements, but she’s not having any of that. She wants this to be about forgetting, plain and simple. I can’t change the past and I can’t make things right, but I can give her this. Her fingers slide into the elastic of my boxers and I lift my hips, helping her move them down and over my cock, which is standing at attention, ready for her to do whatever she wants. They don’t make it any further than mid-thigh before she notches

289/629

the head of my cock right at her opening, sinking down hard and fast until I’m buried so deep inside of her I’m pretty sure I’m seeing fucking stars. She’s so tight and hot around me that I curse my hand for being such a poor fucking imitation of her pussy over the last year as I jerked myself off thinking about her. I grab onto her hips, the half of me that wants to hold her in place so I don’t blow my damn load too soon battling the half that wants to bounce her up and down on top of me so hard we both pass out. Sensing my hesitation, Olivia takes the lead, moving somewhere in the middle, sliding up and down my cock and grinding her pelvis into mine on each down stroke.

290/629

Her nails dig into my shoulders and she throws her head back with a moan. Leaning forward, I press my lips against her throat, sucking and nipping at her skin while I thrust my hips up, slamming my cock into her, over and over. She slides her hands through my hair, fisting large chunks of it as her elbows dig into my chest. I gaze up at the beautiful woman riding me, moaning and whimpering each time she impales herself on me, writhing as her clit rubs against my skin on each down stroke. I want this to last for more than five minutes, but an entire year without sex coupled with the show Olivia’s putting on above me has my orgasm barreling through my body like a fucking freight train. My balls tighten and my cock gets impossibly hard as

291/629

I run baseball stats in my head, trying to slow this fucker down. Realizing I’m fighting a losing battle, I take one hand off of her hip and move my fingers between us, circling my thumb around her clit, determined to take her with me when I fall over the edge. She starts moving faster and moaning louder and I add more pressure with my thumb and thrust my hips harder, pushing as deep inside of her as I can get. I want to scream in frustration that this might be my one and only chance to have her and it’s going to be over before it’s even begun. I will never, ever get tired of the way Olivia sounds as her pussy clamps down on my cock, the way her skin flushes as she throws her head back, flinging that fucking

292/629

beautiful hair behind her. There’s no sight or sound more perfect in the world than this woman when she comes. She shouts my name as her body clenches around me, triggering my own release. I come so hard that I feel it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. She continues to grind on top of me, prolonging what’s already the longest orgasm I’ve ever had, until I collapse against the back of the couch. Her body moves with me, slumping against my chest with her cheek pressed against mine while we catch our breath. She shifts her hips and I wince as my dick pulses inside of her. When she starts to move away, I wrap my arms around her body to keep her exactly where she is, afraid to let her go. I’m not ready for awkward

293/629

apologies, eye avoidance and the inevitable walk of shame. Surprisingly, she doesn’t resist. She melts into me, her thighs loosening their death grip and her hands releasing their hold on my hair until they’re lazily sliding through it, over and over. I hope this worked. I hope fucking on our old couch chased away her nightmares, even if for just one night. I hope she knows I will chase away all of her demons, for the rest of her life, if only she’d let me.

THE SOUNDS OF waves crashing against the shore and seagulls flying overhead bring a smile to my face as I walk along the sand. The sun is setting just over the horizon and the tide comes in closer, washing over my feet. The water is warm and I walk further into the surf, pulling my skirt up to my thighs to keep it from getting wet as the waves splash against my knees. I stop

295/629

walking and glance up and down the beach, wondering why I’m the only one out here. Even though the sun is going down, there should still be people lying on towels, soaking up the last of the rays of the sun, daredevils out on surfboards trying to catch that perfect wave or teenagers lighting beach bonfires, enjoying their final days of freedom before school starts up again. As I scan the beach around me, I realize suddenly that I don’t hear anything at all anymore. The waves are silent as they crash around me and the sky is empty of seagulls crying for food. “Mommy!” My head turns quickly when I hear the shout and I have to steady myself so I don’t go under the water. My feet have sunk

296/629

deeper and deeper into the sand as I stood here and let the waves ebb and flow around my legs. I try moving them through the wet sand under the water and force myself not to panic when they won’t budge. The sight of a baby lying in the sand right at the water’s edge, wrapped in a blue blanket, halts my movements and calms my nerves even though I know he shouldn’t be out here alone. He shouldn’t be this close to the water. Where the hell are his parents? I scan the beach again and it’s still empty. By the time my eyes make it back to the little bundle, it’s no longer a baby I see, but a toddler. The blue blanket is draped over his shoulders and he’s shivering. I know him. I’ve seen him before, but I don’t know where or how. I know I’ve run

297/629

my fingers through his short black hair and I distinctly remember the silky texture of it floating through my fingers. I’ve stared into his beautiful blue eyes, so much like my own, making promises I knew I couldn’t keep. It’s him. How is this possible? He looks so different, but my heart would know him anywhere. “Mommy!” He cries out to me again, his arms raised towards me and my heart breaks in two. I’m overcome with the need to get to him as quickly as I can. If I can get to him, hold him in my arms, smell the clean scent of his skin, I know everything will be okay. “I’m coming, baby!” I yell back, motioning to him with my hands to stay where he is and not come into the water.

298/629

I twist my hips and the muscles in my thighs strain as I try to pull my feet out of the sand. Each wave that crashes around me brings the water up higher and higher until it’s at my waist, the sand still refusing to let go of my feet. “You can’t save me, Mommy.” The little boy speaks softly from the shore and I stare at him over my shoulder with tears streaming down my cheeks, no longer caring that the water is quickly inching its way up my body and will be over my head soon. He starts to back away from the water’s edge and my eyes widen in fear. “No! Stay where you are, please! I’m coming for you!” I yell.

299/629

The wind kicks up, forcing the waves to slam against me and whipping my hair around my face as I watch the boy move further and further away from me. “Please!” I scream, twisting and turning as hard as I can to try and break free from the ocean that refuses to let me go. “Please don’t leave me!” He’s not the baby I remember, but he’s still mine. He’s mine and I won’t lose him again. I’ve already lost so much time with him, I refuse to lose any more. I claw at my thighs trying to free my feet as I scream and curse at the water, trying not to take my eyes off of the little boy for one second even though he’s moved so far away that he’s just a blurry figure in the sand.

300/629

I cry out in rage and frustration, choking on mouthfuls of salt water as the waves crash against my chest. Bringing one hand out of the water, I try to pull my hair out of my eyes as the wind kicks up even more, obscuring my vision of the shore. A flash of red catches my eye and I stare at my hand, no longer dripping with salty ocean water, but with blood. The wind immediately dies and the water stops rising around me as I look down. I’m no longer standing in the ocean, but in the hallway of a hospital. Doctors and nurses rush around me like I’m not even there, calling codes and pushing crash carts into a room down the hall. I know I shouldn’t go in that room. I know I won’t like what I see in there, but I have to go. My feet move automatically, one in front of the

301/629

other until I’m standing right outside the door. I see medical personnel surrounding someone in the bed, shouting orders and passing equipment back and forth. They all back away from the bed and my vision clouds and vomit chokes me as I see myself lying there, my eyes closed, my body lifeless. Blood. There’s so much blood. It covers my lap, pools on the bed between my legs and drips down onto the floor beneath the ‘me’ on the bed. As a doctor moves towards the bed, carrying the defibrillator paddles to shock my heart, I notice the blood is gone. The blue hospital gown is spotless and the white sheets pushed down around my ankles don’t have a spot on them. I feel something drip down my legs and I tear my eyes away

302/629

from the scene in front of me and look down. My dress is covered in blood from the waist down and, before I can scream, I feel a hand press down on my shoulder. I look up and see Vivien and Cole standing next to me, staring into the hospital room at the flurry of activity. “It’s better this way,” Vivien murmurs. Cole nods his head in agreement. “It’s not your fault, Olivia. It’s not her fault, either.” He points towards his mother. I open my mouth to argue with him, to scream and cry and try to make him understand that it IS her fault. She did this. SHE took this away from me. I can’t make the words come out. My mouth is open, but I can’t make a sound.

303/629

“I did what I had to do. No one will ever blame me for that,” Vivien says with a smile. “You need to find the person with blood on their hands.” Someone in the room shouts, “CLEAR!” just as I bring my hands up in front of my face and see them dripping with blood. I scream as the doctor presses the paddles against my chest and I watch as my body bows and my back arches. I close my eyes and scream until my throat aches and the windows on either side of the room explode. “Baby, wake up!” I feel hands on my face and my eyes fly open, the scream dying in my throat. Cole is leaning over me, a look of worry on his face as he moves my hair out of my eyes. My

304/629

heart is beating erratically and my skin is sticky with sweat. I sit up quickly, trying to get my bearings, and the blanket that was draped over me drops to my lap. Looking down, I realize I’m still naked and yank the blanket back up to cover my breasts. “Are you okay?” Cole whispers, shifting on the edge of the couch to give me more room. Am I okay? Physically, I feel fine. My heart has stopped trying to burst out of my chest and I can finally breathe. My throat is scratchy and it hurts when I swallow, making me realize I was screaming out loud, not just in my dream, and my face heats in embarrassment. I haven’t had a dream like that in weeks, and I don’t think I’ve ever had one that was quite that real. I could taste the salt

305/629

of the ocean water and I could smell the raw iron in the earthy scent of the blood. So much blood. I rub my hand over my face, trying to block out all of the images that won’t go away, but at the same time, trying hard to remember something about that dream that was important. It tickles the edge of my memory, but I can’t force myself to remember no matter how hard I try. The only thing I can focus on is Cole witnessing my nightmare, getting a front row seat to how messed up my head is. His hands wrap around mine and he moves them away from my face, staring into my eyes. This is what I wanted, right? I wanted him to see everything. I wanted him to know what happened, even if it killed me

306/629

to come right out and tell him. I thought that sleeping with him would make me forget, but all it did was bring everything right to the forefront of my mind. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave when you fell asleep.” I look over at the chair next to the couch, a blanket tossed haphazardly on the floor in front of it, where Cole must have been sleeping before I woke him up with my screams. Looking back up at him, I slide my hand along his arm and squeeze his bicep. He’s so solid and real… and he stayed. I can’t believe he stayed after the way I practically attacked him, telling him I just wanted to have sex with him to forget, not because I actually wanted him and needed him.

307/629

“I just… I couldn’t leave you. After you fell asleep and I covered you up, I grabbed my crutches and I was halfway to the door. I know you probably don’t want me here, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m not leaving, Olivia. I don’t care if you hate me, I don’t care if you scream and throw things at me, I’m not leaving . You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not because I can’t just NOT be with you. I can’t be in the same room with you and not want to touch you, I can’t look at you and not want to be inside you. I will make this right again because I love you. I love you, Olivia.” I quickly move my hand up and press my fingers over his lips. The words are everything I longed to hear for a year, everything I thought I wanted, but I realize I don’t need them anymore. I just need Cole.

308/629

“Stop. You don’t have to make anything right again. It’s been right since the moment you came back to me,” I whisper. I can’t fight this anymore; there’s no point. He brought the nightmares back with him, but none of that matters because he’s the only one who can take them away. He sighs contentedly, kissing the tips of my fingers before moving my hand away. “Smart woman. You must have realized that even with a bum knee I can still be a stubborn ass. Really, there’s no use arguing with me. I’ll always win,” he tells me with a smirk. I shake my head and roll my eyes at him. “Now that that’s settled, how about you tell me about that dream you were having. You scared the shit out of me.”

309/629

I think about the water, the blood and the child and a chill comes over me. Cole rubs his hands up and down my arms and it soothes me. I know he won’t let this go. I woke up screaming like I was dying and I can’t just shrug it off as no big deal. “I know a thing or two about nightmares, Liv, believe me. Do you remember that night right before I left when you woke up and found me on the bathroom floor?” I nodded. How could I forget? It was the third night in a row I’d woken up and he wasn’t next to me in bed. He’d been restless in his sleep for over a week, tossing and turning and mumbling names I’d never heard before. He would be covered in sweat, breathing heavily, and, even in sleep, his voice was filled with so much pain that it stole the

310/629

breath from my lungs. The first night it happened, I wrapped my arms around him and spoke softly in his ear, telling him I loved him and that everything was okay. He’d never told me about the things he’d seen or done on missions and I let him keep it to himself. I couldn’t imagine how hard it was on him and I didn’t want to make it harder by questioning him, so I did what I could to soothe him without waking him up. “I was dreaming about Dragon and King. I’d been doing fine since the day I met you. Not one bad dream, not one awful memory. I slept like a fucking baby every single night I was next to you until my commander called and told me they knew who was responsible for killing them. I didn’t want to burden you

311/629

with my problems and I realize now how selfish that was of me.” Tucking the blanket under my arms to hold it in place, I grab both of his hands and pull them into my lap, holding on tightly and remaining silent. He needs to get this out and I’m not about to stop him. “It was always the same dream. They’re both standing in front of me one minute, laughing and joking about some stupid shit and then suddenly they’re both on the ground at my feet with matching bullet wounds between the eyes. In my dream, I get down on my knees between them and Dragon opens his eyes and tells me it’s all my fault.” “Oh, Cole,” I speak softly.

312/629

He shakes his head roughly like he’s trying to clear the vision from his mind. “I know it was just a dream. I know it wasn’t really my fault, I get that now. But Jesus Christ, that fucking dream haunted me every night until I thought I would lose my mind. I knew I was keeping you awake with my tossing and turning so it was just easier to get out of bed instead of trying to explain everything. That damn dream fucked me up, Liv. I thought it would go away once I took care of the man responsible for killing them. I pushed everything we had aside because I thought it was the only way to make the nightmares stop.” He looks up at me, reaching out and swiping a tear that I didn’t even realize had fallen off of my cheek.

313/629

“I’m not telling you this so you’ll feel bad about what happened or feel sorry for me. I just need you to know that you’re not alone. Never again, Liv. Whatever nightmares you’re having, you share those fuckers, do you hear me? I will take them from you and I will kick their sorry asses.” I can’t help but laugh and a smile lights up his face. He moves his body behind mine on the couch, wrapping his arms around me and pulling my back against his chest. I pull one of his hands away from my waist and slide my fingers through his, staring at our joined hands. “I was really scared the day I found out I was pregnant,” I start softly. Cole kisses the top of my head and I continue.

314/629

“I tried to find out where you were. I was pissed and upset that you left, but I wanted you to know. Garrett did everything he could to get the information from your commander, but the guy wouldn’t budge. After a few weeks, I finally told Garrett to stop trying. You left for a reason and, if you found out I was pregnant, I was afraid you might come home for the wrong ones. God, I was so sick. I didn’t have morning sickness, I had 24-7 sickness. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep and I just missed you so much. I threw myself into my work. I took on extra shifts, worked overtime. I did too much. The doctor told me to slow down, but I didn’t listen. I tried to pretend like it wasn’t real, that I wasn’t really pregnant and alone.”

315/629

Cole’s arms squeeze me tight and I let my head fall back against his chest. “I’m going to keep saying this over and over until you finally believe it. It wasn’t your fault.” I close my eyes and let the warmth of his body soothe me. “By the time I realized just how wonderful and amazing the blessing that I’d been given was, it was too late. The baby was gone before I ever got a chance to tell him how much I wanted him, how much I loved him.” Cole runs his hand down the top of my head before resting it on my shoulder, gently kneading the muscles. “The dream is always the same. He’s right there, just beyond my reach and I can’t

316/629

get to him. I can’t save him,” I mutter with a hitch in my voice. “That baby was saved the moment it was conceived because of YOU. Just because he’s not here anymore doesn’t mean he wasn’t the luckiest kid in the world because he had you for a mother, even for a just a little while.” He kisses the top of my head again and I wish I didn’t have to say anymore, but I do. There’s one last piece to my nightmare that no one will ever be able to heal, not even Cole, and I have to live with that for the rest of my life. “I can’t have any more children, Cole. That was my one shot and it’s gone. You deserve to be a father. You need to be with

317/629

someone who can give that to you, and it’s not me.” Cole moves his hand to my face and turns it so he can look at me. “Do you think any of that matters to me if you’re not there? Do you actually think I could find someone else and love her as much as I love you just because she could give me a child? Don’t you get it yet, Liv? YOU are all I need. We can adopt if that’s what you want. Shit, we can adopt fifty kids if it makes you happy.” I smile up at him. “Fifty?” “Okay, maybe not fifty. How about eleven? Then we’ll have our own football team,” he says with a laugh. “You’re insane,” I tell him with a shake of my head.

318/629

“No, YOU’RE insane for thinking something like this would push me away. I already told you, you can’t get rid of me that easily,” Cole reassures me. I turn my body to the side and rest my cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat thump against my ear. Cole scoots both of us down on the couch and rests his head against the armrest and I snuggle into him and close my eyes, feeling lighter and happier than I have in a long time. I was so afraid of telling him the truth, but I should have known better. We still have things to work out, but I don’t fear them as much as I did. I’m still afraid of how Cole’s going to react once he learns of his family’s role in our loss, and I wish I could convince him to let it go, but I know he won’t stop

319/629

until he finds out the truth. For right now, I’m going to spend every moment we have together showing him exactly how much he means to me. When the time comes and he finds out just how badly his family betrayed him, hopefully my love will be enough.

THE NEXT WEEK flies by and Cole’s knee is responding well to rehabilitation. He isn’t cursing at me nearly as much when I put him through the rigorous physical therapy exercises. He still swears, but at least it’s under his breath and not aimed right at me, so it’s an improvement. “I really can’t believe how well you’re doing. I’ve never seen anyone with this much

321/629

knee damage able to bounce back so quickly,” I tell him, holding his leg in my hand and helping him slowly bend and stretch it out as he lies on his back, going through the cool down exercises, “Too bad it will never fully heal. My career as a bad ass Navy SEAL is a thing of the past now,” he says with a laugh. His smile doesn’t make it to his eyes and I know it must be killing him to realize everything he worked so hard for all his life is finished. He’ll never go on another mission, he’ll never take out another bad guy and he’ll never work side by side with the men he calls brothers. I know he was semiretired those two years we were together, but at least he still had the option of going back to work.

322/629

“It’s hard when your choices are taken from you and you don’t get a say in the matter,” I tell him quietly as I set his leg down on the mat and start massaging his knee. “It really fucking sucks,” he agrees. I smile as I work my fingers softly into the scarred skin all around his knee. “Say it,” he tells me. My hands stop moving and I pull my head up to look at him. “We’re both feeling like less than we are because of circumstances out of our control. I can never be a SEAL again because of this damn knee and you…” I swallow thickly as his voice softens. “You can never have more children. Everything inside of me hurts just saying those words out loud because I know, more

323/629

than anything, that any child would be lucky to have you as a mom.” He sits up, holding my face in his hands and pressing a kiss to my lips. “It fucking sucks. Say it.” I sigh against his lips and whisper the words. “Nope. Not gonna work. You have to say it and mean it.” I can’t help but smile at him. I pull my head back and stare into his brown eyes. “It. Fucking. Sucks,” I say loudly, with conviction in my voice. A smile lights up his face and he nods his head, urging me to do it again. I throw my head back and scream the words as loud as I can and he shouts right along with me. We

324/629

end up shouting until we laugh so hard our sides hurt. “Alright, get back down on the ground, mister. I’m not finished with your massage,” I tell him after our laughter finally dies down. He rolls away from me and lies down on his stomach, tucking his hands under his chin while I get to work rubbing down the back of his leg. After a few quiet minutes, he breaks the silence. “Hey, do you remember that piece of land we found that day we were driving around? The one on the cliff overlooking the ocean?” My heart starts beating faster as I think about the spot he’s referring to. At one time, that half-acre of land represented hope and a

325/629

perfect future that I thought was right within my reach. “Um, yeah. I guess so,” I tell him nonchalantly, rolling my eyes at how stupid I sound. “Everything was so perfect that day. Not a cloud in the sky, driving along the coast with the windows down and then you saw that For Sale sign and your scream made my ears bleed,” he jokes with a laugh. Reaching up, I give him a nice, firm swat on the ass. “I did not scream that loud.” “Are you kidding me, dogs ten miles away started howling,” he chuckles. I remember every single thing about that day. I remember dragging him out of the car and making him walk every inch of the half-

326/629

acre property. I remember standing right on the edge of the cliff, looking out at the sun setting over the ocean and talking about how perfect it would be to build a house there, raise a family, wake up every morning with that view outside our living room window. “Someone bought it,” I tell him softly. He cranes his neck over his shoulder and looks at me. “What?” “I said, someone bought it. I drove by there a few weeks ago and they’ve already started building on it.” I don’t tell him how much it hurt to see someone else’s dreams coming true in the spot where I thought all mine would finally be realized. I parked my car in front of the temporary gravel driveway they put in, watched the construction workers frame the

327/629

house and cried harder than I had in a long time. “Huh.” That’s all Cole says before he turns around and puts his head back on the tops of his hands while I finish his massage. A little while later, I shake out my hands and let him know I’m done. He rolls over, grabbing my hands and yanking me down on top of his body. “I don’t think you’re quite finished yet,” he tells me with a smirk. I straddle his hips and rest my palms on his chest while he rubs his hands up and down the outside of my thighs. “Oh really? Is there something else that’s in need of a massage, Mr. Vargas?” I ask him with a cheeky grin.

328/629

He bucks his hips up against me and I let out a gasp when I feel how hard he is for me. “I’m definitely having some trouble with a very, very large muscle in my pants,” he tells me, trying unsuccessfully to be serious. My body shakes with laughter as I lean forward, pressing my hands into the mat on either side of his head. “You really need to work on these charming lines of yours.” His hands slide into the back of my scrub pants, cupping my ass and rocking the lower half of my body against his hardness until I moan. “You love my charm, admit it,” he tells me softly, leaning up to kiss me. I hear the hint of a southern twang in his voice and my body warms. Even though he grew up in California, his time in the military

329/629

was spent mostly in the South and he picked up a slight accent that comes out on occasion when he’s half asleep or trying to get into my pants. I forget about the house that isn’t ours, being built on the land where we dreamed about the future. I forget about everything but the man beneath me and everything he means to me. “I just love you, Cole. Everything about you.” His lips make their way across my cheek and down my neck as he inches my pants down. “Say it again,” he whispers against my neck. “I love you,” I whisper right back.

330/629

“Don’t ever stop,” he demands softly as I lift my hips and help him get my pants the rest of the way down. I shake my head and smile down at him. “Never.” He quickly rolls me over on the mat until he’s hovering over top of me, his brown eyes boring into me with all of the love and passion I’ve missed in the last year. He rolls his hips, every hard inch of him sliding against the lace of my underwear until I moan his name. “Your knee,” I mumble distractedly as he continues to push and slide between my legs. He leans down, resting more of his weight on top of me and I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him harder against me.

