Letting Go of the Pain Read online

  Thylane smiled and hugged Lauren’s arm, happy that Lauren was smiling and obviously feeling the bond with all these women. Women Thylane hoped would become close friends of Lauren, Avana, and Tiana in no time at all.

  * * * *

  Steve didn’t want to talk things out or hear any bullshit explanation as to why Panther thought he couldn’t be part of this current situation. He got it. They didn’t trust him to handle things at a hundred percent.

  He was filled with piss and vinegar as he slammed his truck door closed and glared at anyone willing to make eye contact with him. No one knew the kind side of him, the one that was friendly and polite, and what they all could have seen as a first impression if they had gotten to Repose before he went on that stupid fucking mission. He ground his teeth and practically growled as he entered the small clothing store. He was at his wit’s end trying to come up with shit to do after he did his training at the compound. He wasn’t in the mood for the plans tonight either. Drinks and bullshitting at the Filling Station. He looked at the door and saw that they were going to be closing in about thirty minutes here at the clothing store. He just needed a belt. The one he had for a while finally split, and it looked terrible.

  “We’re closing in about fifteen minutes. Do you need help finding anything?” the older woman at the counter asked him.

  “I got it,” he said, and she narrowed her eyes at him and then held her blouse closed against her chest. She was scared of him, maybe thought he might do something or hurt her? “Thank you,” he said and forced a smile, which seemed to take down her guard a notch. She smiled and nodded as she released her hand and then went about folding some things by the register.

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  As he headed down to the back where the men’s things were, he spotted a woman standing by a rack of belts, directly where he was heading. She had long brown hair, a great figure from what he could tell considering she wore a skirt that looked a little loose and a top that accentuated her narrow waist. When she turned to the right, her hand shaking as she reached out to touch one of the belts, he realized who it was.

  “Lauren.” He said her name, and she gasped, turned, and knocked over the display of wallets on the top of the rack where the belts were.

  He looked down and then up, locking gazes with her, and immediately saw the tears. He stepped closer.

  “What’s wrong?” Are you okay? You hurt?” he asked and grabbed onto her arms, and she shook her head and just stared up at him.

  “Everything okay back there?” the woman at the register called back to them.

  “Please. Oh God, don’t let her see me like this,” Lauren said and turned. He squinted and turned back toward the woman.

  “Everything is okay. I just knocked over some wallets, but I’ll pick them up. Thanks so much. Sorry.”

  The woman nodded and went back to what she was doing.

  He stared at Lauren as she wiped her eyes and reached into her bag she’d dropped on the floor. When she bent down, her blouse parted and he saw the deep cleavage of her breasts. He gulped, wondering why she was crying and over belts.

  “Uhm, are you okay?” he asked again and placed the items that had fallen into the box and put them back upon the display.

  She started to put two others, and he reached for her hand to take them. Their hands touched, and he was shocked at what he felt. One glance down at her and those glossy aqua blue eyes, full, wet lips, and scared expression and something came over him.

  “Don’t be scared. Sometimes these things happen,” he said, not knowing how he was coming up with words to say to her, never mind

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  sounding empathetic and kind. He wasn’t really that kind of man. He was hard, demanding, and abrupt, and tears were weakness he avoided.

  She squinted. “I’m sorry, Steve. I was…I was just looking around.

  I need another pair of sneakers for the store. I’m on my feet so much, and the others I have are old.” She then pushed strands of hair behind her ear. He noticed the small stud diamond earrings she wore. They were feminine and delicate like her.

  “How are things going over there?” he asked and glanced at the belts then started to look at the sizes. He looked up and heard her voice crack.

  “Busy, and well for the first week.”

  “Good. It’s a nice place, and Bo is good people.”

  He ran his hand along the leather belt and then decided on which one to get. “I bet people are going crazy for those pies you make.”

  When he looked at her, she was staring at his hands and then looking at him as if he might hurt her or do something violent. He got mad.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t know what you heard, but it’s bullshit. I’ll get through this. I’m not a liability or some shit like that,”

  he snapped at her.

  Her lips parted and then sealed. She took an unsteady breath, and he felt like a dick.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked him, her voice low, mousy. He looked back at her. She didn’t know a thing. He’d just made an ass out of himself. His temper was out of control.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been going through some things, and I’m on edge and just don’t want people feeling sorry for me.”

  “Hmm, I get that. I’ll leave you to find your belt.” She started to move.

  “Wait, you going through something too?” he asked.

  She gulped but then nodded, and he was going to ask her what or say something as his mind thought what she could possibly be going through when she spoke.

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  “I’d better look for the shoes before the store closes,” she said and walked away from him.

  He turned toward the rack again, but instead of focusing on the damn belts, he focused on Lauren. The scent of her shampoo, the sight of her fear, her femininity. She needed looking after. She needed protection. Why hadn’t any men approached and showed interest?

  The thought caused a tiny sensation to strike against his chest.

