Page 18 of Embattled Return

Before he joined the Army, he’d been an active kid. School had held no appeal to him, but he’d gotten through it. If he’d had his way, he would’ve stayed in Virginia tinkering on cars and hanging out with his buddies at night. Eventually he’d realized that he wasn’t going to be satisfied staying in the same neighborhood and doing the same things. He wanted more. More than just spinning his wheels in the same town he’d grown up in and avoiding his home life. Any time he’d gotten a few bucks in his pocket, he’d traveled. No great distances or anything, sometimes just to the next state to see what he could see. The Army had seemed like a great choice to let him see some of the country and get paid. His father hadn’t been happy about that, but the older he’d gotten, the less Logan had cared what his drug-addicted, abusive father said. Then one day his father had told him he would absolutely not be joining the Army. Period. Not after the way they’d treated him. Unfortunately, Chris had never learned that Logan very often did the opposite of what he demanded just to be contrary.

Logan had signed his life over to the US Army the following week.

The thought of deploying overseas had been a slight worry, but not enough to stop him from joining. Less and less people had been killed on deployment, though they were still in a war, the recruiter had made sure to tell him.

The injury rates, though, were still substantial, which he’d found out the hard way. At the end of the 6th year, mere weeks from going home, he’d been in his third IED attack. The difference being that this time, everyone in the truck with him had died.

And it had been his fault. The recon trip had been acting upon one of his hunches.

Even now, seven months later, when his thoughts landed on that day, his stomach hollowed out and he felt like he was going to throw up. A lot of guys completely lost the day they were injured, but that hadn’t been his case. He remembered every single word, every single sight, every single smell, every single scream. He didn’t have the luxury of forgetting.

Reaching Into his bag on the desk, he retrieved a small bottle of whiskey and took a swallow. It burned going down, which was good. It meant he was still here, still feeling something.

When his phone buzzed on the nightstand, he almost didn’t bother to move from the chair. It probably wasn’t anyone he needed to speak to right that moment. Something urged him to move, though, and he grabbed the phone. Not a number he recognized.

“Hello?” he rasped.

“I’m so sorry, did I wake you?”

It took a moment to recognize the husky voice. “Um, Mari, Marigold?”

The young woman with the startling green eyes and the curvy hips.

“Yup,” she laughed. “It’s me. Hey, I didn’t know if you had a ride to the dinner tonight or not.”

Logan frowned. “What dinner?”

“The big birthday dinner for the new branch in Columbus.”

“Um, no. I don’t have anything to do with that.”

She sighed on the other end of the line. “I know, but John and Shannon thought it would be good for you to be there. And I think Gunny Palmer had some more questions for you. There’s no sense in sitting in a hotel room alone when you could be hanging with other vets talking shit.”

Logan chuckled a little. That’s exactly what they did, talked shit. “I’m not even part of the company.”

“I know that,” she repeated patiently. “Are you dressed?”

He looked down at his boxers and t-shirt. “Kind of.”

“You have five minutes. I’m on my way up.”

“Wait, Mari...”

The dial tone rang in the silence of the room. Shit. Did he really want to go hang out with a bunch of people he didn’t even know? Fuck...

She didn’t give him time to take a shower, but by the time Marigold knocked on his door, Logan was mostly dressed and put together. “I don’t know why I’m even going to this...” his voice drifted away as he caught sight of her.

Marigold had made an impact on him earlier that day. The name was distinctive, and she had the look of the kind of woman he normally enjoyed. Now she stood on his doorstep and something about her made him shut up and stare. She was, quite simply, beautiful. He’d thought cute earlier. Not classically cute like a petite little waif type, but cute in an athletic way. She was kind of solid, like she’d spent years playing softball. Strong legs, broader hips, slightly muscular arms, all revealed by the tight stone-washed jeans she wore and the long sleeved, shimmery dark gray blouse. Wow, that really worked with her dark hair. She’d done something to her eyes to make them appear larger than they were, the lashes thick and dark. Her hair fell in a dark straight sheet down her back, and he wondered of it was as soft as it looked.

Logan blinked, then looked at her again. Her eyes were startling green, but there was a shard of gold in the center. Not hazel, but green and gold together. Or was she wearing contacts? Her glasses were gone, and her irises were a little fuzzy around the edges. Maybe they were enhancing the color? Even if they were, the color was stunning.

He blinked, realizing he’d been standing there not saying anything for way too long. “Sorry, you just took me by surprise. You look beautiful, Marigold.”

Pink touched her cheeks, then her dark brows dropped, and she blinked. “Thank you. I think. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Really.” He backed into the room. “Just give me a minute to finish up. I had settled down for the night already.”

She glanced at the slim silver watch on her wrist. “It’s, like, six o’clock. Are you eighty?”

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