331/629

“My knee is fine. Don’t worry about my knee.” He kisses his way down my body, his tongue swirling around my lace-covered nipple before he continues on, licking and kissing the skin of my stomach and around my belly button until my hips arch up to meet his mouth. I’m worried about the weight he’s putting on his knee. I’m afraid he’s going to injure himself and set our therapy back, but right now, I can’t bring myself to stop him. All I can think about is how good it feels to have his hands slide my panties down my legs, his mouth hovering right over my clit so I can feel his warm breath whisper against me.

332/629

His hands run up the inside of my thighs until his thumbs glide through my center, spreading me open for him. I want to squeeze my eyes closed in anticipation of what he’s about to do to me, but I won’t let myself. I push up on my elbows and watch him as he dips down, his tongue making the lightest of contact as it slides through me. I whimper when he pulls back, my hips arching forward, begging for more. I need this. I need him. I need the pleasure only Cole can bring me. The sight of his head between my legs is almost enough to push me right over the edge, but I need more. I need everything. “Please, Cole,” I beg softly, my hands threading through his hair, urging him closer.

333/629

One more long, achingly slow lick of his tongue and I can’t help it. I close my eyes and let my head fall back. He takes his time when I want nothing more than for him to speed up and give me release from this pressure that’s building all through my body. His tongue swirls around my clit, sucking it into his mouth as one of his fingers slowly enters me and I’m lost. I’m not conscious of the moans and words that are flying out of my mouth as he devours me with his lips and tongue and my hips thrust against him. He kisses and sucks gently while his finger pumps hard and deep. My whole body is on fire and, as much as I need to come, I never want it to end. The scruff on his face scratches against me, enhancing the experience, and I shout with pleasure when he

334/629

adds a second finger and sucks on my clit harder. He’s always known exactly how to touch me and I’ve missed the feel of his lips and tongue so much that I want to cry. My clit tingles and throbs as he swirls his tongue around it over and over until there’s no stopping the orgasm that explodes out of me. I’m loud and vocal through my release, clutching roughly to his hair to keep him in place while I ride the wave of pleasure, wishing it would never end. I feel myself pulsing against his tongue while my hips jerk erratically, trying to prolong this feeling rushing through my body. Cole moves faster than I thought he could with his bad knee, sliding up my body and pushing his gym shorts down just enough to free his cock. He pushes into me

335/629

with one hard thrust, both of us moaning at how good it feels. I bring his face to mine, running my tongue along his lips, tasting myself on him as he drives himself into me so hard that our bodies move up the mat on the floor. I hook my ankles around him, digging the heels of my feet into his ass, urging him to move faster and harder. I don’t need slow and gentle. I don’t need to be treated like I’m a piece of glass. I need to feel him slamming into me, taking my body so roughly he leaves behind bruises. I need to feel alive and Cole is the only one who can do that for me. His tongue darts through my mouth as his hips piston between my legs. My thighs ache as they squeeze around his hips and it’s the best feeling in the world, aside from his

336/629

cock filling me and claiming me as his. I’ll never get enough of this. I’ll never stop wanting to feel him driving into me, thrusting in and out of me like he can’t get deep enough, can’t push hard enough. Our tongues tangle together and I wrap my arms around him, pulling his body as close to mine as I can as he moves even faster and harder between my thighs. My second orgasm flows through me suddenly as his groin slams repeatedly against my clit with each thrust. He pushes himself deep and holds still as he comes inside of me, moaning into my mouth as we continue our kiss and his entire body shakes with the force of his orgasm.

337/629

He collapses on top of me a few seconds later, our bodies dripping with sweat and our hearts beating together erratically. “I didn’t want to tell you this,” he pants into my neck. “But my knee hurts like a motherfucker.” He laughs before pushing himself off of me, flopping over onto his back. I scramble up on my knees, my hands going straight to his leg and my fingers immediately running gently over the scarred tissue that is already starting to swell. “Dammit, Cole! You should have said something!” I scold, pulling his leg up and bending his knee slowly to get some circulation going through it. “Baby, I don’t care if my head was on fire and my leg was being cut off with a saw. That

338/629

was definitely worth the pain,” he tells me with a smirk. I shake my head my head at him. “What am I going to do with you?” He pushes himself up on his hands until his face is right in front of mine. “You’re going to love me forever and keep giving it to me, just like that,” he says with a laugh before placing a soft kiss on my lips. I shove him away with my own laugh, scolding him as I urge him to lie back down and not move his knee so I can get him some ice. This man is going to try my patience with that smug attitude of his, but he’s right. There’s nothing for me to do but love him. It’s the only thing I know how to do right.

“WELL, HELLO THERE, asshole.” I can’t help but smile as Parker opens the door to her and Garrett’s house. “It’s good to see you too, Parker.” She sighs and pushes the door open wider. “I guess I should let you in. I wouldn’t want the neighbors gossiping about how I made a man on crutches stand on my front porch for hours.”

340/629

Parker steps aside to let me in and I move quickly and efficiently through the door on the crutches, thanks to Olivia. In between talking and having sex on every available surface, she’s been kicking my ass with therapy nonstop for the last two weeks. It’s been a good distraction since I still haven’t been able to talk to my mother. She conveniently manages to return my calls when I’m away from my phone. I’d had enough this morning when she didn’t answer my call yet again and left her an angry voicemail that just said, “I’m back with Olivia. We need to talk. Immediately.” Maybe that will light a fire under her ass and she’ll come back home and quit avoiding me.

341/629

“Garrett! Your rat bastard of a friend is here!” Parker yells as she closes the door behind me. Just then, a little brown-haired ball of energy comes running into the room, hot on the heels of a very freaked out cat, judging by its wide eyes darting around, searching for a place to hide. Parker snatches up the cat and holds the poor, trembling thing out of reach as I stare in shock at the little girl jumping up and down around Parker’s legs trying to grab her “toy.” There’s no way this is Annie. She was a baby when I left, barely crawling. Now she’s running and talking and arguing with her mother. “Kitty! I want kitty!” Annie shrieks, stomping her foot to drive her point home.

342/629

“And kitty wants to live a long, healthy life without fear of being strangled or pet to death,” Parker informs her in a sing-song voice. “Uncle Cole’s here. Do you remember Uncle Cole?” Parker’s attempt at distraction works. Annie turns away from the cat and zeroes in on me. “Hi, Annie. You’ve gotten so big,” I tell her with a smile. “You bring present?” she asks, looking behind my back and all around my feet. I laugh as I stare at her, a sharp pain working its way into my heart when I think about what Olivia told me that night on her couch. If things hadn’t gone wrong, this could have been our future—protecting our

343/629

household pet from the hands of a toddler who is easily distracted. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need that anymore. I have Olivia and that’s more than enough. I push the thought away and bend over to get a closer look at my goddaughter. “Sorry, I didn’t bring anything this time. But I promise, next time I come over I’ll bring you a whole truckload full of toys,” I tell her. Her face lights up and she throws her little arms around my neck, squeezing me tight. “Maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll bring you a stuffed kitty that you can hug and squeeze all you like.” I kiss the top of her head before standing back up and catching Parker staring at the two of us.

344/629

“Real smooth there, Vargas. Sucking up to my kid to get to me,” Parker says with a shake of her head. “Did it work?” I ask with a smile and a raise of my eyebrows. She huffs and switches the cat to her other arm, attempting to remove it’s claws from her skin. “My cold, dead heart where you’re concerned might be thawing a little, but I’m not making any promises.” It’s a start. Parker and I became friends on the first mission in the Dominican and I earned a whole new respect for her when we all found out she was an undercover CIA agent and could kick all of our asses if we crossed her. Seeing how happy she made my friend only solidified my feelings for her. I hate it that I let so many people down when I

345/629

left and I completely understand her disdain for me considering she’s Olivia’s best friend. I understand it, but that doesn’t make it any easier. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.” I close my eyes and grit my teeth when I hear Garrett’s voice behind me. Trying to get back in Parker’s good graces was relatively easy compared to what I’ll go through with Garrett. He shared most of the same nightmares I did and he would have been the only one who understood my need to leave, yet I still shut him out. I turn on my crutches and see him leaning against the doorframe that leads down the hall to the bedrooms. Looking at him, he seems like the epitome of calm and cool, but

346/629

I can see a muscle ticking in his jaw and I briefly wonder if I should just let him kick my ass and get it over with. There’s no sense in fighting back. I deserve a good, swift punch to the face and it looks like Garrett’s dying to give it to me. “Well, I’ll leave you two boys alone,” Parker states, breaking the silence. “Annie, Mr. Whiskers and I have a very important tea party to attend.” Still holding onto Mr. Whiskers, she scoops Annie up into her free arm and walks over to Garrett, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He doesn’t take his eyes off of me as she speaks softly, but loud enough for me to hear. “Please don’t get any blood on the carpet, I just had it cleaned.”

347/629

She disappears down the hall with a chattering Annie. Garrett and I stand on opposite sides of the room, squaring off in silence like two gunslingers in an old Western. I hear a door close down the hall and wait for him to speak first. I’m sure he has quite a lot to say to me. “How’s the knee? Austin said he spoke to you a few weeks ago.” The irritation in his voice is crystal clear. I’ve pretty much spoken to everyone except him and he’s pissed. He should be. I’m pissed at myself for not coming to him first. I look away from him and down at my knee, moving it around and flexing it. “Knee’s doing better. Physical therapy is a bitch, but at least I’ll be off these fuckers soon,” I explain, lifting up the crutches.

348/629

“Shattered kneecaps are pretty rough to come back from,” he says with a nod. “If I never see the inside of another hospital room again, it will be too soon,” I add with an uncomfortable laugh. Jesus Christ, why don’t we just start talking about the weather and shit? The room fills with silence and I try to come up with something to say so we aren’t standing here like assholes chatting about my knee like there isn’t a giant, ugly, pink fucking elephant standing in the corner. After a few minutes, I’ve finally had enough. “For fuck’s sake, will you just tell me how much of a dick I am and get it over with?” I shout in irritation.

349/629

Garrett pushes himself off the wall and stalks towards me. “Is that what you need, Cole? You need me to tell you how much you fucked up? You need me to explain to you how many ways I picked up the Goddamn pieces of the mess you left behind? Will that make you feel better, make you finally understand the shit storm that happened because you thought you had to be a fucking hero?” I throw my crutches away from me angrily and they clatter against the coffee table as I take a step towards Garrett and get up in his face. “FUCK YOU! I wasn’t trying to be a hero. I was trying to make things right!” I shout. “You couldn’t bring them back! Leaving the best thing that ever happened to you and

350/629

turning your back on your FAMILY wasn’t going to magically erase the fact that they’re gone!” I know when he mentions family that he isn’t talking about my parents or my sister. He’s talking about himself. He’s talking about Parker and Annie and Olivia. They were my real family. They were there when it counted and I let them down. “Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think it didn’t kill me to leave? You of all people should understand why I had to do it!” I shout. He smacks his palms against my chest, shoving me backwards and I have to hop a few feet on my good leg to stay upright. “Of course I fucking understand, asshole! I knew as soon as you got that call

351/629

from Risner that you were leaving. What I don’t understand is why the hell you couldn’t talk to me about it. Why the fuck you thought you should leave and do it on your own. I would have gone with you.” “And that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you!” I argue. “How in the fuck could I bring you into that shit and take you away from Parker and Annie? They were MY friends. It was MY duty to kill the assholes who took them from me!” Garrett shakes his head at me with a pissed off laugh. “Jesus Christ, it’s like you’ve forgotten what it means to be a SEAL. We took a fucking oath. Whatever happens to one, happens to ALL. I dragged your ass away from their bodies while you screamed and punched the shit out of me. I was there

352/629

when we got off that fucking plane in the states and you could barely stand when they pulled those flag-draped coffins out of the belly of the cargo plane. You don’t think I felt every fucking thing you did? I may not have had the history with Dragon and King like you, but they were still members of my team. You were my fucking BROTHER and it killed me. I had every damn right to make those fuckers pay and to help you get the revenge you deserved and you took that from me because you thought you had to do it on your own. FUCK YOU!” We stand here toe-to-toe, breathing heavily in anger and I let his words sink in, even though I don’t want to. Garrett was in charge of that mission. Regardless of whether or not Dragon and King were his

353/629

childhood friends, they still died on his watch. I quickly realize that I don’t have the monopoly on guilt. Garrett has had his own festering inside of him, but I was too focused on my own personal vendetta to see it. “I’m sorry,” I finally mutter after a few tense minutes. And just like that, it’s over. We are nothing if not real fucking men. A few shouts, a good swift shove, a muttered apology and we can go back to the way things were. Garrett takes a step back and runs his hands over his face. “You should be. You fucking asshole.” He sighs and shakes his head at me, but I can see a hint of a smile on his face. “God, we’re a bunch of pussies. We’re not hugging

354/629

it out or any shit like that, so don’t get any ideas.” I laugh, limping over to my crutches and picking them up. “I wouldn’t hug you if you begged me. When was the last time you shaved, you ugly bastard? The turn of the century?” Garrett rubs his hand over the scruff on his face and smirks. “Parker likes it when I don’t shave. She says it tickles when I put my head between—” “STOP! Don’t make me puke. Between you and Austin, I don’t know who’s worse. I don’t need a play-by-play of your fucking sex lives,” I tell him in disgust. “Speaking of sex lives, I hear your dick is still in working order even if your knee isn’t.” I look at him questioningly.

355/629

“It’s called a phone, dick head. Olivia and Parker have been known to use it to do this thing they like to call communicate,” he says with a laugh. “Fuck off. I just didn’t realize Olivia had told her about… that she talked about… fuck!” I mumble. I don’t know whether I’m happy or embarrassed that Olivia has been yapping to Parker about what’s going on between us. I’m leaning more towards happy because whatever Olivia told her is obviously the reason Parker didn’t punch me in the face when she opened the door and saw me standing there. “The only reason I’m honoring Parker’s request to not get your blood on her newly cleaned carpets is because Olivia seems

356/629

happy again. She went through a lot while you were gone and she deserves this.” I nod my head in agreement, moving over to the couch to give my knee a rest. I sit down and pull my leg up onto the coffee table. Garrett follows and the couch bounces as he flops down next to me. “I know. She told me what happened.” Garrett looks at me in shock. “She told you? Everything?” “About the baby? Yeah, she told me. Jesus, I really fucked up. I can’t believe I left her alone to deal with that shit.” “Honestly, man, I have never felt so damn helpless in my life. The whole situation is fucked up and, on top of that, I’ve had to try and keep my wife in check. I had to hide the key to our gun safe. Do you have any idea

357/629

what kind of shit she’s given me for that?” Garrett shudders and, even though it’s not funny, I can’t help but laugh. Garrett McCarthy, big, bad Navy SEAL fears his wife. “My mother is conveniently out of town and isn’t returning my calls. She’s got a lot of explaining to do and I have a feeling that’s why she’s ignoring me. And my dad? What the fuck? Something’s not right there. Since when does he go out of town to a golf resort? I haven’t even seen Caroline in a few weeks, so I can’t ask her. My entire family seems to have up and left as soon as Olivia came back into my life. That can’t be a coincidence.” Garrett shakes his head. “Nothing is ever a coincidence, you of all people should know that. Just promise me one thing. When the shit hits the fan, and it will, don’t you dare

358/629

leave Olivia’s side. I’m telling you right now, she won’t survive it. She’s lost enough, she’s been through enough, and no matter what happens, it’s not worth it. You two found each other again and there’s a fucking reason for that. For once in your life, just forget about the past and concentrate on moving forward.” I know he’s right. Nothing should matter but the fact that I have Olivia, but it’s not that simple. My family did something to hurt her and I can’t forget about that. Even after all the talking we’ve done the last few weeks, she’s still hesitant to tell me what I want to know about their part in what happened. I know we’ll never be able to completely move on until I find out the truth and try to make it right. I won’t let them hurt her ever again,

359/629

I won’t let them ruin the best thing that has ever happened to me and I will cut all ties with my mother if that’s the way it has to be. If she can’t see how much Olivia means to me, how much she will ALWAYS mean to me, then she doesn’t deserve a place in my life. Garrett and I spend the next few hours shooting the shit and he fills me in on what he’s been doing the year that I’ve been gone. I thank him repeatedly for being there for Olivia, but he just brushes it off. He’s a good friend and I’ll never be able to fully express my gratitude for what he did. Parker invites me to stay for dinner and I eat with Annie on my lap while she talks non-stop about cartoons and other little girl nonsense and I daydream about having a life like this with

360/629

Olivia. Maybe we won’t be able to have kids of our own with Olivia’s gorgeous blue eyes and dimples in both cheeks, but we can still have a good life. Even if it’s just the two of us growing old together, it will still be amazing. As I back out of Garrett and Parker’s driveway, I make a last-minute decision and head towards Olivia’s place instead of going back to my parent’s house. The guesthouse nestled across from their enormous house has never once felt like home to me. The only place I want to go, the only place I belong is with Olivia, wherever she is. Getting stuck in rush hour traffic gives me plenty of time to think, about Olivia and my family and how all of them crashed together in a way I never wanted. I know they’re all keeping something from me and I know I’m not

361/629

going to like it. The family that always seemed so strong on the outside is slowly crumbling on the inside. I think back to the scene I walked in on right after I moved into the guesthouse and I wonder if that was the beginning of the downward spiral or a culmination of everything that happened while I was gone. Martha held the front door open for me and I quietly thanked her as I moved through the doorway, managing not to bump into anything on the damn crutches. My armpits were sore from having those fucking things shoved into them and my skin was starting to chafe all around the brace that went from my thigh to my calf. My doctor offered to call in another

362/629

prescription for painkillers, but I refused him. They not only numbed the pain, they numbed my fucking mind and I couldn’t handle it. The only time it was really a problem was at night when I was trying to sleep. All the movement from the day would hit me all at once and it felt like someone was slicing into my knee with a rusty knife. I heard a commotion down the hall and it sounded like it was coming from my father’s office. I turned around to ask Martha what was going on, but she was nowhere to be found. As I hobbled across the marble floor, the closer I got to the office, the louder the voice became. “…did this to us! … inside out… don’t even care!”

363/629

I paused, trying to figure out who was yelling and what the hell they were talking about. The door to the office was closed and everything was muffled. Leave it to my father to find the most expensive, thickest door he could buy for his damn office. It made it impossible to properly spy on people. “…hate you! … pay for this!” I heard the unmistakable sound of a palm connecting with a cheek and then all was silent. A few seconds later, the door flew open and my father was the first one out. He noticed me standing there leaning on my crutches, but didn’t say a word. This was the first time we’d seen each other since I’d been back from the Dominican and I thought maybe a “Welcome home, son” was the least he could do. The scowl on his face

364/629

never disappeared as he walked right past me without a sound. Stupid me for thinking he might have changed his tune about my life choices. Guess he didn’t care that I almost died. He should at least be happy about the fact that I’m now unemployed and will never be able to go on another mission. It’s the perfect opportunity for him to start pressuring me again about following in his fucking footsteps. My mother rushed out of the room next, her face flushed and I wondered for a moment if the smack I heard was my father hitting her. I had the urge to chuck my crutches away and run after him to beat his ass, but I wouldn’t get very far on this fucking knee.

365/629

“Cole! What a surprise! Is everything satisfactory over at the guesthouse?” she asked cheerfully. I ignored her question. “What the hell is going on? Is everything okay? She smoothed a hand over her hair and smiled. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just some silly issues at the hospital. Are you going to join us for dinner tonight? Martha is making a filet with red skin potatoes. I’ll have her set a place for you.” She walked up to me quickly and kissed my cheek before rushing off down the hall. Instead of going after her, I made my way into the office and found Caroline sitting on the floor in front of our father’s desk, her legs pulled up to her chest and her head resting on her knees.

366/629

“Hey, are you okay?” I asked softly. Her head jerked up and her face lit with a smile, despite the tears on her cheeks. “Nothing a good trip to the mall won’t cure.” She pushed herself up from the floor and walked over to me. She cocked her head to the side and smiled sadly at me. “You still love me, right Cole?” Caroline had always been a little on the needy side. She craved attention and she was always questioning everyone’s love for her. I had no idea what it was like to be adopted, to know that your real parents didn’t want you and gave you away for someone else to raise. My parents were always honest with her about her birth, never wanting her to think

367/629

they were lying to her or holding something back. They thought it would make her feel more secure knowing that THEY wanted her. That out of all of the children in the world, they picked her and that after all of the miscarriages my mother went through after she had me, they were so happy and excited to be able to bring another child into their lives. I think all of that knowledge had the opposite effect on Caroline. Her feelings were easily hurt and she did everything she could to get my parent’s attention. Whatever is going on with my family right now, I know it’s got to be twice as hard on her. As much as I want to spend every waking moment with Olivia, I know I need to make time for Caroline, as well. She’s my sister. She’s the one person in my family who has

368/629

always stood by me and she deserves to have one family member who isn’t a fucked up mess. She never told me what happened in my father’s office that day, only hinting about problems between our parents and how annoying all of their drama was. I never pressed her for more. I knew she’d tell me when she was ready, but I think it’s time for me to push the issue. I need to know what the hell is going on between my parents and if it has anything to do with what happened to Olivia. I didn’t like the look of rage on my father’s face that day or the fact that both my mother and Olivia seem to be concealing something that I’m sure involves him. Now that things are squared away with Garrett, I feel like my life is finally making sense again. I WILL move forward. I WILL

369/629

forget about what happened because I know it’s what Olivia needs. But I will get to the bottom of things first, because it’s what I need.

“NO, NO, NO! This can’t be happening!” Everyone in the room flinches as a glass goes hurdling across the room and crashes into the wall. They watch the manic pacing back and forth in front of the couch, holding their breath because one wrong move, one wrong word will make things worse.

371/629

“She can’t be back. She CAN’T! She’s going to ruin everything, why can’t he see that?!” Getting out of town for a little while seemed like a good idea at the time. Cole didn’t want anyone’s help and there were things that needed to be taken care of before he discovered the truth on his own. That couldn’t happen. That could NEVER happen. They all made mistakes that could never be undone, and Cole would never forgive them if he knew the truth. All the years of lying and hiding were taking their toll on everyone. They made up stories about vacations to faraway places to excuse their absences in an attempt to rid the house of the evil that lurked inside, but it never worked. They came home and it started all over again. No

372/629

one would ever believe it, no one would ever suspect what was happening to the perfect Vargas family, they made sure of it. Olivia was supposed to stay away. Hadn’t she been through enough? Hadn’t she seen that this family was poison? She paid the ultimate price for loving one of them. When would it ever end? “I have to fix this. I have to make this right. Don’t you see? He needs me to show him the life he’s supposed to lead. He keeps screwing it up, over and over again. WHY THE FUCK WON’T HE JUST LISTEN TO ME?!” The delusions had always been there, they just chose to ignore them until it was no longer possible. They realized too late that they’d let things go on for far too long, so

373/629

long that there was nothing left they could do to save the mind that was hopelessly shattered or protect the people around them from the monster that emerged afterwards. One of them finally moves forward in an attempt to calm the fury that has blown through the room. “You’ve been doing so well, don’t let this ruin things. It doesn’t have to be this way.” A loud, violent yell pierces the quiet room as hands swipe across the top of the desk, papers and folders, paperweights and picture frames smashing to the floor. They watch in horror as a painting is yanked from the wall and thrown across the room. They swallow their tears as furniture is overturned and the sound of chaos around them finally

374/629

brings others rushing into the room to lend assistance. As they watch the person they love, despite everything, being dragged out of the room kicking and shouting curses, they wonder where the hell they went wrong. They blame themselves for the situation they’re in, and rightly so. Sometimes the things you do for the ones you love have consequences. They are ALL going to pay the price for this, but there’s no turning back now. The two left behind stand in silence in the now empty mess of a room. The only good thing to come out of all of this is the new strength in their relationship. It’s been a long time since they saw eye-to-eye on something. They both made their share of

375/629

mistakes in that regard, but at least now they’re on the same side. “I know you’re the one who got her the job as Cole’s nurse.” A guilty silence fills the room. “I know you thought you were doing something good, but do you see now? Do you see why I did what I did?” The response is a heavy sigh and a simple nod. “I’ll fix this, I promise. We’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be fine.” They walk out of the room, each of them thinking about the steps that will need to be taken, each of them dreading the part they are going to have to play.

