Page 6 of Knot Yours

I was supposed to be in Georgia training Rangers with a wife and house full of kids waiting for me at home. That dream crumbled in my hands in a matter of minutes.

After Georgia dealt its blows, I ran from the state and never looked back. My dreams of a wife and kids were left behind with the state line.

For a while, I was well on my way to having the life I wanted. I loved my career and my woman. Seeing her belly swell with my first child was a dream come true. Watching that child being born was the most magical moment I could have imagined. Until it wasn’t.

The son born that cold January morning was the first of my two heartbreaks. Minutes after Amber pushed out the child, the doctor and nurses got really quiet. I figured out why when they handed me an Asian baby.

Amber wouldn’t even look at me. I’m guessing she was hoping that the baby would come out looking like her and the affair would go unnoticed.

For nine months, I was the happiest man alive. My beautiful wife and I were having what I thought would be the first of many babies.

Once I wiped away the tears that fell onto the tiny boy’s face, I apologized to him, handed him to his mother, and went home and packed my shit. I visited a divorce attorney three hours later.

The second blow came six months later while training a group of Ranger candidates on Mount Yona. This particular group featured three guys on their second attempt to pass the mountain phase. One guy, Swells, looked like he was going to wash out again. Another kid, McDaniels, talked him up, nipping at his heels the whole time. Omen, the other guys called him. McDaniels stood out among the other candidates for his leadership capabilities. With him at Swells’ back, I thought the kid would actually make it this time.

On the last day of the mountain phase, Swells fell and broke his neck. I don’t know who took it worse, me or McDaniels.

I’d never lost someone during training. Swells wasn’t cut out to be a Ranger, but his father was, and Swells wanted to follow in his footsteps. Deep down, we both knew he would never make it, but he refused to give up his dream of a tan beret.

I should have cut him. I let sentiment make a decision that my brain wouldn’t have, and the kid died. If I had cut the boy from the program, he’d still be alive. The guilt destroyed me. Six weeks after the kid was buried, I retired from the service and fled the state of Georgia.

My wandering took me to Norfolk, where I pissed around for a while, figuring I’d try to make a dollar working with my hands. I was a carpenter by hobby and damned good at it. My favorite thing was making unique furniture.

I lived off my savings for a while, quitting the Army before being eligible for a pension. I built furniture in my garage until I had enough of a collection to set up at local craft shows. That’s how I met a guy named Dillan Knot.

He was a SEAL at the time and a force to be reckoned with. He and a group of his friends came to an art show in Norfolk, where I had a lot of work on display. His girlfriend at the time, Trish, fell in love with one of my tables. Knot bought it for her on the spot and later contacted me to surprise her with more pieces.

Knot and I became fast friends despite the bitterness and wounds I carried. It surprised me how quickly and how much I opened up to him. Knot was just as forthcoming with me.

The man had ideas about opening a private military firm and said he could use a good trainer. I laughed him off at first, but then I saw in his eyes just how serious he was. My reasons for being a lousy hire fell on deaf ears, but I let it go, thinking it was all just a pipe dream anyway.

When Knot retired from the service and started Knot Corp, mine was the first number he called. I was tired of spending all my time with power tools, so I told him if he was stupid enough to hire me, I wouldn’t say no.

I’ve worked for him ever since. That took care of one heartbreak. I get to train heroes again. As far as the other, there’s no cure. I don’t ever want to be that vulnerable again. The only female I let get close is Piper.

But she’s not enough.

Suddenly angry and in denial, I turn over on the flimsy air mattress and punch my pillow. Piper senses my tension and gets up, dragging her bed next to mine. When she lies down again, it’s with her head resting next to my hand.

I reach out and pat her between the ears. “That’s right. You’re my only girl, aren’t you?”

She whines and licks my hand, unsettled by my mood. For her sake, I take several deep breaths and try to relax, eventually falling into a restless sleep.

I’m up early the next morning, as usual. I pull on running shorts and shoes to go for a run, hoping to relieve some of this nervous tension. Piper accompanies me, and we loop the neighborhood until we complete five miles. By loop three, I notice several women outside watering plants or doing some other random chore. Chuckling to myself, I figure next time, I’d better wear a shirt.

The time spent running is also spent planning. Listing the remaining projects at the duplex, I calculate how long it’ll take to complete all the work. Too long. I’ll have to devote entire weekends to the effort and some afternoons when a project involves deliveries or an outside installer. My best guess is that I’ll be finished in two months, give or take a weekend. Given my mood lately, the long hours and zero idle time will do me good.

Piper and I finish our run around seven and make the turn down the final stretch. Nearing the duplex, I notice a woman sitting on the shared front deck. She’s sipping coffee at a small table, intently focused on a book while taking notes.

My steps falter, slowing until I stop altogether. The woman takes my breath away. A mane of dark hair waterfalls over one bare shoulder, a backdrop for the graceful profile of her sharp jaw and slender neck. Her tan skin speaks to an exotic lineage. Not quite olive, but maybe Hispanic. Her unmade face is fresh as the morning and more attractive than painted models. Thick lashes and sharp cheekbones need no fake emphasis. The woman is pure perfection, just the way she is.

Piper nudges my thigh, and I realize I’m staring. I force my feet forward, and when I’m close enough to be noticed, the woman looks up and smiles. That smile hits me like a sledgehammer to the chest. I almost asked her to hit me again.

The woman’s eyes wander away from mine, and her eyebrows lift. Her reaction becomes less subtle as her lithe body adjusts to align with mine, a sign of our undeniable magnetism.

My own body heats as her gaze licks over my chest and abs, my dick responding with promise. I’m tempted to find out how soft her lips are when the woman’s face changes, freezing me in place. Her eyes widen, and she sits up straight, all traces of intrigue gone. I follow her gaze to Piper and sigh.

Damn. If the woman has a problem with Piper, she’s an automatic cut. I shake my head at the thought. What the hell, man? The woman was never a candidate because you’re her landlord, and besides, you’re not going there with a woman again.

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