  Tiny, foreign, no, he wasn’t thinking deeper. He was a soldier, a respectful man who put women and children first. That was where this care, this concern, came from.

  She tried on some shoes, and he pretended to look around some more but really he waited for her. She shouldn’t be walking out alone, despite the town being so safe. He paid for the belt, and then Lauren came up carrying a box.

  “You found what you were looking for?” he asked her, and the clerk cleared her throat then smiled.

  “Yes, they’ll do, and you?” she asked.

  “I believe so.” He held his bag and waited as Lauren paid for the sneakers.

  “Did you need something?” Lauren asked him.

  “No, just figured I would walk you out. You shouldn’t walk out alone.”

  “I heard it’s safe in Repose,” she countered and then took her receipt from the woman who placed the sneakers into the bag. Of course the clerk was smiling and listening in. It aggravated him.

  “Safer with an escort.” He stared at her, uncertain why he was still here. Why he was feeling this instant possessiveness and concern for Lauren. It had to be because he knew she’d been abused and gone through something traumatic. He was being a gentleman, a good soldier, a good citizen of Repose and member of Sons of Justice, that was why.

  He held the door open for her, and the cool evening air hit his skin, doing nothing to calm his mind or his heart rate. He felt

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  oversensitive from the blood moving through his veins to the tightness in the cord of muscles in his arm as he held the door open and she slid by him, her clothing brushing against his forearm. The wind blew lightly and lifted her skirt. She grabbed for the side but not before he caught a glimpse of toned thigh making her appear sexy.

  “Where are you parked?” he asked, snappy again, and she took an unsteady breat
h and held her bag with her shoes in front of her as if to protect or guard her body.

  “I’m fine, Steve.”

  He looked around and spotted her car in the small parking lot across the street.

  “It’s over there. I’m parked there, too. Come on.”

  “How do you know which one my car is?” she asked, squinting at him.

  He stared at her. How beautiful she was even though she looked sad, scared, and intimidated by him.

  “I saw you that first day you pulled into Happy Endings with your box of goodies,” he said, and her cheeks flushed, and she looked away.

  “Plus every day for the next weeks after that as I helped out at the store and you baked. Saw you coming and going.” He didn’t know why he was flirting. It sounded like flirting to his ears, and apparently she took it that way.

  “Come on, I’ll walk you,” he said, but as they started to walk he heard his name.

  “Steve.”

  Mink approached, looked at him and then at Lauren, squinting, hard, just as always. “What are you doing in town?”

  “Needed something in the store,” he said to him.

  “I needed to see Cesar and discuss a few things,” Mink said and stared at Lauren. “I’m Mink, by the way. I don’t think we met though.

  You’re Thylane’s cousin?” he asked her and reached his hand out.

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  “Yes, I’m Lauren.” She then shook his hand. Steve saw Mink’s eyes widen a moment, and he slowly released her hand. She pulled back. “I need to go. Take care,” She said to Steve.

  “Wait, I said I would walk you to your car.”

  “I’m right there, plus your friend is here, too. Thanks anyway.”

  She started to walk.

  “His brother,” Mink said to her, shocking Steve, who squinted at him.

  But apparently Lauren was more shocked.

  “What?” she asked.

  “His brother, we’re part of the same team,” Mink said eyeing her over.

  “Oh, okay, well, nice meeting you. I need to get going. It’s late,”

  she said to him.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” he said, and Steve recognized that expression on Mink’s face. He found Lauren attractive, but before he could suggest getting a drink, grabbing a coffee, or anything, she quickly excused herself from them.

  “Goodnight.” She quickly walked away, cutting between the cars and getting to her car quickly.

  “That was strange. She’s so shy,” Mink said but remained watching her go.

  “You came on strong,” Steve snapped at him.

  “What?” Mink replied. Steve looked at him.

  “She’s a survivor, not a piece of ass.” He started walking away.

  He felt the hand on his upper arm.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Mink asked.

  Steve pushed Mink’s hands off his arm.

  “How long have you been talking to her?”

  “It’s only a few times.”

  “She’s beautiful, and those eyes, they’re like an aqua, maybe turquoise, blue.” Mink then looked back toward the parking lot.

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  Steve felt uneasy, maybe jealous, no, not jealous, aroused, interested, and now that Mink had seen her and seemed interested, too, hell, attracted to Lauren, too, he really felt crazy things. His mind jumped to ideas, to desires he never entertained.

  “Just drop it.” He turned to walk away.

  “No, I don’t want to drop it, man. I want to talk to you. We don’t talk. You’re constantly pushing us away and closing up.”

  “Talk? How can we talk when I’m not involved in what the rest of you are doing?”

  “It was one fucking mission, man. One, and for good reason, you weren’t involved. Spartan never would have allowed you to jump right back into danger after what you survived.”

  Steve looked around them and then lowered his head and clenched his teeth. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not here.”