376/629

Everything they do is to protect the ones they love. In order to save them all, someone has to get hurt in the process. It’s the only way. They made their deal with the devil a long time ago. Right now, all they can do is pray that this one last action doesn’t cost them everything.

I WAKE WITH a smile on my face when I feel Cole’s hand travel up the inside of my thigh as he presses his lips to the back of my neck. Feigning sleep, I let him continue with his wandering hand until it slides between my legs and his fingers brush against my clit. I let out a sigh and push my ass back against him, finding him hard and ready for me.

378/629

“Wake up, sleepy head,” he whispers, trailing his tongue along the edge of my earlobe. “Five more minutes¸” I tease. He pushes a finger inside me and slides his thumb back and forth over my clit. “Fuck, never mind. Who needs sleep?” I mumble as he slowly works his finger in and out of me. “Good answer,” Cole growls. He moves his hand from between my legs and before I can protest, he quickly pulls my thigh back over his hip and pushes his cock into me in one strong thrust. We groan in unison. He wraps one arm around my waist and I reach behind me, clutching onto his ass, pulling him deeper inside me. We start moving slowly, his hips

379/629

rocking gently as I push my ass against him with each stroke. I feel him push up on one elbow and I turn my head to look up at him. “Touch yourself, baby. Make yourself come while I fuck you.” His words turn me on and I feel myself getting wetter as he picks up the pace, grabbing onto my hip and pulling me roughly against him. I feel his ass clench under my hand as he slams into me again and again. I quickly let go and move my hand between my legs, spreading my fingers and letting his cock slide between them as he thrusts. “Fuck, Liv. FUCK. You feel so damn good,” he mutters, trailing kisses along my cheek.

380/629

I move my hand up and circle my clit with two fingers, whimpering at how good it feels to have him inside me while I touch myself. I did this on my own for far too long and it never satisfied me. I circle my fingers around and around, my hips jerking as I push myself closer to release. Everything feels better with Cole, even my own hand. He’s so strong, and solid and warm. I’ve been cold and empty for too long. He makes everything better and I know that no matter what obstacles still lay in front of us, this part of our relationship will always line up perfectly. From the very first time we had sex, I knew there would never be another man I’d want or crave as much as Cole. He knows exactly what to say, exactly where to

381/629

touch and exactly how to move to bring me more pleasure than I’d ever known. My fingers move faster and our bodies collide harder as we both race to the finish. My orgasm starts in my toes and quickly moves its way up my body until it explodes out of me with a shout. Cole bites down gently on the skin of my shoulder as I come against my fingers while he thrusts harder and faster inside of me. I want to bottle up this feeling of euphoria and never let it go. The smell of his skin, his breath on my neck, his fingers digging into my hips as he drives into me… it’s like a drug addiction I never want to curb. He chants my name over and over as he finds his release and thrusts into me one last time, holding himself still as he comes. I feel his cock

382/629

pulsing inside of me and there’s a twinge of sadness in my heart that these amazingly passionate moments between us will never again result in a baby. I hate that I can’t give him this one thing, but I know without a doubt that he was telling the truth when he told me it didn’t matter. As much as it hurts, I know he’s right. Nothing matters but here and now, and I’m not going to ruin it with regrets or sadness. We fall back to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms and it isn’t until we hear someone calling Cole’s name that we jerk awake. For the last few weeks, I’ve been doing Cole’s therapy in the gym at the housing complex and it’s been easier for him to just spend the night in our home.

383/629

Even though I painted over our yellow door and removed every trace of him from that house, it was always ours and there’s no point in calling it just mine anymore. It was never a home without him in it, anyway. Last night, he convinced me to give him a break on physical therapy by pulling out the big guns, a collector’s edition of Dirty Dancing. He told me that I had to come to his place if I wanted to watch it. When I got there, he had candles lit on the table next to a bouquet of my favorite pink roses and the smell of tomato and garlic filled the house. He knew his homemade lasagna was my weakness and stuffing me full of noodles and cheese would make me more agreeable to spending a few hours that close to his parent’s home, but I never meant to fall asleep

384/629

here. Being this close to them, even if they are out of town, makes me feel uneasy, but I couldn’t say no to him. I’m not ready to face anyone in his family just yet, but it looks like I don’t have a choice. “Whose car is out front? I tried calling your cell phone but—” The bedroom door is pushed open and I burrow down deeper under the covers and try to hide my embarrassment at being caught in his bed. Caroline stands in the doorway, a look of shock passing over her face before quickly being replaced with excitement. “Olivia! Oh, my God!” Pulling my hand out from under the covers, I give her a little wave and a smile. “Hi, Caroline.”

385/629

“Ever hear of knocking, sis?” Cole asks with a laugh, scooting up in bed to lean against the headboard. “Ever hear of calling your favorite sister and telling her, oh, I don’t know, that maybe something BIG is going on in your life?” she fires back, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her foot. “First of all, you’re my only sister and second, I did call. Do you ever check your messages?” Caroline waves her hand at him and rolls her eyes. “Voicemails are thirty seconds of my life I’ll never get back. I had shoe sales to attend to.” I smile at their back and forth banter and try not to be mortified that I’m still naked under the covers with Cole’s sister standing a

386/629

few feet away. Surprisingly, I don’t feel any anger at seeing her again. The last time I saw her was one of the worst days of my life, but it was wrong of me to lash out at her. “It’s good to see you again, Caroline,” I tell her honestly. She stares at me for a few moments and I swear I see a flash of anger wash over her face. It’s gone before I can blink, though, and I know I must have imagined it. Caroline was sweet to me even when I was at my worst, screaming at her in a hospital room. I hope to God she isn’t angry about the way I behaved. I know none of it was her fault, but she was the only Vargas there at the time and I needed someone to blame. I don’t want there to be any animosity between us.

387/629

There’s going to be enough of that between Vivien and I to go around. “You and I, we’re going to have lunch and talk ASAP,” Caroline tells me with a bright smile. “That would require her putting on clothes and I’m not really okay with that,” Cole teases, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against his side. Caroline’s face takes on a look of disgust and I jab my elbow into Cole’s ribs. “Will you cut it out? You’re going to make your sister puke.” “Seriously, Cole. It’s bad enough I have to stand here and look at you two like… that,” she complains, waving her hands in our direction.

388/629

Cole kisses the top of my head and laughs at her. “You two make me sick,” she mutters. For a minute, she seems really disgusted as she stands there staring at the two of us, and it confuses me until her face lights up with a smile. “Well, I’ll let you two get back to it while I find a bottle of bleach to dump in my eyes.” Caroline turns to leave the room but pauses, looking back at Cole. “Mom and Dad are going to be home later today. Just a heads-up.” I feel Cole’s body tense against mine as silent communication flows back and forth between the siblings. “Anything you want to clue me in on before they get here?” Cole asks.

389/629

Caroline glances at me before her eyes go back to Cole. I always thought Caroline was clueless about the things that happened around her, but maybe I was wrong. She looks guilty and I instantly feel bad for her. She’s in a tough situation. It’s not like she’s had time for a heart-to-heart with Cole, but if she knows something and didn’t tell him right away, it’s going to kill him. My own guilt rushes through me, but the things I’ve kept from him are honestly just suspicions. It’s not like I have any proof. How could I possibly tell him what I suspect when I’m not even sure myself? I don’t want to be responsible for pulling him away from his family even if I believe with everything inside of me that they did something wrong, something immoral and evil that can never be erased.

390/629

It’s my word against theirs and, even though I know Cole trusts me and knows I wouldn’t lie to him, he’s a man who believes facts. Hard evidence and solid proof are the only things that he can count on and I can’t give him either one of those. I know that he would go against everything he believes in to side with me, but how can I put him in that situation? I need the proof, and I need it fast. “You’ll be happy to know we’re mending our relationship. I think maybe it’s time you do the same,” Caroline tells him. I don’t have to look at Cole’s face to know there’s shock all over it. Caroline and Vivien have never gotten along, so hearing something like that come out of her mouth is a little alarming and doesn’t sit right.

391/629

“Just call me after you talk to her, okay? Promise me? You’ll come to me first, right?” Caroline begs him, her voice taking on that of a petulant child instead of a grown adult. Her words irritate me because, before anyone else, Cole should come to me. I get that she’s his sister, but this is our problem, not hers. Even if Vivien is going to admit what she did and Caroline knows all about it, Cole and I need to work that out with Vivien, not with her. I know Cole. He won’t blame her for this, even if she withheld information from him. He knows that she loves him and anything she did was only to protect him, unlike his mother. Cole nods his head at Caroline, but doesn’t reply. She smiles at both of us and

392/629

quickly leaves the room, closing the door behind her. After we hear the front door close, Cole lets out a huge sigh. “I want you to come with me when I talk to my parents.” I move out of his arms and turn to face him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He puts his hands on either side of my face and stares into my eyes. “Listen to me. No matter what, it’s you and I. Nothing else matters. Nothing she says to me is going to make any difference.” Accept for the fact that she just might tell you she gave me money to have an abortion. And she’ll ruin any inkling of good you thought she had in her when she admits that I didn’t just lose your baby, he was taken from me.

393/629

Maybe this is finally it. Maybe that woman has finally had enough of the lies and the secrets. Her husband might be losing his mind and her daughter obviously knows something, so what she’s done HAS to come out at some point. Maybe Vivien finally realizes that her son is a Navy SEAL and he can ferret out the truth no matter what happens. Even if she tries to lie her way out of this, Cole is smarter than that and she knows it. I only wish he didn’t have to be hurt to get to the truth. I was honest with him about the pregnancy, just not about everything that followed. My skin pebbles with goose bumps just thinking about reliving that nightmare again. Knowing what I went through while he was thousands of miles away would only

394/629

hurt him more. The guilt would eat him alive and I couldn’t do that to him. I can’t do that to him. He doesn’t need to know the gritty details. He doesn’t need to know how I screamed and cried for him with each wave of pain that wracked my body. He doesn’t need to know that I almost died. Correction—that I did die. I felt nothing but peace, free of my pain and heartbreak for thirty whole seconds before I was shocked back to life and forced to relive the horror again and again, every single day since that moment. He’ll find out the truth about his family today, it will hurt him and there’s nothing I can do to make it better. “I can’t be in the same room with her, Cole. I just can’t. I’m sorry,” I tell him softly, resting my hands on top of his against my

395/629

face. “She took something from me that I can never get back and I can’t forgive her for that.” He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against mine. I wish I could tell him more. I wish I could tell him how much I despise that woman. How many times I wished her dead, but I can’t. He needs to find out the truth straight from her, it’s the only way. I can’t let my opinion of her sway his feelings. If I told him about all of my suspicions right now, it would cloud his judgment and he would never speak to her again. As much as I would love nothing better than that, she is his mother and he needs to do this on his own. He needs to see what kind of woman she really is for himself and the only way for

396/629

that to happen is to let him speak to her without me there as a distraction. “I’ll be here when it’s all over, I promise. I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him, repeating the same words he’s said to me the last few weeks. Cole pulls me back down in bed and holds me close, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I never allowed Garrett or Parker to look into things after I got out of the hospital. I didn’t care about anything at that point. I just wanted to be left alone with my misery. They argued with me every day for a week, only stopping when they saw that they were just making things worse. The more we fought about it and the more I relived everything that had happened, the deeper I fell into a hole of depression. As soon as Cole

397/629

goes to talk to his mother, I’m going straight to Garrett and Parker to tell them I’m finally ready for their help. If Vivien tries to poison Cole with more lies, I’ll be prepared this time.

I’M WAITING IN my father’s office when I hear the front door open and my mother speaking in a low, murmured voice to Martha. I’m sure she’s telling my mother that I’m here and that I refused to leave until I spoke with her. I guarantee she’s informing her that, for the first time in her employment, I raised my voice. I assume when I hear my mother’s gasp that Martha’s

399/629

relaying my choice words over her suggestion that I go back to the guesthouse and wait for her to send my mother over when she arrived home. As I hear the squeak of shoes against the marble floor as she makes her way down the hall, I wonder what’s going through her head, about what kinds of lies she’s trying to conjure up before she opens the door and stands in front of me. She can’t ignore me any longer. I’m not leaving until I get every bit of the truth from her, once and for all. I left my crutches back in my bedroom, not wanting anything to make me appear weak when I face her. The pacing I’ve done while I waited hasn’t done my knee any favors and it throbs like a bitch, but I refuse to sit down. The squeaking shoe sound abruptly

400/629

stops when she steps onto the plush carpeting in the office. I don’t turn around and I hear her take a shaky breath as she walks by and turns to stand in front of me. Her appearance throws me for a loop and I momentarily forget about my reasons for coming here. Her usual slicked back, severe hairstyle looks like it went through a wind tunnel. There are messy pieces sticking up all over the place and I watch as she brings a shaking hand up to her head to try and smooth some of the wayward pieces back and tuck them behind her ears. While she’s busy with that, I look her up and down and my shock grows tenfold. Her normal daily uniform of a perfectly pressed threepiece suit has been replaced with a pair of black yoga pants, tennis shoes without

401/629

shoelaces in them and a plain white tee shirt that looks like it’s two sizes too big for her. She looks like she escaped from a mental institution and I have to cover up an inappropriate laugh with a cough. She looks crazy and I feel crazy. What the fuck is going on? “I’m sorry. Let me just start this off with an apology, okay?” she finally speaks. She stops trying to fix her hair and wrings her hands together nervously in front of her. “What exactly are you apologizing for? I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you admit what you did.” Olivia never came right out and said it, but it didn’t take a genius to read between the lines. My mother got her fired from her job and she did something to make Olivia

402/629

lose the baby. Even if it was just the stress of being fired, it was enough. Olivia has every right to be pissed at what my mother did to her. “You’ve spoken to Olivia then?” she asks. I roll my eyes and scoff at her. “Of course I’ve spoken to her. I love her, how many times do I have to tell you that before it sinks in? Did you really think she wouldn’t tell me everything? Did you really think she’d keep something like this from me?” I don’t mention the fact that she didn’t tell me everything. I don’t want my mother to think for one second that Olivia was doing anything to protect her. I want her to know that, despite the threats she obviously made, nothing could scare Olivia away from me for good. Olivia had her reasons for withholding

403/629

the truth about how fucked up my family really is, and I can’t blame her for that. The blame lies solely with the woman standing in front of me, not looking quite as regal and commanding as she always used to. “Oh, Cole. I was afraid this would happen. I knew if you two got back together she would turn you against us.” “Are you fucking kidding me with this? Olivia did NOTHING wrong. You ruined everything. YOU,” I shout, pointing directly at her. “You just couldn’t handle the fact that I fell in love with someone you didn’t approve of. That didn’t give you any fucking right to play God with her life and the life of my child!” My mother winces when I mention the baby. Her grandchild. Her fucking

404/629

grandchild! I could maybe understand her need to push Olivia out of my life. I could never forgive it, but I could understand. This was a baby, though. An innocent child, her own flesh and blood, and her actions started a chain of events that took that child away from all of us. She deserves every bit of my hatred. “I was wrong to give her that check, I know that now, believe me. It was stupid and I overreacted. You have to believe me when I tell you that I honestly never thought she’d actually cash it and do what she did. It was just a gesture. A stupid, selfish act that I thought would prove to her how different she is from us and force her to move on and start a new life. It was meant to disgust her, not for her to take seriously.”

405/629

My mother finally stops rambling and I stare at her in confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about? What check?” She looks at me with pity and it takes everything I have in me not to get in her face and scream at her like I did with Garrett the other day. “I thought she told you. I’m sorry, I thought you knew.” She quickly turns away from me and goes around to the back of my father’s desk and starts pulling out drawers, shuffling through files and papers. “I hate myself for what I did, you have to believe me, Cole. I can’t do this anymore and what happened today only solidifies that.”

406/629

I shake my head at her. “You’re not making any sense. What the hell happened? Will you stop digging through the fucking drawer and look at me!” She jerks her head up and, for a moment, the mother I’ve always known is looking right at me. She purses her lips and raises her chin in defiance. “Your father, he’s not on a golfing trip. He’s been sick. He’s been sick since before you left and when Olivia came to me and told me she was pregnant, I didn’t know what else to do.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before looking at me again. “He hated her, Cole. I’ve never seen him act the way he did when her name was mentioned. He was so focused on you having the

407/629

perfect life and following in his footsteps that it drove him crazy thinking you were going to screw everything up again. I don’t know what happened. One day he was fine and the next he just snapped.” She bows her head and speaks the next part so quietly that I have to lean forward to hear her. “The doctors think he’s schizophrenic with severe delusions.” My jaw drops and my eyes widen in shock as she continues. “He sees Olivia as a threat to you and this entire family. I didn’t know what to do. I just wanted my husband back and I didn’t know what to do!” She’s sobbing now, the tears rolling down her cheeks in a way I’ve never seen in my entire life. Even at her own parents’

408/629

funerals, she never cried like this. I can’t even process what she’s telling me about my father because my stoic, perfectly poised mother is breaking down right in front of me. “He didn’t retire, I made him quit. He started making mistakes at work, signing off on the wrong surgeries, ordering the wrong medications and getting into screaming matches with the staff. I had to get him out of there. He’s had a few stays at some very good institutions over the years, but they never did any good. All of those trips we took? That’s where we were. Trying one new thing after another to bring him back. It never worked. NOTHING worked. I had him involuntarily committed a few months ago.” I sink down into the chair in front of the desk, trying to make the words come, but I

409/629

can’t. I can’t believe what she’s saying and yet, it makes sense. He always seemed so strong and silent, but underneath it all was a bomb just waiting to go off. He was always so focused on my future and the mistakes he thought I’d made with my career choice. Instead of trying to listen to me and understand what I wanted out of life, he would walk away. He was always walking away from me and I finally understand why. The man who ran an entire hospital and was revered by everyone in this city was slowly losing his mind. I think back to all the times my mother stopped him mid-sentence. I always thought she was trying to sway his decisions, to get him to come over to her way of thinking, but maybe she was just trying to redirect his thoughts, calm him down and keep

410/629

him from losing his shit and revealing what they’d kept hidden for so long. I resented every time my mother interrupted a private conversation between my father and I, blaming her for the breach in our relationship. I blamed her for my father’s disappointment in all of my choices. I blamed her for his anger and his refusal to listen to me when, all along, it was his own mind keeping us apart. I remember walking in on arguments between my mother, my father and Caroline. She always brushed it off and made jokes about how they were disappointed that she was soiling the family name. Did she know? All this time, did Caroline know what was going on with our father? I left for the Navy right out of high school and I was rarely home afterwards. Caroline was left behind to

411/629

deal with the chaos. Of course she knew. She was the one who was here, day in and day out, not me. The conversation we had earlier about her and our mother mending fences makes sense now. They finally have something in common. All those years our mother spent trying to make her conform and turn her into a mini version of herself did nothing but make Caroline wilder and more defiant. Being the only two people in the house left to deal with our father as he deteriorated would obviously bring them together. My family is a mess, but I should have been there. I should have known. Caroline should have told me. I let her shoulder this all on her own and I know it couldn’t have been easy.

412/629

My mother finally finds what she’s looking for in the drawer, pulling the folder up to her chest and hugging it to herself for a few moments before slowly pulling it away and holding it out to me. “I understood what you had with Olivia, I really did, even if you don’t believe that. In the beginning, I thought she would be good for you, a way to make up for the past and for the things we never gave you. For the love your father could never give you and for how preoccupied I was with his illness. I should have told you about him a long time ago. Maybe then, none of these mistakes would have been made.” I take the file from her hand and set it in my lap, opening it up and staring at the contents inside. My hands start to shake as I

413/629

grab the photocopied piece of paper lying on top. “I never thought she’d take the money, Cole, I swear to you. I just wanted her as far away from your father as possible until I could figure out what to do. I didn’t know if you were ever coming back to us and I didn’t know what to do.” I hear her crying as she speaks, but I don’t answer her. I can’t give her the comfort I know she needs because I don’t understand what the fuck I’m looking at right now. It can’t be real, but it is. It’s real and the proof is in my hands. It’s a copy of the front and back of a cashed check. It’s made out to Olivia in the amount of ten thousand dollars, dated six weeks after I left for the Dominican a year

414/629

ago. I want to shout and curse and throw the file at my mother and tell her it’s fake, but I can’t. Because it’s not. The back of the check has Olivia’s signature on it and it’s marked up with all of the numbers and codes that were stamped by the bank the day she cashed it. The day she fucking cashed it. “I never thought she’d actually cash it and do what she did.” My mother’s words echo through my mind. There has to be an explanation. There’s no way this means what she’s fucking implying. Olivia wouldn’t do this. She WOULDN’T. That nightmare she had was real, the guilt and the sorrow she felt was real. She couldn’t fake something like that, not with me.

