Page 49 of Stormswept Colorado

He’d spoken matter-of-factly, but his grip on my hand tightened.

“I was very lucky,” he went on. “I was trapped and nearly bled out, and my shoulder got fucked up. But I survived and didn’t lose any limbs. All of my friends in the first vehicle were killed. Same with the guy sitting next to me.”

“How awful. I can’t imagine.”

“It was the worst day of my life. The days immediately after that weren’t so hot either.”

I squeezed his hand. “You left the service afterward?”

“Mainly because of my shoulder.” He rolled his right shoulder a few times, the one closest to me. “It still acts up. Gets stiff. Especially when the weather’s bad.”

“I had my head on that shoulder! You should’ve said something.”

His lips quirked. “You weren’t hurting me.”

“Does massage help?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Sometimes.”

I shifted around so I could reach his shoulder. My hands seemed so small against him. I gently pushed into the thick muscle. “How’s that?”

“Nice.” The word came deep from his throat. I felt him watching me, but for some reason, I couldn’t lift my eyes to meet his.

“Do the scars hurt?” I asked.

“Not anymore.”

“Do you miss it?”

My question was vague, but he understood what I meant. “I miss the people I served with. Especially the ones who didn’t make it home. Wish we could grab a drink, catch up, but we can’t. The Army was my life for a very long time. But I enjoy being home, having so much time with Ollie and Piper. My family is what drives me. The guys I served with, the best ones, they felt the same. Family is everything.”

I kept kneading his shoulder over his uniform shirt, but my eyes stung.

Geez, he was telling me important things about himself, things that were hard to talk about, and my brain was making this about me. My childhood growing up on Army bases, surrounded by men who looked like Teller. For all I knew, Teller could’ve been one of them.

But the man inmyfamily back then, who was supposed to love us, protect us, only made me feel worthless.

Something hot and bitter streaked down my cheek.

I pulled back and turned toward the window, but Teller reached out, his huge palm cupping the side of my neck. “Ayla?”

I sniffled and wiped my face. “It’s not you. I was thinking of something else.”

“Your father?”

My body jolted. “What do you know about that?”

“Callum told me a little about it. You ran away from home at sixteen because of your father, the colonel. He hurt you.”

Teller said that as a statement, not a question. Like he didn’t need any confirmation, didn’t have anydoubt. He believed me already before I’d had to say a word. But still, I nodded. “Yes.”

“I am so sorry he did that to you.”

My skin was all hot and cold. Hot tears, cold from the air because I wasn’t inside Teller’s circle of warmth anymore. I edged closer, and he helped me pull the blankets around us both again. Teller’s words from earlier repeated in my head.

You can trust me, Ayla. If you want to talk, I’m here.

A few days ago, even a few hours ago, that had felt impossible. But I found myself opening my mouth. And it all just poured out.

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