  “Then let’s talk at home. Have a few beers and just fucking talk, man. Like we’ve done in the past.”

  “It isn’t that easy. Things have changed. They’re changing,” Steve said and then walked toward his truck.

  “I’ll meet you at home,” Mink called after him, and Steve gave a wave but didn’t make eye contact.

  He didn’t want to talk when he got home. He didn’t want to hear the sympathy or the advice that things would get better. He got into the truck and ran his hand along his chest. Even with the shirt on, he felt the scars, the raised skin, a constant reminder as to why he should be dead.

  He thought about Lauren. She was beautiful, like Mink said.

  Beautiful and a survivor, and scared of him. Scared of men like him, of soldiers. As he drove, he thought about how he’d spotted her. The way she reached out with shaky hands toward the belts. He wondered why. Thought about what he knew and it came to him. It was instant, like it hit him now, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter. Had her boyfriends abused her with a belt? Maybe hit her with it? Holy shit.

  He was glad the assholes were dead but felt badly that Lauren seemed

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  to still suffer with the memories of the abuse as well as being held hostage by them. The realization, the connection, and possible reason why he was even thinking about her so much since they first met hit him. He was trying to get over being a survivor, getting tortured, beaten, and wishing for death. Maybe that was why he felt compelled to talk to her. It was like she could understand. Or maybe by the way he spoke so easily to her, he felt like he could help her? He didn’t know, and his emotions were screwy as he drove toward home.

  He shook the thoughts from his head. Soon enough he would be talking to Mink, and who knew if it would lead to another argument or pull them closer.

  * * * *

  “Outside or inside?” Mink asked Steve.

  Steve looked up into the clear night sky. “Outside I guess.”

  They hit the buttons on their key chains that locked the automatic locks on their trucks and walked along the pathway and to the back porch. Steve walked over to the refrigerator by the outdoor kitchen and patio and grabbed two cold beers. He handed one to Mink.

  “Thanks.” He tipped it toward Steve, and they tapped beer bottles before taking sips.

  Mink took a seat on one of the cushioned chairs, and Steve took the one next to him. A small stone table sat between them, and they both exhaled.

  “It’s a pretty damn nice setup, don’t you think?” Mink asked.

  Steve looked around the place. “Better than anything we’ve ever had, even growing up.” Steve then squinted and swallowed another gulp of beer.

  “You’re telling me. We were so damn poor. Shit, we’d probably come to a place like this at night to see what we could steal and get cash for so we could eat a couple of meals,” Mink said to him.

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  They all had tough childhoods, and going into the military was to help them get three square meals a day, medical coverage, and to learn a trade. They learned a hell of a lot more, including surviving.

  “I know things have been crazy. We got this wake to go to Friday, meetings with Spartan to try and figure out our next moves.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll hold down the fort when you aren’t here.” Steve took a sip of beer and made a face.

  “Come on, Steve, that isn’t what I’m saying.”

  “Well, what the fuck are you saying?”

  “That you’re part of the team. That hasn’t changed.”

  “It has changed. All of it has. There isn’t anything keeping us together like before. I’m over here, and the three of you are over there, all tight-knit without change.”

  “That’s fucking bullshit. You don’t think what happened to you affected all of us?”

  “No, didn’t think about
that at all. I was too busy recovering, too fucking busy breathing through the pain.” He stood up.

  “We felt your pain. We were maniacs trying to track the location down and infiltrate it without causing too much destruction because we weren’t supposed to be there.”

  “Oh, so I’m supposed to bow down to the three of you now because you didn’t take the command’s order to leave me to die?”

  “No, that isn’t what he’s saying at all,” Panther said and joined the conversation. So did Eddie. All four of them were out there now, and Steve put down the beer.

  “I don’t want to do this,” Steve said on an exhale.

  “Tough shit. We’ve been allowing you to take your time and recover. We were gone a couple of weeks, and nothing changed. In fact you seem worse. You don’t socialize, you have a short temper and snap most of what you say, and we’re concerned.”

  “I have normal conversations. I just don’t want to be asked how I’m feeling and be told by other soldiers that I don’t need to worry,

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  that I’ll tag along on the next fucking mission. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me.” He raised his voice.

  “No one said that to you. They probably didn’t mean it in that way at all. Anyone who knows you, Steve, knows how good you are at what you do. Blowing up shit and not dying setting it up the way you do takes technique and a special ability. Look at how many lives you have saved over the years, including all of ours, and more than fucking once. Why the fuck do you think we all made it as a team into Sons of Justice?” Panther asked.

  “Sure as shit wasn’t just my excellent marksmanship,” Eddie said and blew on his nails. They chuckled, and Steve shook his head.

  “We all had something to offer, individually and as a team. This last mission nothing needed to be blown up, and it had only been a month since the rescue. You need more time, and we get that. So do Spartan and the other commanders,” Panther said to him.

  “They think I’m weak, or I’m going to go postal.”