415/629

“You’re lying. You’re FUCKING LYING! Why can’t you tell the Goddamn truth for once in your life?” I shout. Olivia did something else with the money. All I have to do is ask her about it. She probably put it in a savings account for me for when I got home or some stupid shit. She didn’t tell me because I’m sure she was embarrassed. Hell, maybe she even spent the money to pay the mortgage since I wasn’t there to help. I don’t care what the fuck she did with the money as long as it isn’t what my mother is trying to say. “Look at the next page, Cole,” my mother tells me quietly, a hiccup in her voice as she cries harder. I look away from her and snatch up the next page in the file, quickly scanning it and

416/629

my blood runs cold. It’s a medical report, Olivia’s medical report, and it’s dated two days after the check was cashed. After being around people in the medical field all my life, I know enough to understand what the fuck I’m looking at right now. My first thought is that it’s fake. I mean, for fuck’s sake, my parents run a damn hospital, my mother could easily forge a document like this. Then I see the signatures of not one, not two, but three different attending physicians. As much pull as my mother has at UC San Diego, not even SHE could force three well-renowned doctors to lie about something like this. There are checks and balances in place at every hospital to make sure things like that never happen. With a large sum of money, she might have swayed one of them to commit

417/629

medical fraud, but not three of them. It would never happen. Even with the proof staring me right in the face, I still want to deny it. She wouldn’t do this. GODDAMMIT, she wouldn’t do this! “I didn’t want to do it on my own.” “I wasn’t taking care of myself.” “I didn’t want to do it without you.” Olivia’s words repeat on a loop in my head and I can’t turn them off. I knew there was something she wasn’t telling me, but how in the fuck could it be this? How could she do this? How could she tell me everything else but leave this part out? Because she knew you would hate her for it. She spent all that time and energy being pissed at me for leaving, making me beg for

418/629

her forgiveness and open up every bad fucking wound of my past when the entire time, she was keeping a secret like this. Something isn’t right about this entire thing, but I’m too full of rage to try and make sense of anything. I loved her, I promised her the fucking world, I told her EVERYTHING and she lied to me. She lied right to my fucking face. I want to argue with my mother, I want to swear on everything that I am and everything that I believe in that Olivia would never do this, but the proof is right in front of me. It’s in my fucking hand and, as much as I don’t want to believe it’s true, I can’t ignore this piece of paper. I feel the rage burning a hole right through me the longer I look down at it, rereading every single detail of what she did to her body and to my child.

419/629

Everyone in my life lied to me. EVERYONE. It doesn’t hurt knowing my parents and my sister lied, but it tears apart everything inside of me realizing that Olivia did. Even Garrett lied, my own fucking best friend. His cryptic words about how when the shit hits the fan, I couldn’t dare leave Olivia again. He knew what she did and he knew it would break me. Jesus Christ, I crawled to both of them on my hands and knees! I blamed myself for every rip and tear in our relationships and they let me. They fucking let me. “I should have never given her the money. I take full responsibility for even suggesting that she do something like this, but you have to believe me, Cole. I never thought she would. I lost five babies, son, babies I wanted with every fiber of my being. Surely

420/629

you can see that I’d never expect a woman like Olivia could do this. I thought she was stronger than that. I just wanted her to leave so she’d be safe.” I don’t say a word as I push myself up from the chair. I don’t ask about my father because I don’t fucking care. I don’t tell my mother I forgive her, because I never will. She played her own part in all of this and she’s going to have to live with that for the rest of her life. This family is a joke. One big, fat fucking joke. And I guess everything I thought I had with Olivia is, too. My mother calls my name over and over as I walk towards the door. My fury grows with each step I take and I pause in the doorway long enough to yell as loud as I can

421/629

before throwing my fist through the wooden door. I ignore the pain in my knuckles and the blood dripping down my fingers, the paper in my other hand fluttering to the ground as I leave my father’s office. The paper stating that, at seven weeks and four days, Olivia terminated a perfectly healthy pregnancy.

“GARRETT, I COULD kiss you square on the mouth right now,” I tell him as I flip through the papers he just handed me. “In a past life, I would have taken you up on that offer,” he laughs. Parker wraps her arms around his waist and squeezes him tight. “I’m the only woman you’re kissing forever and ever.”

423/629

Garrett slides his arm over her shoulder and smiles down at her. “Damn straight, my little bad ass.” I stare at them with a smile as Garrett explains. “You should really be kissing Parker for what you’re holding in your hand. She’s the one who broke into the hospital, hacked the records and got all of that information. I just played lookout and made sure she didn’t get arrested. Or kill anyone who got in her way.” Parker rolls her eyes at him before moving away and sitting down next to me on the couch. “I know you were adamant about not wanting this information, but you should know by now that I never do a damn thing anyone tells me and I’m not about to apologize for that.”

424/629

A few months ago, I probably would have been upset with her for going behind my back and doing something I specifically told her not to, but she saved my life by doing this without even knowing it. “I wouldn’t accept your apology even if you gave me one,” I tell her. “It’s time for all of this to come out in the open. Lord only knows what Vivien is telling Cole right now. I know he won’t believe anything she tries to tell him, but it will still be nice to have this in my hand so he can see the truth with his own eyes,” I tell her, waving the papers back and forth. Garrett sits down on the other side of me and takes the papers from my hands, flipping through them until he finds one he’s looking for.

425/629

“This right here is pretty much the only one you need, but Parker printed out everything from the moment Cole left until she fired you, just in case you need it.” I look over his shoulder at the page he’s holding up. The day everything changed and the nightmares truly began. “This eight digit code on the left is Vivien’s hospital I.D. number. You’ll see at the top that her name is right next to the code just so there isn’t any confusion about this being HER report with HER activity,” Garrett explains. “On June twenty-fourth, she entered the hospital pharmacy at 9:15 am.” He pulls a second page from the pile and holds it between us.

426/629

“This is the report from the Pyxis MedStation in the pharmacy that lists every single dose taken out of the machine with a date, time stamp and the hospital I.D. number for the person who requested it. Normally, you also have to put in the prescribing doctor’s code for the medicine to be released and recorded, but Vivien would know how to get around that.” I take the paper from his hands and he points to a line in the middle of the page. “At 9:18 am, Vivien used her I.D. to take out twenty units of Pitocin.” Twenty units. Ten more than the typical amount used to induce labor. I feel sick to my stomach and Parker wraps her arm around my shoulder.

427/629

“We still don’t know how she got the initial dose in you, but there’s another report in here that shows her I.D. being used to gain access to the maternity floor several hours later,” Garrett explains. Six hours, to be exact. Six hours spent petrified that I was truly about to lose the very last piece of Cole before the doctors managed to slow everything down. I was in and out of consciousness, exhausted by hours of crying and pain, but I know I saw her in my room. Even half asleep and full of medication to calm me down, I will never forget the vision of her in the doorway of my room. Fifteen minutes later I was wide awake, my body wracked with contractions even stronger than before as I clutched my

428/629

stomach and prayed for everything to be okay. “I know how she gave it to me,” I tell them quietly. Parker and Garrett share a look and I close my eyes, remembering that day so clearly. I was such a fool, such a stupid, trusting fool. I should have known better. Once again, I’m being summoned to Vivien Vargas’ office. I knew it would only be a matter of time before news traveled that I disobeyed her orders. Luck was on my side when she left town for several months and I thought maybe I would be able to skate by, continue doing my job and she would forget all about the threat she made.

429/629

As I made my way down the long hallway to Vivien’s office, I rested my hand protectively over my stomach. There’s nothing she can do it about it now. If she wanted to fire me, let her. I have something much more important to deal with now. I paused in the hallway as the door to Vivien’s office opened and Charles and Caroline stepped out. They spotted me immediately and we all stood in the hallway, staring at one another awkwardly. I had only met Charles once, so I really didn’t care what he was thinking right now, but Caroline was another issue altogether. At one time I thought we could be friends, maybe even allies. She’d tried calling me a few times since Cole left, but my heart couldn’t take talking to her. She reminded

430/629

me too much of Cole with her quick wit and her desire to take care of the people she loved. Hearing her voice reminded me of the times the three of us spent together when he was still here, still loving me and still a part of my life. I can see by the look on her face that she’s hurt seeing me standing here now, looking so different, and I feel bad for not telling her the truth. “Olivia, Mother told us she was meeting with you in a few minutes. You’re looking well,” Caroline told me stiffly. Before I could apologize for not keeping in touch with her, Charles grabbed her arm roughly and started dragging her down the hall towards me.

431/629

“We need to leave, right now,” he growled to Caroline, not even glancing in my direction as he pulled her past me. I turned and watched them go, Caroline rushing to keep up with her father’s brisk footsteps as he stomped angrily down the hall, further away from me. With one last look over her shoulder, Caroline smiled at me. “Good luck in there, Olivia!” she shouted before they both disappeared around the corner. I slumped back against the wall and rested my hand over my nervously beating heart. Running into the rest of the Vargas family was not what I expected when I came up here. Aside from the anger on Charles’ face, it went better than I thought it would,

432/629

but I still had Vivien to contend with and this was no time for me to let down my guard. I pushed away from the wall, squared my shoulders and marched right into Vivien’s office. I open my eyes and think about what happened after I walked through the doors of Vivien’s office. She was angry, rightly so, according to her. She demanded that I do something and I had defied her. Apparently, she wasn’t used to people not doing exactly as she asked. “She offered me a cup of tea,” I tell Garrett and Parker. “She told me I looked tired and pale and said the tea would make me feel better. After she berated me, of course, for not following her orders. I took that

433/629

stupid cup from her and she made me drink the entire thing while she stood there watching me. She must have put the Pitocin in the tea, that’s the only explanation. She couldn’t have stuck me with a needle; the closest she ever got to me was two feet away when she handed me that fucking teacup.” Parker curses, getting up from the couch and pacing back and forth in front of me. “I don’t even know why she called me up to her office. It didn’t occur to me until a few weeks later that the only thing we talked about was how disappointed she was, how shitty I looked and how that special, organic tea would work wonders. I was in so much shock over her failure to acknowledge the obvious and I guess it never occurred to me that it was all a ploy. Even five minutes later

434/629

when I felt the first contraction on the elevator, I didn’t consider that she… I mean, it’s almost unfathomable that Vivien could be capable of this.” I remember that moment in the elevator, doubling over as pain radiated through my lower stomach and spread to my back, so sharp and sudden that it took my breath away. “Let me just play devil’s advocate for a minute here. Roughly five minutes passed from the time you finished the tea until your first contraction. That’s relatively fast, right?” Garrett asks. “Pitocin generally starts working about twenty minutes after it’s administered, but that’s when it’s diluted with sodium chloride and an electrolyte solution. She most likely

435/629

filled up a syringe with straight Pitocin and shot it right into the tea. Without it being watered down, so to speak, it could start working instantaneously,” I tell them. “And after the doctors got everything stabilized, that bitch came back in your room and put more into your I.V. line,” Parker finishes. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I put my head in my hands. Parker squats down in front of me and runs her hand over the top of my head. “It’s going to be over soon. You have all the proof you need to nail her ass to the wall. We can prove that she used her I.D. to obtain the Pitocin right before you met with her, and that she accessed the maternity floor right around the time that things took a turn

436/629

for the worse,” Parker tells me. “And her bullshit reasoning for firing you and trying to strip you of your license because you stole the Pitocin and gave it to yourself can all be explained away now. There’s a reason your blood work came back positive for Pitocin and it’s because that bitch gave it to you.” I drop my hands from my face and look up at her. “I’m going to be the reason that Cole’s entire family falls apart.” She shakes her head back and forth. “Fuck that shit. His family was a mess long before you and he’s better off without them. They need to pay for what they did you, hon. They need to pay for what they did to both of you.” I thank Garrett and Parker for everything they’ve done for me, give them

437/629

both a hug and make my way back to Cole’s house, armed with the information that will change his entire life. His mother can’t lie her way through this. It’s concrete proof that she was directly responsible for what happened to our child. It breaks my heart when I think about how hurt Cole is going to be, and I hesitate for a moment. Then I think about everything I lost, all of the pain and the agony and the loneliness I’ve suffered, all because of Vivien. It’s time to get my life back. I deserve this life with Cole and we deserve to be happy. No matter what excuses Vivien is most likely giving Cole right at this moment, I have the truth and proof on my side.

438/629

AN HOUR LATER, I jump up from the couch in Cole’s living room when he walks through the front door. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for over an hour?” I ask, stepping around the coffee table and heading towards him. The room is dark. I never bothered turning on the lights when I got here earlier because the moon shining through the windows brightened the living room enough for me to see. I want to see Cole’s face clearly, though. I need to see him, to wrap my arms around him and feel his strength. I reach for the light switch on the wall next to him, but his hand comes out quickly, wrapping around my wrist to stop me.

439/629

“No. Keep the lights off.” His voice is low and hoarse and I want to ask him if he’s okay, but I know he’s probably not. I can only imagine how the conversation with his mother went and I decide to keep my mouth shut for the time being and let him work through things however he needs to. He moves faster than I’ve ever seen him, grabbing onto my hips and turning me until my back hits the wall next to the door. His body slams against mine and his lips are on me before I can utter a word. The kiss is reminiscent of the one I gave him when we had sex on the couch a few weeks ago—bruising and hard and filled with anger. I let him take what he wants from the kiss, trying to slow him down and make it gentle, remind him

440/629

that I’m here with him and I’m not going anywhere, but it just fuels his fire. I know that his caveman actions shouldn’t turn me on, but they do. I’m wet and ready for him before he finishes unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his hard length out of his pants. I will give him anything, let him take anything to make his pain go away. He growls into my mouth, plunging his tongue deeper and harder. His hands smack against my ass and he lifts me up against the wall, spreading my legs with his hips as he reaches between us, shoves my underwear to the side and thrusts all the way inside me in one hard push. I pull my mouth away from his to ask if his knee is okay, but he silences me immediately.

441/629

“Don’t talk right now. Please, just don’t talk,” he begs. I can hear the tears in his voice and it breaks my heart. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him as close to me as possible as he starts pounding into me in short, ragged movements. I’m too concerned with what’s going on in his head to concentrate on my own pleasure. It doesn’t matter right now; this is just for him and I will let him take it. He buries his face into the crook of my neck, his hips slamming into me faster and faster until he reaches his release, silently coming inside of me as his fingers dig into the skin of my ass. I close my eyes and run my fingers through his hair as he catches his breath.

442/629

“Well, that was certainly unexpected,” I try to joke with a soft voice. He jerks his body away from mine so quickly that I have to grab onto the wall to steady myself when my feet hit the ground. I watch in the dark shadows as he moves further away from me, staring down at himself as he tucks everything back into his jeans and buttons back up. “It’s a damn good thing you can’t have any more kids, huh, Liv?” he asks sarcastically a few quiet moments later. For a minute I think he’s trying to make a joke, and it doesn’t register that what he’s saying is far from funny. Even in the dark room, there’s enough light coming in from the moon that I can see his face. It’s twisted

443/629

in anger and pain and I’m so confused that I can’t even process what’s happening. “I’m just thinking, imagine all of the little accidents you would have had to dispose of these last few weeks while I fucked you over and over without any protection.” A sob flies out of my mouth and I quickly try to smother it with my hand. What the hell is going on? How can he be so cruel? He takes a step towards me and I do something I never thought I would do with this man—I flinch. Instead of fighting back, yelling at him for speaking to me this way, I crumble. I press my back against the wall as hard as I can, trying to get away from this stranger standing in front of me. This isn’t the Cole I love. This isn’t the man who would

444/629

never consciously do anything to hurt me. I don’t know who this person is. His face is so close to mine that I can feel his breath on my lips, the same breath I adore feeling brush against my skin when he tells me he loves me in the quiet hours when we’re alone. He presses his hands against the wall on either side of my head and leans in, resting his mouth against my ear. “At least now I don’t have to worry about you killing any more of my kids,” he whispers angrily. I open my mouth to scream and yell and curse at him, but nothing comes out except a low, aching whimper. He angrily shoves himself off the wall and away from me. He turns his back on me, yanks open the door and storms through it. I jump when it slams so

445/629

hard behind him that a crystal sconce on the wall next to me crashes to the ground. My body slides down the wall until my butt hits the floor. I wrap my arms around my waist and squeeze my eyes closed, trying to erase every hurtful word that came out of his mouth. I lean to the side until my shoulder hits the ground and I curl up in a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. I forget all about the paperwork I left sitting in the front seat of my car and I forget all about the truth that I thought was on my side. All I can think about is the look on his face and the scorn in his words. Maybe I saw what I wanted to see on those reports and it really was my fault. I never listened to the doctor. I didn’t take it easy. I pushed and I pushed until my body couldn’t take it

446/629

anymore. It doesn’t matter that there was Pitocin in my system that I sure as hell didn’t put there. It doesn’t matter that Vivien has always hated me and pushed like hell to get me out of Cole’s life. Nothing matters anymore because he’s probably right. I was weak and I didn’t do enough to protect that child growing inside of me and I lost him. If I had done what I was told, maybe he would have made it. If I’d taken better care of myself instead of wallowing in my misery, I would have been stronger and he would have been stronger. Maybe then he would have had a chance, even if Vivien did do what we suspected. I killed him. I did this and there’s nothing that can ever heal the pain caused by that knowledge. Now that Cole knows, it’s over.

447/629

Everything is over. There’s nothing left to fight for. I’ve lost everything all over again and I have no one to blame but myself.

I CLENCH AND unclench my fist, staring at the streaks of dried blood on my knuckles, taking another swig of whiskey straight from the bottle. It’s been a long time since I had a drink and the burn feels good sliding down my throat. Outside of a few beers here and there with the guys after a mission, I’ve never been much of a drinker. I’m going to feel like shit tomorrow, but I don’t give a fuck.

449/629

The pain in my head will be nothing compared to the pain I feel everywhere else. She fucking lied to me. They all lied. “One big happy group of fucking liars!” I tell the bottle of whiskey as I hold it up in front of my face and stare at the liquid sloshing around. “What, nothing to say, Whiskey? Because you know it’s true.” Jesus, I’m drunk. I laugh at myself and bring the bottle back up to my lips. “What the hell are you doing?” I pause with the bottle at my mouth and try to get my eyes to focus on the person standing at the bottom of the steps. “Fuck you, Olivia. Go away,” I snarl.

450/629

I hear footsteps pounding up the stairs and, before I can take another drink, the bottle is snatched from my hand. “Heeeey!” I shout angrily, leaning forward to grab it back. I swipe my hand out so fast that I lose my balance and topple sideways, my shoulder slamming into the floor. “Garrett, help me get his drunk ass off of our porch.” It’s not until I glance up and see Parker standing over me with a scowl on her face that I remember that I’ve been sitting on her front porch for hours, waiting for her and Garrett to get home so I can kick both their asses. Thinking about kicking anyone’s ass in the shape I’m in is the funniest thing in the

451/629

world and I start to laugh as I feel hands slide under my armpits and haul me up. I keep laughing like an asshole when Garrett throws one of my arms over his shoulder and pulls me to my feet. Garrett keeps his arm around my waist, making sure I don’t fall over and it pisses me off. I stop laughing and shove him away from. “Get the fuck away from me!” I roar. “Give me my fucking bottle.” He steps back with his hands up in the air. “Calm down, brother. I think you’re done for the night.” “I am not your brother, you lying sack of shit!” I shout, taking a wobbly step in his direction.

452/629

Parker steps in between us and mimics Garrett with her palms up in a sign of peace. “Alright, that’s enough. How about we go inside and get you some coffee?” I scoff at her and shake my head, willing the puke to stay in my stomach when nausea rolls through me. “Fuck off, Parker.” The helpful, easy look on her face instantly turns hard and she glares at me. Garrett steps closer to her and she stops him with a hand on his chest. “It’s alright, I’ve got this,” she tells him, looking right at me when she says it. “That’s right, you’ve got it. Big, bad Parker is on the case, doing everything she can to protect that bitch of a friend and fucking me over in the process!” I shout.

453/629

I know I’m drunk and belligerent, but I don’t care. Once I get going, I can’t stop. “You guys told me just enough to keep me around, but you left out the most important part, didn’t you? I actually felt sorry for her! I felt guilty for leaving her and for leaving you when the entire time you were laughing behind my fucking back! Boy, you sure pulled a fast one on me, didn’t you? You were right, Garrett. The shit certainly hit the motherfucking fan tonight, but it’s fine. It’s totally fine because I’M the one who got the last laugh. That bitch deserves everything that’s happened to her for killing my kid!” The crack of Parker’s palm across my face is so sudden and unexpected that my head flies back and my vision is blurred with stars. I flex my jaw and bring my hand up to

454/629

the side of my face, rubbing it over the sting and the red mark I’m sure she left behind. The only good thing about it is that her smack instantly sobered me. The nausea and fuzzy head is gone, but the rage is back. The betrayal is fresh in my mind and screaming to get out. “Get him in the house and pour some coffee down his fucking throat,” Parker murmurs angrily to Garrett. “After that, we’re all going to sit down and have a nice, civilized chat about the bullshit that’s been spewing out of your mouth.” I clench my fists at my side, waiting to see if she’s going to hit me again. “I don’t need coffee and I don’t need to talk. I’ve heard enough tonight. My father is bat-fucking-shit crazy and my family has

455/629

been lying to me for years. On top of that, I find out she took money from my mother to have an abortion. But you already know all about that, don’t you, Parker?” Her mouth drops open and I continue. “That’s right, I know all about the ten thousand dollar check she cashed and how she had my fucking child ripped from her body two days later. Jesus Christ, she put on a good show though, didn’t she? Did you coach her, giving her tips on how to make the nightmares and the tears look real? Because let me tell you, she’s a great Goddamn actress. She had me fooled. And you two, with your high and mighty attitude about everything,” I laugh angrily. “You knew what she did. All that crap you fed me about how she’s been through enough and how I needed

456/629

to stand by her side no matter what. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? Did you honestly think knowing she took a bribe from my mother to get rid of my baby wouldn’t matter? That I’d stay with her after I found out she killed my child for ten grand? Jesus Christ, I trusted you! I trusted both of you and you FUCKED ME!” Parker doesn’t say a word as she stands here on the porch staring at me. Maybe she feels guilty. I was her friend first. I went to fucking war with her and I helped Garrett get his head out of his ass where she was concerned and she took her side over mine. The silence on the porch is interrupted by a loud crack of thunder off in the distance and we all turn and look at the sky in shock. Summertime storms are an anomaly in

457/629

California, so the streak of lighting I see makes the hair on my arms stand up. There’s something ominous about watching the electricity light up the dark sky. I guess it makes sense that the night my world goes to shit, something out of the ordinary happens to punctuate it. I see Garrett run his palms over his face out of the corner of my eye before he shakes his head in wonder. “What in the motherfuck is going on right now?” he whispers. I don’t know if he’s talking about the weather or about everything I just said and I don’t give a fuck. I came here to get drunk and tell them to fuck off. Mission accomplished.

458/629

I move around Parker to go down the steps but she grabs into my arm. “Nope, you’re not going anywhere on your own. Get in the fucking car. We’re going for a drive.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, I’m still questioning my decision to get in the car with Parker. She instructed Garrett to go find Olivia after a few calls to her cell phone went unanswered. I want to be pissed that they both care so much about Olivia’s well-being after what she did, but I’ve decided not to give a fuck. Not caring is much better than wanting to kill everyone I come in contact with.

459/629

That whole ‘not caring’ thing becomes more difficult when I glance out the front window of Parker’s SUV and see that she’s pulling into the driveway of our home. Not our home, HER home. This was never my home and I was a fool to think otherwise. Parker shuts off the vehicle and opens the door. I cross my arms in front of me like a child and refuse to get out. Olivia’s car isn’t here, so I know I won’t have to deal with looking at her lying face again, but there’s no fucking way I’m going in that house. What the fuck is the point? Does Parker think I’m going to wait here for her to come home? Does she want to play mediator or some shit?

460/629

“Get your ass out of the car, Cole,” Parker speaks quietly. “Fuck you, Parker,” I fire back. “I wouldn’t fuck you with my husband’s dick. You’re being a fucking asshole. Now, get the hell out of the car before I drag your big, drunk ass out and make a huge scene in front of the neighbors.” She gets out of the car and slams the door behind her. I watch through the windshield as she makes her way up to the front porch. A few drops of rain splatter against the window and I lean forward to look up at the sky, watching the lightning streak across it. Shit! Motherfucking SHIT!

461/629

If I don’t get out now, Parker will make good on her threat and haul my ass out of here, by which time it will be pouring. With a few more curses and a smack to the dashboard with my open palm, I angrily shove open the door and get out, dodging raindrops as I head up to the porch where Parker is waiting for me, cursing myself for being so damn stubborn and not having my crutches with me. She doesn’t say a word as she uses a key on her ring to unlock the door. The door that’s no longer bright, sunshiny yellow. The door she painted over because it hurt too much for her to have that last memory of me every time she came home. The look in her eyes when she told me she’d been pregnant flashes through my

462/629

mind. How broken and distraught she was when she stood in the living room wrapped in a towel, apologizing to me over and over. Was she apologizing for what she did or was it more than that? Did she apologize because she felt guilty or because she truly was sorry and regretted the abortion? Jesus, just thinking that word makes me want to lean over the porch railing and puke into the bushes. It’s so cold and clinical and it’s nothing like Olivia. I still have a hard time reconciling the woman I loved with the one who was capable of killing my child. I thought she was stronger than my mother and above any type of threats or bribes that would come her way. I follow behind Parker blindly, through the living room and down the hall, stopping

463/629

at a door right across from Olivia’s bedroom. I refuse to turn around and look through that open doorway and see the unmade bed, knowing her smell lingers on those sheets, remembering the way her body felt pressed against mine beneath those covers just days ago. All those nights of lying together in the dark, talking about the past and the future… all those times when she could have been honest with me and she chose, instead, to lie. “I’m going to guess that you haven’t been in this room since you’ve been back,” Parker speaks quietly, staring at the closed door in front of her. “Uh, no. It’s a spare bedroom. Olivia kept extra clothes and shit in there.” “She always keeps this door closed. As far as I know, she hasn’t been in here in

464/629

months. I told her I’d help her empty it out, but she wouldn’t let me,” Parker murmurs. I roll my eyes, wishing she’d get on with it already so we can get the fuck out of here and I can go back to drinking myself into a coma. Parker steps away from the door and gestures to it with her hand. “Go ahead. Open it.” I look at her in confusion for a minute, irritated that she won’t just fucking tell me why the hell she dragged me here. This cloak and dagger bullshit is pissing me off. With an annoyed huff, I grab onto the handle and turn it, pushing the door open. Parker reaches around me and flips the switch right inside the room and a small

465/629

lamp over by the window bathes the room in a soft glow. The sight in front of me makes my heart speed up and a small sob flies out of my mouth. I take a step into the room, then another, walking blindly as my eyes cloud with fucking tears. I don’t know whether to keep going or turn and run as fast as I can. Parker’s quiet voice behind me echoes in the room. “Sometimes the truth is too much to handle. It’s easier to lock it behind closed doors and pretend like it never happened.”

I FEEL A hand on my arm, shaking me awake, and I swat it away. I just want to be left alone. I don’t know when I fell asleep and I don’t care. My eyes are puffy from crying and my throat hurts. I curl myself tighter into a ball and ignore the familiar voice calling my name. “Come on, hon. Let’s get you up off the floor.”

467/629

I start to cry all over again when arms wrap around me and help me up. I look around the dark room, seeing Cole’s t-shirt flung over the end of the couch and his crutches leaning against the wall, and it makes me cry even harder. Every hateful word he said to me before he left echoes in my mind and I wrap my arms around my waist, bending over with the force of the pain flowing through me. I feel a gentle hand rubbing circles on my back and I still, cringing away from the contact. The very notion that a member of the Vargas family would offer me comfort is laughable after they’ve done everything in their power to destroy me, but the sympathy I see reflected in those eyes gives me pause. Then I recall the handful of interactions

468/629

we’ve had and the outright rage directed at me before it was quickly masked. My emotions are clouding my judgment and nothing makes sense anymore. “Why are you here? I know you don’t really like me,” I sob. I hear a chuckle and I stand, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “Maybe I’m here because I know what it’s like to be betrayed by the people you love. I’m not as crazy as everyone likes to think. There’s a reason for everything I’ve done.” I just want to leave, to run as far away from this family as possible. They’ve ruined everything and there’s nothing they can do to make up for it now. “Just tell me the truth,” I cry. “Who did it? You know who did this to me and Cole.”

469/629

Once upon a time, I thought this family would accept me. That fairytale died with my son. “You two just weren’t right for each other. Why couldn’t you see that?” I ignore the words, laced with malice, and move towards the door. I don’t want to be here anymore, surrounded by Cole’s things, in a house with someone who clearly hates me. Has always hated me. A hand clamps down on my arm, yanking me backwards. I stumble and my moment of weakness is used against me, strong arms coming up to wrap around me and hold me in place. “You and I are going for a little drive. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

470/629

The fake cheer in that voice covers up the anger and I struggle to get away. “I am not going anywhere with you!” I shout, managing to free myself as I lunge for the door. “Oh, no you don’t!” I hear followed by an eerie, sinister laugh. My hand wraps around the handle just as something hard slams into the back of my head. Everything around me goes black as my body crumbles and I see the floor rushing towards my face.

“WHAT THE FUCK is going on?” I whisper, staring around the room. My eyes focus on the crib in front of me, made up with blue, white and green bedding with monkeys on it. A blue blanket neatly covers the sheet, folded down at the top as if it’s just waiting for someone to curl up underneath it.

472/629

Why the hell would she buy all of these things and set up a room for a baby that was never going to sleep here? A baby that was only in existence for seven weeks? “Not seven weeks, seven months.” My head whips around to stare at Parker and I realize I said those words out loud. “What… what the hell are you talking about?” I stutter, my heart just about ready to explode out of my chest. Instead of answering me, Parker walks over to the small table next to the bed and opens a drawer, pulling out a photo album. She walks back over to me, holding the album out in front of her. All the anger from earlier is gone. Her eyes are soft and filling with tears. She nods

473/629

at me, and pushes the album closer. “Take it.” I swallow thickly, reaching out and grabbing it. I look away from her as I flip open the first page, a grainy black and white photo stuck behind the see-thru page. I feel Parker move next to me as she looks over my shoulder. “That’s the day she had the pregnancy confirmed. See, right at the top.” She points to the computer printed numbers in the white border that reads: Olivia Lafierre, 6w3d. “There’s not really much to see in that picture but a tiny little bean,” she says, flipping to the next page.

474/629

The following picture is similar to the one before but the ‘bean’ is larger and you can actually make out features. “See right there?” she asks, pointing to the middle of the black and white photo. “Those are the eyes and those right there are the teeny, tiny little hands.” It sort of resembles an alien to me, but I can make out exactly what she’s pointing to. Hands, legs, feet—things that I shouldn’t be able to see on an ultrasound of a baby less than seven weeks old. There’s also a computer-generated arrow pointing between the legs. “That’s the day she found out what she was having,” Parker says wistfully.

475/629

She flips to the next page for me because I’m shaking so fucking hard I can’t seem to get my hands to cooperate. The next picture takes my breath away and another sob makes its way out of my mouth. Olivia is standing in this very room with a paintbrush in her hands, dripping with blue paint. One finger of her other hand is pointing to her stomach where there is an obvious bump sticking out against her tight shirt. Her face is lit up with a huge smile. Above the picture, in Olivia’s flowing handwriting are the words ‘It’s a boy!’ I choke on my sobs as Parker turns the pages for me, one after another of Olivia, her stomach growing bigger in each photo. There’s a picture of her and Parker putting

476/629

together the crib, one of her and Garrett sitting on the couch in their home, Garrett holding up a bottle of beer and Olivia holding up a glass of milk, one of Olivia sitting in the rocking chair in the corner with her hands resting on her basketball sized stomach, her eyes staring down at it with a soft smile on her face. This is the one that cuts me right in half. I bring my hand up to the page and trace my finger over her stomach. “She hated herself every day for being so scared in the beginning,” Parker says. “The first time she felt him kick, all her fears disappeared. You always knew when he was moving around in there because she’d get this sappy, faraway look in her eyes while she held her hands against her stomach.”

477/629

Parker chuckles at the memory and I wish I could laugh with her, but nothing about this is funny, nothing about this is happy or good. The things I said to her… the things I accused her of… the way I took her against that fucking wall like she was nothing to me… Jesus Christ, what have I done? “I don’t understand. I saw the medical report for the abortion. I saw the cashed check,” I mumble, watching as a tear splashes down on the picture, blurring Olivia’s face. “You mean that check?” Parker asks, pointing at the wall over the crib. My eyes follow her finger and I hand off the photo album before walking forward, stopping when I reach the bed where my son

478/629

should be sleeping. Resting my hands on the railing of the crib, I try to make sense of what the fuck I’m seeing. In a black frame, hanging on the wall over the crib is the check my mother showed me earlier. This one isn’t a photocopy though; this is the real thing with original handwriting in blue ink. “She wanted to rip it up into little pieces and mail it back to your mother, but I wouldn’t let her. I told her that damn check is a reminder of just how much better she is than that woman. I bought a frame and hung it up for her.” Running my hands through my hair, I turn and start pacing the floor. “The medical report. How the fuck could she fake that?

479/629

Three different doctors signed off on that Goddamn report. THREE doctors, Parker!” I realize I’m yelling, but I don’t care. My entire life has been turned ass over teakettle twice today, I feel like I’m going insane and I don’t know what the fuck to believe anymore. Parker calmly flips to the very last page in the photo album, pulling out a folded piece of paper and handing it to me. I snatch it out of her hands and open it up. “Did the report your mother give you look anything like this?” The bottom-half of the report is exactly the same, with the same three doctors’ signatures, but the top part is completely different. I read the information written in the middle of the page out loud.

480/629

“Pre-term labor brought on by unforeseen circumstances at twenty-eight weeks gestation. Terbutaline treatment to stop contractions unsuccessful. Fetal ultrasound concluded underdeveloped lung tissue. Antenatal Corticosteroids for fetal lung development immediately administered. Labor progressed rapidly. Delivery occurred at 19:27.” It’s so quiet in the room you could hear a pin drop. I hate the quiet. It gives me too much time to think, to process and to hate myself. “She was having a little trouble with preeclampsia, high blood pressure, and her OB told her to take a few days off of work, but you know how she is. She’s blamed herself every single day since. Even when we had proof that someone spiked her tea with a

481/629

drug that induces labor, I could see it in her eyes that she still hadn’t forgiven herself.” I close my eyes, the report crumpling in my clenched fist. “My mother,” I whisper. “We believe so,” Parker replies. “Olivia had a meeting with her that morning and your mom pushed a cup of herbal tea on her. Five minutes later, she was in pre-term labor. The doctors managed to slow it down and we actually thought for a while that she was in the clear. Olivia was completely exhausted after that ordeal, but she remembers seeing your mother in the doorway to her room when she was trying to rest. Almost immediately afterwards, there was another spike in her contractions, and the doctors weren’t able to stop them the second time. I

482/629

broke into the hospital a while back, got the records and gave Olivia the report tonight. It showed your mother’s I.D. being used to take out the medication needed to induce labor right before she met with her that morning. It also showed her entering the maternity floor right before Olivia’s contractions started for a second time. Obviously, she fudged the reports on her end and made it look like Olivia took out the Pitocin and administered it to herself. A few days after the baby was born, HR came into her room and told her they wouldn’t press charges if she left quietly. She was so upset and exhausted that she didn’t even care about fighting with them.” I lean my back against the wall next to the crib and stare off into space. Olivia

483/629

blamed herself for losing the baby. I know now that’s why she kept apologizing to me the day she told me she’d been pregnant. That’s why she told me she felt guilty. She blamed herself and I fed her fears by accusing her of killing our baby. I fucking looked right at her and called her a murderer. I told her not to speak because I couldn’t stand the sound of her voice spewing more lies. She was never lying, not once. Instead of forcing her to tell me everything, I let her keep the pain and guilt bottled up inside her. I knew she wasn’t telling me everything, but I never thought it would be something like this. “The drug your mother gave her caused her labor to progress so rapidly that she wasn’t able to get an epidural. Olivia was in labor for a total of ten hours, Cole. For ten

484/629

hours, she screamed and she cried and she called your name.” I clench my hands into my hair and squeeze as hard as I can. “STOP! Please, I can’t…” “Fuck you, Cole! She was alone! She was fucking alone and scared and in so much pain. Garrett and I were out of town and we couldn’t get to her. I had the doctor videoconference me in just so she wouldn’t feel like she didn’t have anyone there for her. I saw it all and Goddammit, you’re going to hear it all!” Parker shouts. “She was so fucking exhausted, but she kept going. Her hair was plastered to her face with sweat and her body was shaking, but she kept going because she knew it would all be worth it in the end. I helped her count through the

485/629

contractions and I told her everything would be okay, but it wasn’t okay! That beautiful, dark-haired little boy came out of her and the room was completely silent. Do you have any idea what it’s like to sit there, waiting for your baby to make a sound, to scream and live and breathe, but nothing happens? Your body is so fucking tired and in so much pain all you want to do is cry, but you can’t because everything you have, everything you are is wrapped up in the tiny little bundle they’ve placed in your arms but is struggling to breathe because his bronchial tubes aren’t mature enough yet.” I slide down the wall until I hit the floor, not even trying to hide my sobs. They wrack my body and roar out of me with each word that Parker shouts.

486/629

“I watched her run her fingers through the hair on his little head before they snatched him out of her arms and started CPR. It wasn’t until that very moment she realized something was wrong. I can’t get her fucking screams of agony out of my head, Cole. I can’t. She cried and she begged them to save him and, I swear to God, it was the worst fucking sound in the world. While they hooked him up to oxygen and pumped his little chest, she just sobbed and told him she loved him and begged him not to leave her. I was helpless. I couldn’t do anything but sit there in that fucking hotel room and watch her heart break in front of me on a fucking computer screen.” I hear Parker sniffle and I wish I had it in me to comfort her, but I don’t. I have

487/629

nothing left. There’s a giant, gaping hole where my heart used to be. I don’t understand why my fucking chest hurts so bad when there’s nothing left inside it. My tears are falling fast and my throat aches so bad I can hardly swallow. “I didn’t even realize something else was wrong,” Parker continues. “I was so focused on the crowd of people hovering around the bassinet, willing him to take a breath that I didn’t notice all the blood. Jesus, there was so much blood. When the doctors started racing around the room, shouting orders and yelling for help, that’s when I saw it. It was practically pouring out of her. The bed and the whole bottom half of her was covered in blood and they couldn’t get it to stop. I watched her head flop back onto the bed and

488/629

the heart monitor flat lined. I screamed and one of the nurses finally realized I was still on video. She ran over to the computer, hit a button and my scream went dark. I had to take a four hour flight, not knowing if she was dead or alive.” I watched King and Dragon die, knowing in my heart that would be the worst fucking moment of my life, but I was wrong. I feel dead inside, completely numb outside of the ache in my head from the tears I can’t seem to stop. I keep replaying the scenes Parker described over and over in my head. I can see Olivia holding our son in her arms, screaming for him to breathe as they snatch him away. I have no idea how Olivia managed to get up and go on day after day. I didn’t live through it and I want to die. Her

489/629

strength humbles me. Olivia offering me her heart and her body after I walked away and left her to go through hell alone is a miracle that I’ll never understand and don’t deserve. Recalling the look on her face after I accused her of killing our baby, I realize that I’m the Vargas who finally destroyed Olivia. Nothing my family did to her could’ve hurt as much as what I’ve done. I ruined her. This beautiful, amazing, strong woman who went through so much… I took all of that good and I wrecked it. She’ll never forget that I believed my mother’s lies, accepting her twisted version of the truth as fact without giving Olivia an opportunity to defend herself. She’ll never forgive me for the things I said to her or the way I used her body in spite and anger. I don’t deserve her

490/629

forgiveness, anyway. I hurt her once and I’ll never forgive myself for that, but this time, I broke her. I’ve spent my entire life trying to outrun my family’s legacy, but as it turns out, I’m exactly fucking like them. I deserve to suffer, imagining in my mind the pain she went through, knowing all the while it’s only a fraction of what she felt and will never be enough. I’m startled out of my thoughts by the ringing of Parker’s cell phone. Pulling it out of her pocket, she wipes away her tears before she answers and I watch her face fall and her mouth drop open. “I’m still with him. We’ll be right there. Call the fucking police.”

491/629

I struggle to get up off the floor and Parker gives me her hand, pulling me up next to her. “What the fuck is going on?” “Garrett’s at your place. Olivia’s car is still there, but she’s not. Your office is a disaster area, like someone tore the room to shreds in a hurry.” Ice flows through my veins and panic bubbles in my chest. Parker’s next words bring a whole new meaning to the word fear. “He found blood by the front door. He thinks someone took her.”

I FEEL WATER on my face and I blink a few times, bringing my hand up to wipe it off, but it just keeps coming. Opening my eyes fully, a sharp pain shoots through my head as I press my hands to the ground to push myself up, wondering why I’m lying in wet grass. Slowly looking towards the sky, I realize the water I’m feeling is rain. It’s coming down slowly, big fat raindrops splashing against

493/629

my face before falling down and off my chin. I see a flash of lightning across the sky, quickly followed by the rumble of thunder and I know I need to get inside. We don’t see many thunderstorms here, but I know enough to get in out of the rain when it happens. I gingerly push myself up onto my knees, trying not to jar my aching head, wondering what the hell happened and why I’m outside. When I finally get to my feet, I turn around slowly and notice the wooden frame of a partially constructed building a few feet away from me, the plastic covering some of the wood flapping in the wind and smacking against the beams. Taking in the tractor and bulldozer parked next to the structure, I realize I’m at some sort of construction site.

494/629

The rain starts falling faster now, plastering my hair to my face and neck and my clothes to my body. I bring my hand up to my head to try and quell the pounding. Where the hell am I? What happened? My mind is full of flashes of words and people, but I can’t make anything fit together. “Ahhhh, she’s finally awake.” Startled, my head jerks towards the sound of the voice, the pain bringing on a wave of dizziness. I breathe deeply through my nose, trying to steady myself. When my vision clears, I see the vague outline of someone standing in the middle of the structure, protected from the rain by a small roof that juts out in front.

495/629

Everything comes rushing back to me so quickly that my knees threaten to give out. The look on Cole’s face, the words he threw at me, waking up on the floor of his house and coming face to face with the devil who ruined our lives. My hand clutches the back of my head and I rub the knot left behind from the blow delivered as I tried to escape. I shiver as the wind picks up and the thunder and lightning rumble and flash all around me, one right after another. The idea of being any closer to the evil that lurks in the shadows makes my blood run cold, but I know I can’t stand out here in this storm. “So, how do you like the house? It’s nice, isn’t it? Well, I guess you can’t really tell right now, but I’ve seen the floor plans and

496/629

it’s going to be amazing when it’s finished,” I hear over the hard pounding of the rain. I watch arms spread, the shadows giving the vague perception of a bat’s wings unfurling, as the source of my anguish indicates the structure before me, speaking as if it’s just another day and this is the most natural thing in the world. “He was building this house for you, did you know that? As soon as he got home, he purchased the land and contacted the construction company. I thought it was a pretty stupid move since he didn’t even know if you’d speak to him again, but he didn’t care. Cole had love in his eyes and you are the only thing he cared about. Isn’t that the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard? How many

497/629

times did we tell him to do something with his life and yet, this is what he chose?” I want to allow those words to warm me, knowing that Cole planned for a future with me before we even saw each other again. Suddenly realizing exactly where I am, I have to shut down the urge to cry. We drove by this piece of land a year ago, right before he left for the Dominican. I saw the For Sale sign and I made him stop the car, hopping out before he even put it in park. A half-acre right on the cliffs, overlooking the ocean, it was completely perfect and I told him we should build a house here. We stood on the edge, looking down at the waves crashing against the rocks as he wrapped his arms around me and told me he’d give me anything I asked for.

498/629

I take a few steps back, figuring I’d rather get struck by lightning than move any closer to the shelter of the roof and the person standing under it. My feet come to a halt when another flash of lightning spotlights the object pointed right at me. “It would probably be wise for you to come in out of the rain, Olivia. Might as well check out your dream home before I put you out of your misery.” I see movement and hear the ominous sound of the slide being pulled back on the gun and a bullet entering the chamber. Swallowing nervously, I wish more than anything that Cole was here right now, but I know that isn’t going to happen. He’s been poisoned with lies for years and, when it counted

499/629

most, he believed them, not even offering me a chance to explain. We thought we knew who the real head of the Vargas family was, but we had it all wrong. Neither of us had any idea who was actually pulling the strings. I realize as I slowly make my way through the rain that the puppet master wins in the end. I know I’m walking towards my death, but I don’t have any other choice and, at this point, maybe I deserve it. I’d much rather die, surrounded by the house Cole started building us when he still loved me than live in a world where his eyes are full of hate as he accuses me of killing our son.

“SO, THE LAST time you had contact with the suspected victim was around 8:45 pm, is that correct?” “OLIVIA! Her name is fucking OLIVIA and she’s not a suspected victim, for Christ’s sake. Get your head out of your ass and find her!” Garrett grabs my upper arms and pulls me away from the police officer, who

501/629

continues to glare at me as he jots down information. “Take a breath, man. They’re doing everything they can,” Garrett tells me as he pulls me out of the living room and into the kitchen. My house is swarming with people dusting for prints, taking pictures and asking the same damn questions over and over. “We’re lucky these people even showed up. They don’t bat an eye if a person hasn’t been missing for at least twenty-four hours, so be thankful the police chief owes me a few favors. I know you’re freaking the fuck out, but it’s not helping things.” I walk over to the kitchen table and rest my hands on top of it, letting my head drop between my shoulders. My knee is fucking killing me after being off of my crutches all

502/629

day and the numbness from all the alcohol I consumed earlier has worn off. “Did Parker find anything at my parent’s house?” I ask quietly, trying to calm the panic raging inside of me. “No. She just sent me a text. The officer she took over there searched the house and no one is home. All the cars are gone and no one is answering their cell phones, either. Tell me this, why the hell do people have cell phones if they never fucking answer them?” Garrett tries to make a joke, but I don’t have it in me to laugh. I just want to find her. At this point, I’m not even concerned with all of the apologies I need to give her. I just want to know that she’s safe. I hear a commotion in the living room followed by one of the officers informing

503/629

someone that they are disturbing a crime scene and asking them to leave. Garrett and I share a confused look before we move quickly out of the kitchen and back into the living room. I stop short when I see who’s standing in the doorway, the very same officer I just chewed out blocking his entry. “Dad, what are you doing here?” My father looks over the officer’s shoulder at me, irritation written all over his face. “Will you kindly tell this young man that I’m not a stranger, that I own this house and have every right to be here?” Garrett puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes, a gentle warning for me to keep it together when all I want to do is rage at

504/629

everyone around me, including my father, who is supposed to be locked away in a mental hospital. I have no idea if it’s safe to let him in the house, but I’m guessing he won’t be able to do too much damage surrounded by a bunch of heavily armed police officers and two former Navy SEALs. I motion to the cop, who silently steps to the side as my father brushes past him with a scowl on his face. “What the hell is going on? Why are there police cars lining the driveway and making a mess of my damn house?” my father asks as he approaches me and Garrett. “I think a better question would be, why are you out of the hospital?” I fire back. He huffs, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms in front of him. “I told her she was

505/629

just going to make it worse by altering the truth, but she wouldn’t listen. She’s been pissed at me for years and I went along with this asinine scheme of hers because she said it was the only way for her to save face. Hell, a part of me felt guilty for putting her through what I did, so I let her do whatever she wanted. It’s not like I planned on ever coming back, so it didn’t matter to me one way or another what everyone thought.” I’m growing more and more confused the longer he talks and I wonder if I should ask one of the officers for a straight jacket or some shit. He’s not making any sense and it’s becoming more and more apparent that he really has lost his mind. “I’m not the crazy one, so wipe that look off your face,” he snaps.

506/629

“Dad, I don’t have time for this shit right now. Olivia is missing and she might be hurt. If you know something about that, you better fucking come clean.” The anger in his face morphs into worry. “You have to understand, I thought she was doing better. I really thought she’d moved on and all the hatred and jealousy was finished. The doctors thought they’d finally found the right combination of medicine for her and everything was looking better and better. I didn’t think it would hurt to pull a few strings and get Olivia hired as your nurse. I mean, this family did a number on her and it was my way of trying to make things right again. I know I wasn’t the best husband or father. I know I cared more about work than my family. It’s a tough pill to swallow when

507/629

you get to be my age and realize your entire life was one big joke.” I watched as he took a seat on the couch, slouching back on the cushions in defeat, looking nothing like the formidable man who intimidated me as a child. “Jesus, son, didn’t you wonder why none of your relationships ever worked out? Those women headed for the hills faster than you could blink. Until Olivia. She’s a firecracker, that one. When we met her that day at the restaurant, I couldn’t help but smile, knowing she was going to fuck everything up. She wouldn’t be easy to bribe or threaten and I liked that about her. I also knew that it wouldn’t end well for her, so I went along with the plan because it was the only way to keep her safe. It was stupid and foolish, but

508/629

it was the only thing we knew how to do. We’d been covering this shit up for years, hiding the truth from everyone.” I’m shaking my head back and forth, not really believing what he’s saying, but something inside of me knows it’s the truth. “What did you do? What the hell did you do?” I whisper angrily. He clears his throat uncomfortably and refuses to look me in the eye. “We tried to get her to leave town, to forget about you and just move on. It was easy enough with the handful of other women you’ve dated through the years, so we figured it would work out the same way with Olivia. The pregnancy threw a wrench in everything, though. It made her angrier, more volatile and dangerous. We didn’t know what she

509/629

was capable of until it was too late. When I tell you that we thought she was doing better, I really mean it. When she found out about that baby, everything blew up in our faces. We wanted Olivia to leave, to go away before she found out, but that girl wouldn’t budge. When we found out she went into labor early, we knew. We knew what she’d done, but it was too late to fix things. All we did by trying to hide the truth was make it worse.” “Jesus Christ,” Garrett mutters from behind me. “I came here hoping she’d be here, hoping she wasn’t going to do something stupid. She completely lost it earlier when we went to visit her, but they put her on lock down and we thought that was the end of it. We

510/629

can’t repair the damage she’s caused, but we were hoping we could keep her from doing something worse than what she’s already accomplished. I got a call a few hours ago that she’d somehow gotten out and I knew. I knew she’d come back here to finish it.” I sink down into the chair across from my father and wonder when the hell everyone around me went crazy. Lies and conspiracies, cover-ups and jealousies that I can’t even comprehend… is this really my life right now? “Where is she, Charles? Where the hell is Vivien?” Garrett questions. My father looks up at him in confusion. “Vivien? How the hell would I know? I’m talking about Caroline.”

511/629

He leans forward on the couch and his eyes meet mine. “Your sister is sick. Very, very sick. Your mother just wanted to protect you. And her. In her own twisted way, she thought she was doing what was best and I went along with it. I should have put an end to this damn charade a long time ago. I should have never let it get as far as it did. You, Olivia and that baby, you all paid the price for our mistakes and you have no idea how sorry I am for that.” I think about every memory I have of Caroline, from the day they brought her home from foster care to our conversation this morning. She’s always been possessive of me and my time, but I never thought it was anything more than a younger sister, older brother, hero-worship sort of thing.

512/629

She looked up to me and she needed me and I loved every minute of it. I loved being needed by someone when my parents were too busy with their own lives to care. I guess I didn’t allow myself to see the jealousy in her eyes when I introduced her to someone I was dating, but it was there. It was always there. She wanted to be friends with Olivia the very first time she met her, to hang out with us whenever she was in town. Her snide comments when I was affectionate towards Olivia or when we talked about our future always made me laugh and roll my eyes at her. How in the hell did I miss her rage and jealousy? Why didn’t I see the evil boiling underneath the surface? All those shopping trips, all those vacations over the years that she laughed off and my parents complained

513/629

about… those were the times she was locked away so the doctors could try and fix her. Not my father, Caroline. Why did they lie? Why would my mother create such an elaborate story about my father being insane when all this time it was Caroline? “Excuse me, sir?” I look up at one of the police officers standing next to my chair. “We just went through the mess in the office down the hall and it looks like someone set a fire in the garbage can next to the desk. It must’ve burned out pretty quick because some of the pieces are still in tact. Does this look like something the perpetrator might have been looking for?”

514/629

My heart skips a beat when he says the word “perpetrator,” knowing that he’s referring to my sister. My fucking sister! I grab the paper out of his hands, the edges charred and a few pieces of ash falling away and onto my lap. I stare at what’s left of the paper in my hand, recognizing the blue graph lines and measurements immediately. “I know where she took her. FUCK! I know where she took her!” I yell, throwing the burnt page to the ground and pushing myself up from the chair. I hear Garrett calling my name, but I ignore him. I forget about the pain in my knee and I move as fast as I can out the door and into the rain, racing to my car.

“YOU GOT WHAT you wanted, Caroline. Cole doesn’t want anything to do with me. You don’t have to do this,” I plead with her as we stand under the roof, out of the pouring rain. She has the gun pointed at my chest and I know there’s no reasoning with her, but I can’t help it. Fight or flight has kicked in. I can’t flee, but I sure as hell can try to fight.

516/629

“Oh please. Like he isn’t going to come running back to you the first chance he gets. I was the one who stood by him all these years, ME! Not our mother, not our father, but me. Then you had to come along and fuck it all up. You, with your dark skin and hair… nothing like the little blonde twits he brought home all those years. This house should be mine. You don’t deserve it. I DESERVE IT!” Her angry shout echoes through the shell of the house and is punctuated with a loud clap of thunder. “God, do you have any idea how good it felt standing in the hallway of the hospital, watching you scream in pain, knowing I was the one who made it happen?” she asks with a laugh.

517/629

I can’t hide the shocked look on my face and Caroline laughs even harder. “Oh, my God! Did you still think it was my mother? Oh, that’s good. That’s really good.” She continues laughing and I want to smack the smile right off of her face. Caroline takes a step towards me and presses the nose of the gun into my sternum. “It was so fucking easy taking my mother’s I.D. card, it’s pathetic. She leaves that thing lying around, just begging for someone to steal it. I wasn’t sure exactly how I’d get that Pitocin in you, but my mother graciously informed me that you were coming up to her office for a little chat about the bastard you were carrying and refused to get rid of. My stupid mother wanted to make amends. She thought I was over my infatuation with Cole

518/629

and she thought it was safe to bring you into the family. I knew damn well she’d offer you tea. That woman loves her fucking tea. She never actually drinks it, but she thinks it makes her look refined and sophisticated when she talks about that damn tea that she has flown in from God knows where. Her assistant brought in a fresh pot right before my father dragged me out of there and all I had to do was squirt just enough into the carafe while the two of them were busy arguing about what to do with me now that I was ‘healthy’.” Caroline pokes the gun harder into my chest and I wince. “My parents never really knew how to handle me. They tried therapy when I was younger, but it didn’t make me complacent

519/629

enough for dear old Mom and Dad. They thought turning me into a zombie with medication would make everything better, but that only worked for a little while. When the meds quit having the desired effect, they had me hospitalized. They didn’t understand that taking me away from Cole made everything worse.” While she’s busy spilling her secrets, I contemplate wrapping my hands around the muzzle of the gun and trying to wrestle it away from her. It’s clearly not the brightest idea I’ve ever had, but I don’t know what else to do. If she keeps talking, maybe she’ll get distracted enough to loosen her grip on the gun. “Cole loves you so much. How could you hurt him like this?” I ask softly.

520/629

“Hurt HIM? I never hurt him. I tried to help him. He’s the one who hurt me, over and over. He didn’t understand. I had to make him understand.” I glance down at the gun and quickly back up at Caroline, hoping she didn’t notice. “Understand what? What did you have to make him understand?” “THAT YOU WERE NOTHING TO HIM! I’m the one he’s supposed to be with. I’m the one he’s supposed to love and build a future with; build a home for. Not you! What the fuck could you ever give him? You can’t even give him children!” she scoffs. “I can’t give him children because of YOU!” I shout back, no longer worried about keeping calm. “You took everything from me!”

521/629

“That’s right, I took it all because it was supposed to be mine!” She screams back. “God, my parents were so fucking stupid, especially my mother. Poor, clueless woman not even realizing that her husband has been fucking around on her for years. He actually let her tell Cole that HE was the crazy one because he thought it would make up for the fact that he was a lying, cheating bastard. He took the heat because he was moving out, leaving all of us to go start a new family somewhere else. He didn’t care if his reputation was shot to hell because he didn’t care about any of us.” Jesus, lies on top of lies. Who needs enemies when Cole has a family like this? “She thought she could just sweep this all under the rug, make up a few lies, throw

522/629

me back in another hospital and I’d go away quietly, just like she’s always done. But it’s not going to work this time. I’m not going to LET it work this time. You got in the way and you turned Cole against me. When he came back from that last mission, I knew it was finally my turn. You and your bastard child were out of the picture and he could finally be mine, but you just keep showing up like a bad fucking penny, don’t you, Olivia?” Caroline moves the gun away from my chest and I let out the breath I’ve been holding, but my relief is short-lived as she moves the barrel up and presses it into my forehead. “Any last words before I end your miserable life? I have to say, it’s kind of nice that you’re going to die knowing Cole hates you.

523/629

I’ve got to hand it to my mother; all those documents forged to look like you took her bribe and had an abortion were sort of genius. At least she did one thing right. Cole will spend the rest of his life disgusted at the very thought of you and I’ll be right here to pick up the pieces.” I try to hold back the sob but it’s no use. My tears mix with the rain on my cheeks as I squeeze my eyes closed and wait for the explosion of the gun. I find solace in the knowledge that I’ll see my little boy soon, that I’ll be able to hold him and kiss his cheeks and tell him how very sorry I am that he never had a chance at life. I find myself wishing, not for the first time, that Cole could have seen him, even if only for a moment. I wish he understood that I could have never, ever

524/629

gotten rid of that precious little boy that was a perfect combination of the two of us and represented everything good and beautiful about our love. I know Garrett and Parker will fight for him to know the truth after I’m gone. Parker will show him the nursery that I kept locked away behind a closed door and the photo album documenting the seven months I spent scared to death, but happier than I had ever been in my life. She’ll tell Cole the story of how I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy with his dark hair and dimples and my blue eyes and how I never, ever let him go even after they took him from my arms. She’ll tell him that my heart stopped beating for a little while that day and it never really started back up again until Cole came back into my life.

525/629

I pray to God he doesn’t blame himself for what happens tonight. His family twisted everything inside his mind until he didn’t know what to believe. I hope he knows I forgive him for the things he said to me and realizes that this is not his fault. “Cole Garrett Lafierre,” I whisper quietly to myself. “Shut up,” Caroline barks, her fist slamming against my mouth to try and quiet me. “Cole Garrett Lafierre, Cole Garrett Lafierre, Cole Garrett Lafierre,” I speak over and over, spitting the blood from my mouth and letting his name on my lips push aside all of my fears. I’ve never said his name out loud. I wrote it on his birth certificate, I traced my fingers over its etching on the headstone, but I never allowed myself to breathe his name. I

526/629

let it flow out of me, my voice growing louder and louder each time I say it. “What the fuck are you mumbling about?” Caroline asks angrily. I keep my eyes closed and say it one last time. “Cole Garrett Lafierre, my son, Cole’s son. You can kill me, but you can never, EVER take that away from me,” I sob, a sad smile on my face as I wait for it to happen. A loud crack of thunder shakes the ground around us and I silently beg for Caroline to hurry up and end it already. “Put the gun down, Caroline. Please, don’t make me do this.” I feel the gun move away from my head and my eyes fly open. Caroline turns and points the gun behind her.

527/629

Directly at her mother. “Please, baby,” Vivien cries. “I’m sorry.” She looks at me as she apologizes and I see the anguish on her face. She’s holding a gun in her hand, pointed right at her own daughter. A daughter who ruined lives and forced her to pile lie on top of lie to protect her, but still her daughter. The little girl she raised and had so many hopes and dreams for. No mother should be put in this position no matter what she’s done to bring it on herself. “Go away, Mother. I’ve got this handled,” Caroline huffs. She starts to swing the gun back in my direction, but the click of Vivien turning off the safety on the gun makes Caroline pause.

528/629

“I’m so sorry, Olivia. You have no idea how sorry I am,” Vivien sobs. “I know it’s my fault that you’ll never get to be a mother and I will never forgive myself for that, but you have to understand how hard it is to not do everything you can to protect your child. I just wanted her to get better. I just wanted my little girl back.” “Will you stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Caroline complains. “Oh, baby. Why are you doing this? Please, just put the gun down. Please, don’t make me do this.” I swallow back the tears as I watch the struggle tear through Vivien. I take a step back, away from Caroline, while she’s busy staring angrily at her mother.

529/629

“There’s nothing you need to do, Mother. I told you, I’ve got it all under control. Go back home where you can continue trying to control things that are out of your control and leave me the fuck alone,” Caroline shouts. I turn to run just as Caroline starts to aim the gun back in my direction. I take off running as fast as I can into the pouring rain, hearing Vivien scream at the top of her lungs. “Oh, God, please forgive me!” The explosion of a gun roars louder than the thunder crashing all around me. My body jerks before I fall to the ground, splashing into the sopping wet grass and mud.

GARRETT IS DRIVING so fast that my shoulder slams painfully against the passenger door when he jerks the steering wheel to the left to pull into the gravel drive. He got us here in record time, dodging the assholes and idiots in this fucking city who don’t know how to navigate the hilly roads in the pouring rain but don’t have the sense to stay off of them, either.

531/629

I’m out of the car and racing through the rain before Garrett even gets the car in park, ignoring the tug and sharp pains radiating through my knee. I don’t care if I reopen the incision and I don’t care if I wrench it so badly that I’ll never walk again. All I care about is getting to Olivia. As I make my way across the wet grass of the front yard trying not to slip and fall while the thunder booms around me, I hear a gunshot and my heart stops. “OLIVIA!” I scream through the wind and rain, moving faster as the partially finished house looms in front of me. My whole body shakes with a combination of fear and cold, the chill of the rain soaking my skin and clothes as my eyes search frantically for Olivia. I hear Garrett

532/629

stomping through the puddles behind me and the distant sound of sirens. The police were right behind us when we left the house, but Garrett quickly lost them in the mess of traffic by flying through red lights and pretty much disobeying every single traffic law known to man. I crash through the plastic that covers what will eventually be the front door, moving through the skeleton of the house and trying not to think about the fact that I might never get to tell Olivia it’s all for her. I stop short when I see my mother standing under the partially constructed roof of what’s going to be the back deck, her back towards me as she stares towards the cliffs in the back yard. It’s dark and the rain is coming down too hard for me to make out what

533/629

she’s looking at and my heart stutters with fear. Jesus Christ, please let her be okay, please let her be okay. “Mom?” I say softly so I don’t spook her. She doesn’t turn around, but I can see her shoulders shaking and heaving and I know she’s crying. Both of her arms hang limply at her sides and my stomach fills with dread when I see the gun clutched in her right hand. I slowly inch my way closer to her, trying to see around her and out into the yard. When I get closer, I can hear her mumbling something over and over as the rain beats down around us in what would normally be a calming rhythm. Nothing about

534/629

this situation is calming. My heart is racing and my stomach is churning with fear. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, oh God, I’m sorry.” Her monotone voice as she whispers the words to herself while she stares blindly out into the yard makes my skin crawl. I don’t want to see what she’s looking at. I don’t want to know what she’s sorry for. I don’t even have it in me to care about her. All of my worry and fears are wrapped up in Olivia and there isn’t room for anything else. When I’m right behind her, I slowly lift my eyes out into the yard. “No. Please, no.” My sister, my vibrant, fun-loving sister, who I still can’t believe is responsible for all of the pain and destruction in our lives, is lying face down in the wet, muddy grass just

535/629

beyond the cover of the porch roof. Her feet are hooked on the edge of the wood floor as if she was just standing there and then tipped forward onto the ground. The rain mixes with the blood seeping from the hole in the middle of her back, soaking her shirt and turning the white silk varying shades of red. I don’t have time to try and wrap my head around the fact that she’s gone and that my family has just been broken beyond repair, because a few feet away, lying in the same position, is Olivia. My legs shake and my eyes fill with tears as I step down off of the porch and around the lifeless body of my sister. I take off running, screaming Olivia’s name as I slip across

536/629

the wet grass as I fall down on my hands and knees right next to her. As soon as my hands touch her body, her head lifts up and she cranes her neck, looking back over her shoulder at me. When her eyes meet mine, I sob with relief, flipping her body over and crashing her to my chest. “You’re okay, you’re okay. Fuck, I thought I’d lost you,” I cry, burying my face into the curve of her neck as she throws her arms around my shoulders and holds me tight, her body shaking with tears as she holds onto me. I pull back to stare at her face, drinking in the sight of her as I memorize every single feature. My blood boils when I see a bruise on her cheek and a cut on her lip that’s

537/629

oozing blood, mixing with the rain and dripping down her chin. “It’s okay, I’m okay. Cole, look at me,” she demands, grabbing onto my face and pulling my eyes away from the marks on her beautiful skin. “Your mother,” she says firmly when our eyes meet. “I don’t give a fuck about my mother. Just let me hold you, let me make sure you’re okay,” I argue. I try to pull her body back to mine, beyond grateful that she’s alive and in my arms, but she moves her hands to my chest and stops me. “I’m fine. I swear to you, I’m okay. Cole, please. No matter what she’s done, no matter what part she had in all of this, she’s still your mother.”

538/629

I glance away, but she grabs onto my face and forces me look at her. “She killed her own child, Cole. I know you’re angry, but she saved me. She made a choice between her daughter and me. No mother should EVER have to make that choice. Please, Cole. Don’t make her face this alone.” Her words rip through me and I see the truth shining in her eyes that I should have seen earlier. Olivia got to be a mother, if only for a little while. She would have moved heaven and earth for our son, would’ve given her own life to make sure he had a good one. The notion that Olivia would ever have consciously chosen to kill her own child is preposterous and I’m so ashamed of myself for doubting her. My mother, for all of her faults, loved us very much. She proved that

539/629

she would literally do anything for her children—lie, cheat, steal and, in the end, take the life of one to protect the other and everything he held dear. With a quiet nod, Olivia wraps her arm around my waist and helps me up from the ground, my knee completely useless at this point after the way I abused it today. I shout in pain as I put some of my weight on my leg to test it out, and my knee immediately buckles. Olivia, thankfully, is stronger than she looks, her free arm flying around my waist as she easily takes the majority of my weight. She helps me hop on one foot through the mud as I curse and yell into the rain, my knee already swollen to twice its normal size. Adrenaline is a great fucking drug until it wears off.

540/629

Garrett meets us out in the yard and I watch him grab Olivia’s face in his hands and check her over, snarling when he sees the blood and the bruises. She brushes him off and he gently moves her out of the way, helping me walk towards my mother and the shelter of the porch as Olivia rests a supportive hand on my shoulder. The cops arrive around this point, swarming around the skeleton of the house and badgering my mom with questions. She doesn’t answer them or even look in their direction, just continues to stare down at the lifeless body of the daughter she tried so hard to help. The gun is carefully removed from her hands before an officer pulls her arms behind her back, reading her rights and slapping a pair of cuffs on. Her eyes still

541/629

haven’t left Caroline’s body and she gives no indication that she’s even aware of what’s going on around her. I hobble forward with Garrett’s aid until I’m staring down at my mother. Moving my arm from around his shoulder, I stand there on one leg, gazing at the woman who did everything to save her children. In the end, it wasn’t enough. I feel Olivia’s hands on my hips, holding me steady, and it gives me the strength I need to face this, to tell my mother I forgive her for the things she’s done. I don’t know if I’ll ever truly forgive her. In her own twisted way, I know she was doing what she thought she had to do, but her secrets and lies tore my life apart. They took Olivia from me and they took our child from us.

542/629

I’m don’t think I’m strong enough to forgive that, but I can give her the words. I can do that much, because it’s what Olivia wants. She needs to know I will do ANYTHING for her, anything she asks, including facing my mother and easing some of her pain. “It’s okay, Mom. I love you, it’s going to be okay,” I tell her. Her eyes finally move away from Caroline’s body when one of the paramedics begins the process of covering her up. “I’m so sorry, Cole,” she whispers. “I’m so ashamed.” I hop forward and put my hands on her shoulders. “You saved Olivia. You have no idea… she is my everything. I can’t live without her and you saved her.”

543/629

I feel Olivia’s hands tighten on my hips and my voice cracks with emotion as I continue. “I know you did what you thought was right. I know you were only trying to protect us.” She nods her head in agreement as the tears fall from her eyes. My mother’s head jerks up at the sound of a zipper behind me, and her face scrunches up in agony as Caroline’s body is lifted onto a stretcher. The cop holding onto her arms starts to tug her backwards and she screams at the top of her lungs, struggling to get out of his grasp. “NO! I CAN’T LEAVE MY BABY! SHE NEEDS ME!” I don’t know what to do and I don’t know what to say. I’ve never even heard my mother raise her voice and she’s screaming and

544/629

crying so loudly right now that it’s like looking at a stranger. Gone is my proud, regal mother and in her place is a broken, hysterical woman. The cop wraps his arms around her, trying to prevent her from charging the paramedics wheeling my sister’s body away, and my mother’s cries continue to get louder and more distraught. “SHE’S SO COLD! MY BABY IS SO COLD AND SHE DOESN’T LIKE THE DARK! GET HER OUT OF THAT BAG! IT’S TOO DARK!” Before I can say anything, try to come up with any combination of words that will soothe her, Olivia is in front of me, holding onto my mother’s upper arms. “It’s okay, Vivien. We’ll go with her. We won’t let her be alone.”

545/629

My mother’s screams instantly quiet at Olivia’s words, a soft, pitiful keening sound coming from her throat as she stares at Olivia. “I promise, we won’t leave her alone,” Olivia reassures her. My mother stops struggling and the cop slowly removes his arms from around her. Her chin quivers and she closes her eyes and nods. “I never wanted this to happen. I thought I was keeping you safe. I thought I was keeping you all safe. My grandson is gone because of me. My daughter is gone because of me. It’s all my fault.” We watch as they walk her through the rain, sliding her into the back of a police car. We agree to meet them at the station to

546/629

answer all of their questions, but only after we do what Olivia promised. We follow behind the stretcher as my sister’s body is loaded into the back of the ambulance, Garrett and Olivia helping me climb inside before joining me on the bench. Olivia sits in between us, holding onto both of my hands as I remember games of hide and seek, a sweet laugh that echoed through the halls of my childhood home and little hints of madness and obsession underneath the mask of frivolity and playfulness. We sit in silence on the long, quiet ride to the hospital, making sure my sister isn’t alone.

ONE WEEK LATER… “I’m so sorry I haven’t been back here sooner.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath, a gentle breeze ruffling my hair. Part of me hopes that when I open my eyes, I’ll be somewhere else, a place where this isn’t my reality. I want him here with me, smiling and laughing and changing every day. I haven’t

548/629

been back here in five months because I couldn’t bear the thought of him in this place alone, never changing, forever frozen as the tiny infant who only lived a few minutes. The words I spoke to Vivien last week ring in my head. I promised her we wouldn’t leave her baby alone and yet, I couldn’t make the same promise to my own baby. I slowly open my eyes, finding myself in the exact same spot. I’m still surrounded by perfectly manicured grass, little squares of granite popping up from the ground as far as the eye can see. There’s only one that means anything to me, though. Only one that bears the name of my heart and soul. Kneeling down, I nestle the stuffed monkey that I bought on the way over in the grass right in front of the headstone.

549/629

Reaching up, I trace my fingers over the name etched in the stone. “Cole Garrett Lafierre,” I whisper as my fingers move gently through the grooves. “I wanted you before you were even conceived. I loved you long before you were born. I would have gladly given my life just for you to live and know how much I loved you.” “He knows.” I’m not surprised when I hear the quiet voice behind me. I told Parker I was coming here and it took fifteen minutes to reassure her that I was fine going alone. She isn’t Cole’s biggest fan at the moment, but given everything he’s been through in the last week, she’s been cutting him some slack. I wish I could do the same. I want to do the same, but my heart has been beaten and

550/629

abused so much in the last year that I don’t know if I have anything left to give. I’ve ignored his text messages, I’ve sent his phone calls straight to voicemail and I’ve pretended like I wasn’t home when he knocked on my door. I know he needs me; I know his family has been ripped apart and I know he wants to try and make up for the hurt they’ve caused, but nothing can fix my broken heart. Nothing can take away the memory of the words he spoke to me or the fact that he believed I was capable of something so selfish and uncaring. I can forgive Vivien for the part she played in the destruction of our lives. Mother to mother, I can feel her pain and her desire to do everything in her power to save her children. Cole Garrett Lafierre was only mine

551/629

for a short while and yet I would have given anything… EVERYTHING to keep him safe. Vivien had twenty-eight years with Caroline. Twenty-eight years of watching her grow, loving her unconditionally and dreaming about the life and the future she wanted for her. Years and years of tucking her in at night, holding her close, running her hands through her hair and listening to her voice. Caroline was her child and all her hopes and dreams for the future were wrapped up in a beautiful girl with a twisted mind that she just wanted to save. That moment a week ago in the pouring rain, when a mother had to choose between her child’s life and that of a virtual stranger will forever haunt me. And so will the words Cole spoke to me in misplaced anger and betrayal.

552/629

“He knows you loved him. He knows you will always love him,” Cole reminds me. The guilt I carried around with me for so long washed away with the rain last week. There were forces at play beyond my control and I finally realized that no matter what I could have done differently, I couldn’t anticipate or stop a woman who was hell bent on ruining everything I held so dear. Cole and I stand in front of our son’s grave, staring down at the single date carved in the granite. His entire life represented by one date and not a dash like so many other graves in this cemetery. Our son didn’t get the dash. He was robbed of the chance to see the world, to experience life and to grow into the amazing man I know he would have been some day. I held him in my arms for a

553/629

moment, but I will carry him in my heart forever. It hurts to think about walking away and that’s why I’ve never come here. I can’t stand the thought of leaving him here in the cold, dark ground. I know now that he isn’t really there because I feel him in my heart and I see him in my dreams. I wanted a little boy to shower with love but instead, I’ve been given the gift of an angel who will stay with me forever. “I’m so sorry, Olivia,” Cole finally speaks. I hear a bird squawk in a nearby tree and I wonder if it’s our son, telling me it’s okay to walk away. I know I have to. I know I need to be strong, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I’m not only walking away from my little boy, I’m walking away from the man who holds my heart in his hands.

554/629

He can keep it. I have no use for it anymore. “I know you are,” I tell him, refusing to turn around and look at him. I know how sorry he is. I listened to the pain in his voice on my voicemails and I saw it on his face when I went to Caroline’s funeral the other day and his eyes locked onto mine from across the crowd of people, refusing to let go. “You didn’t give him my last name,” Cole mumbles. I close my eyes and count to ten. Of course I didn’t give him the name Vargas. On the day he was born, I hated every single thing that last name represented. It was hard enough naming him after Cole, but it was something I had to do. He looked so much like his father. Even in death I hoped he’d be

555/629

strong and fearless, just like him. I wanted that name to give him strength as he moved on and away from me. Once again, just like his father. “You weren’t exactly there to sign the birth certificate,” I reply, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. There’s no use being mean. He knew he wasn’t there. He knew he’d failed me the day Cole Garrett was born. Saying it over and over again wouldn’t change that. “I need you, Liv. Please, don’t leave me,” he begs. I squeeze my eyes closed and try to calm my racing heart. This is why I didn’t want to have any contact with him right now. His words cut through me and make me want to change my mind, but I realized in the

556/629

ambulance as we rode to the hospital with Caroline’s body that this is what I had to do. “I gave you everything and you threw it all away, Cole. Not once, but twice,” I remind him, opening my eyes and staring down at my son’s grave, hoping it will give me the strength I need to get these words out. “I can’t afford a third time. If you’re really sorry, if you really love me, then you’ll let me go,” I whisper. I hear a sharp intake of breath behind me, but I don’t let it affect me. “Liv, please,” he begs. “You are everything to me. EVERYTHING. I can’t live without you.” I feel anger bubbling up inside of me and I clench my fists at my sides as I finally turn around to face him. I won’t allow myself to

557/629

feel bad for the shadows I see under his eyes or the haggard, broken look on his face. “Don’t put that on me! I can’t be everything to you, don’t you get that?” I ask him furiously. “I have nothing left. NOTHING! I gave you my heart, my soul, my trust and my future. It’s gone. I’m empty. I lost myself in you and I can’t do that again. I WON’T do it again. I’m sorry for everything that happened with your family, but I can’t forgive you for not trusting me. For not knowing me and believing in me.” He takes a step towards me and I back away. I watch his face fall with sadness and the realization that he can’t change my mind. “This is coming out all wrong. Fuck! Just give me a chance to explain, to do better,” he pleads.

558/629

I shake my head at him. “You’ve run out of chances, Cole. You can’t do better. You can’t always fix things. Sometimes they need to stay broken and all you can do is step around the pieces and start over. I need to start over, Cole. I can’t do that with you because I’ll always want to go back to those broken parts and try to make sense of them. You’ll always feel guilty and I’ll always try and heal you. I can’t live like that. I’ve spent my entire life taking care of people and I’m so damn tired of it. I have to go. And you have to let me.” I step around him, picking up my pace, afraid that if he says one more word to me I’ll turn around and run into his arms. I’m weak when it comes to Cole and I can’t afford that anymore.

559/629

It’s my turn to do what I think is best for everyone involved. It’s my turn to walk away.

SIX MONTHS LATER… I cross my legs in front of me and lean back on my hands on the fluffy blanket we’ve thrown down on the lawn, the warm night air and the sounds of people singing along with the woman on stage flowing all around me. A smile lights up my face as I stare at the singer behind the microphone, belting out

561/629

the words to one of the first songs she’d ever written as the people surrounding us on the lawn scream her name. “Isn’t this insane?!” Parker says next to me in awe. “I mean, she’s just Layla to me. But here, she’s freaking famous. Our friend is famous!” I laugh and shake my head at her. I had never met Parker’s friend Layla Carlysle, but I had definitely heard a lot about her over the last few years, and not just because she was a mega superstar in the music world. She managed to get Brady Marshall, one of the members of Garrett’s SEAL team, to settle down, spending the last year on the road with her as she wrapped up her farewell tour. I’d always wanted to go to one of her concerts, but I’d never been able to find the time.

562/629

“I’m suddenly not so angry anymore that you kidnapped me and forced me to come to Napa Valley,” I tell Parker as Layla finishes her song and speaks to the crowd for a few minutes. “No one is forced to come to Napa Valley,” Gwen Marshall-Conrad announces as she flips over onto her stomach on the other side of me and kicks her feet up behind her. “People dream of Napa Valley and then they float here on a cloud of happiness.” Parker and Gwen clink their wine glasses together and share a laugh. After six months of no contact with Cole, I thought I was finally doing better. After that day in the cemetery, he gave me what I asked for and never tried to call me or see me again. I was relieved, initially, realizing I

563/629

needed time and space to heal. The last year of my life had been fraught with loss and sorrow, feelings I hadn’t yet dealt with, much less moved beyond. I knew I had decisions to make about my future and being anywhere near Cole would just cloud my judgment. It didn’t take long, though, before I started missing him. I couldn’t just turn off my feelings for him no matter what he’d done and one again, the absence of Cole left a huge hole in my life. It was after a particularly difficult day, one spent battling grief coupled with a nasty case of PMS-induced tears, that the first gift arrived. Two months ago, on the seventeen of the month, marked the one-year anniversary of the day I found out I was having a boy. When I got home from work that evening, I found a

564/629

small, wrapped box on my front porch and, assuming it was something from Parker, I tore into it. Inside a little black box was nestled a beautiful silver necklace, a charm of an angel boy holding my son’s birthstone dangling from the chain. When I called Parker to thank her for remembering, she had no idea what I was talking about. A week after that, I found a gift bag in my mailbox filled with Sour Patch Kids. I always ate that candy when Cole and I curled up to watch a movie, but I still wouldn’t let myself believe he was the one responsible for sending them to me. A few days after that, I found another box on my doorstep, wrapped in the exact same paper as the necklace. Inside this box was a custom-made, Heather B. Moore ring

565/629

stamped with dates: the day we met, the date of our first kiss, the day we moved in together and the day our son was born. It wasn’t until the final package came a few days ago that I was absolutely positive Cole was behind the gifts. Inside the package that UPS delivered was a brand new collector’s edition of Dirty Dancing with a note that simply said, Keep practicing that lift. When the gifts started arriving, I immediately became concerned about what they meant. I was afraid Cole would try calling me again and I wasn’t sure I was strong enough yet to talk to him. I worried for nothing, though, because those presents were the only contact he’s attempted for six months. He sent me things he knew I would love to let me know he was thinking about me without

566/629

expecting anything in return. I didn’t know what to make of it and I didn’t know how to respond. I knew I should thank him for his thoughtfulness, but I just wasn’t ready to hear his voice again. I started seeing a therapist a few months ago when the flashbacks of Caroline’s death became too much for me to deal with on my own. She spent hours listening to me recount the horrors of that night, eventually suggesting I go out to that spot overlooking the cliffs where my dreams and my nightmares all rolled into one. She thought seeing the place in the daylight, with the sun shining down around me instead of dark clouds and the boom of thunder, would help put the demons to rest, giving me the closure I need and helping me heal. I figured it couldn’t hurt. I

567/629

knew holding onto so much anger and so many bad memories wasn’t healthy. Finally saying good-bye to the dream I once had of a future with Cole in the spot where my nightmares came to life could only help, right? I was doing great, too. My hands barely shook as I turned the wheel into the driveway. My steps never faltered as I walked through the skeleton of the house, banishing the memories of having a gun pointed at my head and coming to terms with the fact that I was about to die. I had no trouble letting the sun warm my skin as I walked out into the backyard and towards the cliff. Everything was fine until I got to that damn cliff. A small, white picket fence squared off about a fifty square foot section of grass right at the edge. A yellow wooden gate granted

568/629

access to the area and I held my breath as I pushed it open and walked through, moving blindly to a stone bench that sat in the middle of the fenced-in area. I felt my eyes fill with tears when I walked around in front of it and saw a two-foot tall stone angel perched on the end of the bench, his serene, cherubic face looking down and his arms spread open by his wings as if he were just waiting for someone to hold him. I managed to hold it together as I stared down at the beautiful memorial to our son, knowing in my heart that Cole had placed it here. I was able to keep my tears in check and continue to breathe as I thought about Cole coming here, building the fence and hauling the stone bench out to end of the property so that whomever sat here could

569/629

look out at the ocean below. What finally broke me was the inscription carved into the seat of the bench. I knelt down in front of it, rested my cheek on the cold stone and ran my fingers over the words like I’d done so many times lately at my son’s grave, letting the tears fall down my cheeks.

I’d been a mess ever since. I picked up the phone at least a hundred times to call Cole, but what the hell would I say at this point? Thank you for the gifts and for what you did for our son and, by the way, I still

570/629

don’t want to have anything to do with you? I could never say those words to him because they just weren’t true. Every day I spent without him just made me more conscious of how empty my life was. I thought I held the monopoly on grief because I went through the pain and horror of losing our son all on my own, but I couldn’t think that way any more. That bench, that inscription… it just proved how much Cole was hurting, as well. He’d lost something, too. He’d lost a child he never got to hold in his arms or even know existed until it was too late. At least I got seven months of feeling him grow and move in my stomach and that one final moment, no matter how painful it was. I got to hold him in my arms, run my fingers through his hair and kiss his little head. Cole had nothing but

571/629

the stories Parker had told him and the pictures in the album she shared with him. In the span of one week, he’d found out he’d lost a son and his entire family had lied to him, his mother killed his sister and then I walked away. I know it was what I needed at the time, but how do I know it was the right thing? I thought I was justified in walking away because he’d hurt me. I never even considered the hurt he himself was shouldering. When I told Parker a few days ago that I was thinking about going away for a while to clear my head, she made me promise not to go anywhere for at least twenty-four hours. I’d told her about the bench and her silence on the other end of the line proved she’d known about it. I wasn’t angry that she hadn’t told me. It was obviously something

572/629

Cole needed to do for himself and the fact that he did it alone, giving his son his last name the only way he could, made my heart ache for him. While I packed my bag and searched the internet for a secluded, quiet location to lick my wounds, Parker called in reinforcements. By noon the following day, she was standing on my front porch with Layla and Gwen in tow, all three of them sharing the same devious smile. Parker grabbed my bag from my room while Layla and Gwen grabbed my arms and dragged me out to the car. I bitched the entire drive to the airport about how they couldn’t just throw me in a car and not tell me where we were going, but as soon as we drove up to Layla’s private jet, I forgot about being mad. The lush, leather

573/629

interior of the plane and the expensive champagne we sipped on the hour and fortyfive minute flight momentarily washed away my troubles. When the chauffeured car Layla had waiting for us at the airport drove past the Welcome to Napa Valley sign and I saw the sun setting on acre after acre of grape vines with the mountains in the distance, I forgot about my irritation. When we pulled up to the Villagio Inn and Spa and I stood in the Tuscan-inspired lobby while Layla checked us in and Gwen grabbed a bottle of wine and four glasses from the bar, I couldn’t help but smile. Even though San Diego is only a little over an hour flight or a nine-hour drive from Napa Valley, this was my first taste of

574/629

California’s wine country. I quickly realized that it wouldn’t be my last. As it turns out, Layla had a tour stop at the Robert Mondavi Winery’s outdoor concert venue and Parker rallied the troops, calling both of the women and telling them I was in serious need of girl time. Layla left her tour bus in Washington State and brought her private jet to San Diego and Gwen put her new husband, Austin, on daddy duty, leaving him home with her seven-year-old daughter, Emma, while she hopped on the next flight out of Nashville to be here. I had only met these women in person once, right before Cole left for the Dominican, but they dropped everything to come out here the minute Parker told them I needed them.

575/629

I was initially afraid that this week would be all about rehashing my life and the decision I’d made to walk away from Cole, but these women each understood in their own way what I am going through. Garrett had hid his feelings for Parker for years and, when she told him she felt the same way, he didn’t believe her and he walked away. After Layla suffered through the worst possible betrayal from her mother and her friend, she needed Brady, but he left because he thought he wasn’t good enough for her. Gwen escaped with her daughter from an abusive husband, only to be stalked and almost killed by a woman she’d thought was her best friend. Austin got a taste of what it was like to be a husband and a father and he thought

576/629

he wasn’t man enough for the job, so he walked away from both of them. Each of these women lived through their own version of hell and they came out on the other side happier than they’d ever been. I thought for sure they would tell me I’d made a mistake and try to get me to see that, through all the pain and loss, it was still possible to forgive and forget, but they did none of those things. They simply stood by my side, told me their stories over many bottles of wine and left me alone with my thoughts. Instead of pushing me to talk or asking questions, they each let me know in their own way that they were here for me if I needed them, and they have no idea how much it means to me. I needed to forget about my life for a little while, but I know I can’t push it

577/629

out of my mind forever. Sitting here under the stars, listening to Layla sing about love and loss just reminds me that our week is coming to an end and the real world awaits back home. Before I left, I’d contacted a real estate agent about selling the house, convinced that leaving California was the only way I would ever heal. I didn’t know where I wanted to go and I knew I’d miss Garrett, Parker and Annie, but I wasn’t sure I could stay there any longer. There were too many awful memories wrapped up in that place and sometimes I wasn’t sure I’d survive one more day there. When I think about moving now, after I’ve had some time away, I break out in a cold sweat and my hands start to shake. As much as I don’t want to think about Cole, I can’t

578/629

help it. He was my whole world for so long and it’s impossible to push him out of my mind completely. Everything I do reminds me of him in one way or another. Some of the memories are good and some of them are bad, but they are always there and they refuse to leave. I don’t know the first thing about forgiveness. I thought I did considering how I was able to move on after my mother died and make something of myself, never once hating her or cursing her for what she did. I realized in the last few months of therapy, however, that I never really forgave her for not being the mother I needed her to be. I simply pushed her out of my mind and vowed to never, ever be like her. I didn’t go to her funeral and I never said good-bye. I

579/629

never told her I forgave her; I just walked away and started over, assuming that forgetting was the same as forgiving. I told Cole I was tired of taking care of everyone else’s problems and, while that’s sometimes true, it’s also who I am and what I was meant to do. I can’t change that anymore than Cole can change who he is. He’s strong and he’s stubborn, protective and trusting. He believes there’s good in everyone and he would do anything for the people he loves. He broke my heart, but he also put it back together again when I thought I’d lost everything after our son died. He gave me hope and he reminded me that life is worth living. He knows what he did was wrong and I know he hates himself for the way everything turned out. I can’t stand the

580/629

thought of him living the rest of his life like that, torn between his family and me and wishing he would have chose differently. I wonder if I’d had a mother who did everything she could to protect me, everything she could to keep me safe from harm through the years, someone who I thought had never lied to me my entire life, if I would have listened to every word she spoke and believed her wholeheartedly, as well. If I had a mother like that, who actually cared about me, I wonder if I would have been able to see through her lies and trust the person I was in love with instead of her. Layla speaks into the microphone, telling the crowd she’s going to try out a new song she just wrote and she hopes everyone likes it. Even with hundreds of people sitting on

581/629

the lawn in front of us on blankets and folding chairs, I swear she looks right at me when she tells everyone the name of the song. “This one’s called Closer to the Edge and I hope y’all like it.” The crowd goes wild, screaming and clapping as the drummer behind Layla counts them out and the guitar player joins in. It’s a slow, haunting melody and my heart starts beating faster when Layla’s beautiful voice echoes all around us. You had it all But you threw it away I lost myself Can you show me the way

582/629

I tried to forget I tried to move on I’m at the brink and now I’m looking down I see all the mistakes and the things we left unsaid Now I’m closer to the edge You say you’re sorry Maybe one day I’ll believe you You tell me you love me Maybe one day is now I tried to forget I tried to move on I’m at the brink and now I’m looking down I see all the mistakes and the things we left unsaid Now I’m closer to the edge

583/629

Our story is never ending Even through the pain and tears We’ll find our way back to each other We’ll forgive and forget and make it better I’m closer to the edge of letting go I’m closer to the edge of loving you I’m closer to the edge and falling fast… Will you be there to catch me? The roar of the crowd when the song ends startles me, so lost in Layla’s words that I forgot where I was. I forgot about all the reasons walking away was a good idea. The only thing going through my mind right now is that I wish Cole were here. I wish he were sitting next to me on the blanket so I could

584/629

tell him I forgive him. I wish he was sitting under the stars with me, listening to Layla sing the words I wish I could say to him. I scramble forward to grab my shoes and my sweater, not really sure what the hell I’m doing. I find one shoe, flipping up the edge of the blanket, frantically searching for the other. I’m about two seconds away from screaming at Parker and Gwen to help me when a hand appears in front of my face, holding my shoe. “Looking for this?” My eyes slowly travel up the toned arm that’s holding my shoe, across the muscled chest I’ve rested my ear against so many as I listened to the beat of the heart inside of it and finally lands on the face I’ve held in my hands, seen in my dreams and thought I

585/629

never wanted to look at again. How did I walk away from him? How did I make myself believe I could be happy without him? He smiles down at me and I want to kiss the dimples in his cheeks. I want to tell him I’ve missed him and that I made a mistake, but what if I’m wrong? What if we aren’t meant to be together? What if it’s too hard and it just brings more pain? Is it even possible for us to start over, when there’s so much history and grief between us? “Sorry to interrupt what looks like a fun night out with the girls,” he tells me, eying the empty bottles of wine that litter our blanket. Parker and Gwen stare open-mouthed up at Cole and I’m a little irritated that, as

586/629

hard-assed and straightforward as these two are, they’re completely silent and of no help to me whatsoever. “I was wondering if you ladies would like to hear a story. It might piss you off, and it could bore you to death, but I’m hoping it has a happy ending,” Cole tells us. “May I?” He points to the empty spot on the blanket. I immediately notice the cane in his hand and my heart flutters. I wasn’t sure if he’d like what I did, so I hid it away and was waiting for the perfect time to give it to him. How did he find it? “By all means, have a seat, kind sir,” Parker finally speaks with a laugh, shoving the wine bottles out of the way as Cole tosses

587/629

the cane onto the blanket and gently eases himself down next to me. He keeps his bad leg straight out in front of him and I don’t see a trace of pain on his face as he gets himself situated. I want to ask him if he’s okay and if he’s been keeping up with his therapy, but most of all, I want to run my hands over his freshly shaven face to make sure he’s real and I’m not dreaming. I can do nothing but stare at him, though, as he begins his story. “Three years ago, I met a woman who changed my life…”

“I’M SURE YOU’RE going to think I’m the world’s biggest pussy, but I don’t care. This woman, she was strong and beautiful, a fighter and a caretaker and she made everything better,” I tell the women, trying not to look at Olivia. If I look at her right now, I will fuck things up like I did that day at the cemetery.

589/629

This is my last shot to get it right and I WILL get it right. My plan for tonight didn’t get much further than coming to the realization after six months of wallowing in misery and self-pity that I wasn’t going to let Olivia walk away. When Garrett told me that she’d seen the bench I’d had made for our son and pretty much fell to pieces and needed to get out of town, I knew I had to get to her. I never meant for her to see that bench. It was something I needed to do for myself, for my son. It was my way of remembering him and apologizing for not being there for him. I wanted him to have my name, even if it was only in a carving on a piece of stone. After threatening Garrett with castration by cane, he finally told me where she was

590/629

and my only thought was getting to her as fast as possible and begging her to come back. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a flight to Napa, so I had to spend nine hours in my car alone, with nothing but my thoughts. As soon as I saw her sitting on the blanket with her eyes closed, listening to the words of the song Layla was singing on stage, I knew what I needed to do. I needed to tell her our story. I needed to make her see that this wasn’t a mistake. WE weren’t a mistake. I see Gwen and Parker looking at the cane lying on the blanket between us and I pick it up, running my hand over the silver handle. “I gave her space, like she asked, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I went to her house to try and beg her to talk to me and when she

591/629

didn’t answer, I picked the lock and went inside. I know, I’m an asshole, but I had to do it. I had to talk to her,” I tell them, remembering how I walked through the house calling her name. When I got to her bedroom, I saw that the closet door had been left open and something with a red ribbon tied around it caught my eye. “She had this cane made for me,” I tell them, tracing my fingers over the engraving on the handle. “I had been bitching and moaning about having to walk with a cane for the rest of my life, feeling sorry for myself, and she did something to make it better. She got this cane engraved with the initials of my two best friends and it made me realize that, as much as it sucks, I need to be thankful that I’m still alive. She made me see

592/629

that I have no reason to feel guilty about losing them, and every reason to live my life to the fullest. To make them proud. To let them know that they didn’t die for nothing. I have to move on and I have to live the life that they’ll never get. She knew that every time I use this cane, I’ll remember them and remember that I have a reason to keep going, putting one foot in front of the other even if it’s a little wobbly.” I set the cane down and get back to my original story, looking up at Gwen and Parker, who are both staring at me. I feel the heat from Olivia’s body right next to me and it gives me the strength and the courage to go on, just like it always has.

593/629

“She made the bad days good and she filled my life with light when it had been dark for far too long,” I continue. Looking up at the stars, I think about every single moment I’ve spent with the woman sitting next to me and I smile at the night sky. “When she’s irritated with me, she puts her hands on her hips and taps her foot. I never told her it’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Sometimes when she’s sleeping, she sighs my name and it’s the best sound in the world. Even when she’s asleep she’s thinking about me and it makes me feel like a Goddamn king.” Taking a deep breath, I look away from the sky and see Gwen and Parker staring at me with sappy smiles on their faces. At least

594/629

they haven’t tried kicking my ass and I can still feel Olivia sitting beside me. If she hasn’t run away yet, that must be a good sign. “I was a complete pompous ass when I met her and I have no idea why she didn’t punch me in the face,” I say with a laugh, shaking my head. “After she gave me the brush off, I flew out to DC and showed up at her job every single day for two weeks until she finally gave in and said she’d go out with me. I’m pretty sure she just did it so I’d stop following her around and annoying her with my lame pick-up lines, but it didn’t matter. She said yes and my life was never the same after that moment. I fell in love with her the very first time I saw her and I never stopped. She took away my nightmares and she made me want to be a better man. A man she

595/629

deserved, because that woman? She deserved the world. She deserved to be loved unconditionally and she deserved to be taken care of for once in her life. I should have taken better care of her. She gave me her heart and I didn’t appreciate it.” I hear Olivia sniffle next to me and I want to beg her not to cry. I’m not worth the tears she’s shedding, but I want to be. I want to be the man she needs. I want to be every single thing that’s been missing from her life. “You fucked things up, didn’t you, buddy?” Gwen asks, playing along. I nod my head and keep going. “I did. I fucked things up big time. I let her walk away when all I wanted to do was hold onto her and never let go. I was so concerned with what my life would be like without her that I

596/629

never thought about what her life would be like with me. I’m not the easiest person to deal with and I’ve made mistakes. I’m a guy, so obviously I’m going to make more, but I will never, ever make the mistake of not believing in her again. Of not realizing how amazing and caring she is and how loving her was the only damn thing I ever did right in my life. I just wish I could have told her that before she left.” “Maybe she already knows,” Parker says softly. “Maybe she’s been second-guessing her decision to walk away but doesn’t want to admit it.” I see her glance at Olivia and I try not to let hope overwhelm me before I’m finished saying everything I came here to say.

597/629

“She had every right to walk away,” I continue. “I hurt her. She’d been hurt before, but what I did was much worse. I forgot about all the ways she made my life better. I forgot about how her laugh could make me forget whatever’s bothering me and how the smell of her skin could take away my bad memories and make me just want to breathe her in for the rest of my life.” I shift to the side and reach into the front pocket of my jeans, pulling out the item that’s been folded and unfolded so many times in the last year it’s a wonder it hasn’t torn in half. I carefully open it up and stare at it for a few seconds before turning it around and holding it up for everyone on the blanket to see.

598/629

“Why do you have a picture of a door in your pocket?” Gwen asks, reaching out and taking it from my hands. She looks at it for a few seconds before handing it to Olivia. I hear her sharp intake of breath and I take that moment to finally look at her. She’s so beautiful I want to cry like a fucking baby. It feels like I’ve been away from her for years and not just a few months. “That’s not just any door, that’s my yellow door,” I announce. “You see, this beautiful, amazing woman I took for granted, she painted that door yellow right after we moved in together. I teased her about it, but I never told her that coming home every day and walking through that yellow door was the best fucking thing in the world. That

599/629

yellow door represented light and hope and a future I never thought I deserved. Every time I saw that yellow door, I knew I was home. I knew that what was behind that door was everything I’d ever need in life and I knew I’d never be happier than living in that house, with that woman and our yellow door.” I reach over and gently take the photograph out of Olivia’s hands. The picture I took the morning I left for the Dominican. The picture I carried around the world with me and looked at every single day and night, wishing I was there, on the front porch, getting ready to walk through that door and take back my life and my future. Setting the photo down on the blanket, I turn my body and face Olivia. Her eyes meet

600/629

mine and they fill with tears she’s trying so hard to keep from falling. “You’re my home, my future, my everything… you’re my yellow door, Liv. I can’t take back the things I’ve done. I can’t erase the hurt I’ve caused you, but I will spend the rest of my life loving you and taking care of you and being everything you need if you’ll just let me. Let me take care of you, Liv. Let me love you,” I plead. The crowd around us gets to their feet and starts clapping and chanting Layla’s name as she says good-bye and thanks them for a great evening. I ignore them, blocking out all the noise and hold my breath. I don’t care about anyone else. I don’t give a fuck about all the nameless, faceless strangers laughing and cheering around us. The only

601/629

person that matters is sitting right in front of me, not saying a word. I quickly try to think of something more to say, of another way to explain to her how much I love her and how sorry I am for all the things that went wrong. I open my mouth to let the word vomit fly when her hand comes up, covering my lips with the tips of her fingers. “You’re already everything I need, Cole. I thought I had to walk away and start fresh, but it’s pointless. You’ve always had my heart and my love and walking away just made me realize that I’ll never get it back, that I never want it back. I just want you,” she says with a smile, letting her fingers slide away from my lips. “I just want you.” I let out the breath I’ve been holding and cradle her head in my hands, bringing her

602/629

face close to mine. I press my lips to hers and the world melts away. Olivia’s hands bunch into the fabric of my shirt and she pulls me closer. It’s still not close enough; it will never be close enough, but we’re in a crowd of people and it will have to do for now. I know we still have a lot more to talk about, but we have plenty of time for that. We have our entire lives. Right now, I just want to kiss my girl and thank God she walked away. It sounds stupid, and I hated every fucking minute of it, but it needed to happen. She needed to walk away before she could run back to me. I hear someone clear her throat loudly and I can’t help the growl that comes out of my mouth as Olivia pulls away from the kiss. With a scowl on my face, I turn my head to

603/629

see Gwen and Parker standing right at the edge of the blanket. “So, I’m just wondering. Does this story of yours have a happy ending?” Gwen asks, raising one eyebrow and looking back and forth between Olivia and I. Olivia looks back at me and I run my fingers through her hair while she traces over my eyebrows, my cheeks, my chin and my lips with the tips of her fingers almost reverently, like she’s trying to memorize me. I look at her questioningly, allowing her to answer Gwen’s question. I’ve taken so many choices out of her hands and I want her to know that it’s all up to her. The choice is hers and I will do whatever she wants. She finally smiles at me, cupping my face in her hands. “It has a happy beginning.

604/629

We’re starting a new chapter, and it’s going to be a good one.”

FIVE WEEKS LATER… “Liv, you’re killing me here. Will you come out of there already?” I beg, pacing back and forth outside of the bathroom. I stop wearing a hole in the carpet, knocking gently on the door. “Stop rushing me!” Olivia shouts from the other side. “This is so stupid. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Have I mentioned how stupid this is?” I chuckle at her irritated muttering. After eight days of her throwing up every single

605/629

morning and her moods going from one extreme to the next in the blink of an eye and making me sort of fear for my life, I ran to the pharmacy this morning and picked up a test. She grumbled and rolled her eyes at me, reminding me what the doctor told her all those months ago, but she still snatched the brown paper bag with the box inside out of my hand and stormed into the bathroom. That was five minutes ago. Five of the longest Goddamn minutes of my life. Once Gwen and Parker stopped crying long enough to relate the details of my grand display to Layla, the three women went back home to their men while Olivia and I stayed on at the Villagio Inn. We spent the next week touring wineries and having sex in every single private location we could find.

606/629

Actually, some not-so- private locations, too, now that I think about it. We talked, we made love, we drank wine and we promised to return to Napa as soon as possible. Once we got back to San Diego, the first thing I did was go to the hardware store and buy a can of yellow paint to cover up that ugly ass brown color on the front door. After that, we packed up our son’s room, including the frame holding that fucking check from my mother. In its place we hung up my picture of the yellow door. We started talking about adoption and making plans for the future, plans I would move heaven and earth to make a reality for her. My family is a complete disaster right now and I’m not sure we’ll be normal again, not that we were ever really normal to begin

607/629

with. With Olivia’s help, I’m trying to forgive them for all the shit they put us through. If she can forgive them, I damn well should be able to. After listening to the facts of the case, the DA ruled that my mother acted in self-defense and they opted not to prosecute. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive herself for covering up Caroline’s darkness all those years, and the guilt she must feel over being forced to kill her own child is something I will never be able to comprehend, but she looks a little better every time I see her. My father, in typical fashion, left town right after Caroline’s funeral and we haven’t heard from him since. He never really had any use for us in the past, so it only makes sense he wouldn’t give a shit about us when we need him the most. It’s fine, though. I

608/629

learned at a young age that I don’t need him in my life, so his absence makes no difference to me. I only wish he could have been a better man for my mother. If he’d concentrated more on his wife and children and less building his career and screwing everything with a nice pair of tits, things could have turned out differently. Olivia has understandably kept her distance from my mother, but she still pushes me to check on her every few days while she goes through the process of selling her home and moving into a condo. Being around my mother right now brings back too many bad memories for Olivia, but she told me she just needs some time for it all to make sense in her head and her heart. For so long, she thought my mother was responsible for

609/629

everything that had happened and it’s hard for her to let go of that pain. Knowing that everything my mother did was to keep Olivia safe makes it a little easier to move towards forgiving and forgetting. I’m amazed every single day that this woman loves me and wants to spend the rest of her life with me. She’s selfless and caring and the best fucking thing that has ever happened to me. Olivia and my mother will probably never be the best of friends, but maybe some day they can be in the same room together and have a cordial conversation. I will leave it all up to Olivia, though. Whatever she wants is perfectly fine with me. I’ve given up trying to understand why Caroline did the things she did and why she was filled with so much hate. While I helped

610/629

my mother pack up her home, she finally told me a few stories about the little sister I knew nothing about. It started off innocent enough: a little five-year-old girl telling everyone she was going to marry her older brother. They thought it was cute. They thought it was sweet. As time wore on, her cute little girl antics rapidly morphed into threats and anger and jealousy. The first time I brought a girlfriend home my senior year of high school, Caroline set her bed on fire after we’d left to go to the movies. When I called home from Navy basic training and told everyone I was dating a girl I’d met on leave, Caroline cut off all of her hair and slit her wrists. Every girl I introduced to my family broke things off with me soon thereafter and I never put two-and-two together.

611/629

Caroline was subtle with her threats, but they did the job. I stuck up for her when my parents got on her case for her wild nature, promising to always be there for her and take care of her. Maybe that was the catalyst for her obsession with me, who knows? She saw me as her hero; her knight in shining armor who always protected her and her feelings grew until they became something dark and twisted. As soon as she saw Olivia, saw her dark hair and olive complexion and no-nonsense attitude, she knew she’d have to up her game. She knew Olivia was different and it pushed her into the worst downward spiral her life had ever taken. Even though I never met my son, I know without a doubt I would have done anything for him. Maybe even cover up his mental illness and do everything

612/629

I could to try and bring him back to me. I understand my mother’s actions a little better now, but that doesn’t mean I forgive what she did. I’ll never be able to ask Caroline why and I’ll never be able to make sense of it all. The only thing I can do is remember the good times. Remember the little sister I watched over and protected. The little girl my parents brought home from foster care that I would have done anything for. No matter how hard I try, I can’t hate her. I also can’t forgive her for what she stole from me. Time heals all wounds and all that bullshit. I’ll eventually be able to let my anger and disappointment go, but for right now, I’m not going to let it get to me. I have a good life, an amazing woman by my side and I’m

613/629

not going to fuck it up with regrets and rage over things I can’t change. What’s done is done and the only thing I care about is inside this house. After Caroline’s funeral, my mother told me that if Olivia wanted to go back to work at the hospital, she would make it happen immediately. She always knew Olivia was the best nurse that ever came through the doors of UC San Diego and she’d hated herself for ruining Olivia’s career. Her only concern at the time was getting Olivia as far away from Caroline as possible. Olivia thought about it for a few days, but ultimately decided she liked being a home nurse. She enjoyed the change of scenery taking care of people in their homes provided. UC San Diego held a lot of bad memories for Olivia and she said

614/629

she wouldn’t be able to walk through those doors again without remembering the day she lost our son. I supported whatever decision she made. As long as she was happy, I didn’t care what she wanted to do. With my shit knee, my career as a SEAL is over and that’s okay with me. Not even Uncle Sam could tear me away from Olivia ever again, anyway. My computer skills are invaluable, though, and the Navy has asked that I stay on board, working in Intel. It’s not the most glamorous of jobs, but it keeps me busy and close to Olivia and that’s all I want and need in life. Garrett and Parker just announced that Annie is going to be a big sister in six months, Layla turned the tables and proposed to Brady as soon as she got home from

615/629

Napa, and Austin just called us yesterday and told us Gwen is also pregnant. I don’t know what the fuck those women drank in Napa, but it obviously worked wonders. Garrett, Austin and Brady all agreed that whatever I did, I should keep doing it because their women practically attacked them as soon as they got home. The door to the bathroom suddenly flies open and I take a step back, searching Olivia’s face, making sure she’s okay. Maybe this wasn’t my brightest idea. The doctor told her the chances of her getting pregnant again were slim to none, but I reminded her over and over this morning that he never said it was impossible. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed her to take that fucking test. All it’s going to do is remind her of something she

616/629

might never have and I don’t want to do that to her right now, especially when all of our friends have been bit by the fucking fertility bug and she’s surrounded by their annoying displays of happiness, a constant reminder of something she might never have. She’s holding the white plastic test in her hands, staring down at it silently. Her chin quivers and my heart instantly falls. Shit! Goddammit! I’m such an asshole. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have made you take that stupid thing,” I tell her softly, moving towards her and rubbing my hands up and down her arms. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. We’re going to adopt fifty, remember?” Olivia shakes her head back and forth and my heart breaks as I watch tears escape

617/629

from her eyes and fall down her cheeks. She looks up at me, the tears falling faster and I swipe them away, telling her over and over that I love her and it doesn’t matter. I kiss the top of her head and apologize again for putting her through this. She doesn’t say a word and it’s much worse than if she was screaming at me and cursing my name. “Baby, say something. Please,” I beg. Her eyes never leave mine as she turns the test around between us and holds it up in front of my face. I glance at it once. Twice. A third time. “Holy shit,” I finally whisper in shock. Olivia laughs through her tears. “Yep, I think ‘holy shit’ just about sums it up. What the hell was in that wine in Napa?!”

618/629

I wrap my arms around her and pull her against me, both of us laughing and crying as we rock back and forth in the hallway of our home. Our home where the future looks bright and dreams will come true. Our home with the yellow door.

ONE YEAR LATER… “I mean seriously, does it get any cuter than THAT?” Parker asks, pointing over to the group on the deck behind her house. Layla, Gwen, Parker and I all stare at the scene unfolding in her back yard. As cute as the babies are, the men holding them is what has attracted our attention.

620/629

Annie is sitting on Garrett’s knee, both of them staring down at Annie’s little brother, fast asleep in Garrett’s other arm. Colton Garrett McCarthy came screaming into the world six months ago and Annie has proven to be the best big sister in the world, constantly wanting to help change diapers and give bottles. My eyes move over to Austin as he gives his three-month-old daughter, Genevieve Marie Conrad, a bottle while quietly arguing with Gwen’s daughter, Emma, about the number of cupcakes an eight-year-old can eat before she barfs. . Brady, sitting on the other side of Austin, leans towards Emma with three-week-old Cooper Alexander Marshall asleep in his

621/629

arms and tries to help Austin reason with his niece. My heart skips a beat when my gaze lands on my husband. As soon as we found out I was pregnant, we didn’t waste any time heading to the courthouse. Cole tried to convince me that I deserved a big wedding, but I shut that idea down really fast. My nerves were already shot worrying about my pregnancy and whether it would go well after what happened the first time, not to mention the fact that I wasn’t even supposed to be able to get pregnant. I didn’t need the added stress of planning a wedding. Saying a quick “I Do” with Garrett and Parker in attendance was good enough for me. Cole looks up, meeting my eyes across the yard and we share a smile. The last five

622/629

months have been hectic, to say the least, but we’re finally getting into the swing of things and actually getting more than two hours of sleep at night. The girls and I make our way across the yard and up to the deck. Standing behind Cole, I place my hands on his shoulders and stare down into his arms. My heart swells with joy and more love than I ever thought was possible. The day we found out what we were having was a mixture of joy and nerves. On the one hand, I was afraid of having another boy, worried he would think he was a replacement for his brother. I honestly wasn’t sure myself if I would feel the exact same way when he was born. On the other hand, I wanted so badly for Cole to be able to have another son. One he could hold and

623/629

touch and teach to play baseball out in the yard, hopefully avoiding the mailbox, unlike his mother. I realized when the nurse slid the ultrasound wand over my stomach and we got a look at the screen, that what we were blessed with was something far better, albeit a little scary. No baby would ever be able to replace the one we’d lost. No child would ever be able to fill the hole in our hearts that he left behind, but we knew, in that moment, that the two hearts we saw thumping on the ultrasound monitor would do a very good job of helping us heal. “Either our daughters are finally getting the hang of this whole napping thing, or the sound of my voice bores them to sleep,” Cole told me softly.

624/629

Leaning over his shoulder, I run my fingers through Ella Katherine Vargas’ soft, dark curls and then do the same with Victoria Parker Vargas. Born three minutes and seventeen seconds apart, our twins came into the world one week before their due date during a scheduled C-section, trying to outdo each other in the screaming department. It was bittersweet, lying on the table with a sheet propped up so I couldn’t see beyond my chest as the doctor worked tirelessly to make sure our girls came out perfect and healthy. The scheduled, orderly way they were born was such a drastic difference from the rushed, scary, painful way our son was born. Having Cole by my side every step of the way, holding my hand, telling me he loved me and giving me words of

625/629

encouragement made things a hell of a lot easier. Bending over, I wrap my arms around Cole’s shoulders and rest my chin on his head as we both stare down at the beautiful miracles he holds in his arms. The soft hum of conversation floats around us and I take a minute to glance around the deck. For the first time in my life, I have something I always wanted: a family. Not only do I have a husband and two beautiful, healthy daughters, I have friends who would do anything for me and who I have so much in common with. Each of these couples almost walked away from a future together, but they defied the odds and made their way back to one another, just like me and Cole.

626/629

A new family finished building the house Cole started for us and I’m okay with that. We found a bigger place that wasn’t filled with anything but our new memories and hopes for the future. When Cole sold them the land and the partially constructed house, he made sure the sale was contingent on them keeping the bench and the fenced-in area exactly as it is. We took our daughters there yesterday and told them about their older brother. We sat on the bench where Cole so lovingly had the words in his heart etched and looked out over the edge of the cliff at the ocean stretching out in front of us. We came so close to the edge of letting each other go, and we both realize now the life we would’ve missed out on. I’m thankful that we stepped back from the edge and

627/629

learned to forgive, I’m thankful for our daughters, who taught us what love is really all about and, of course, I’m thankful that Cole gave us back our yellow door, so we can walk Ella and Victoria through it every single day and teach them about happiness and hope.

For more information on Tara Sivec’s upcoming releases, giveaways and book signing events, please sign up

628/629

for her newsletter: http://eepurl.com/ H4uaf

@Created by PDF to ePub