Page 9 of Nightclub Surprise
I might have ason.
“Is the young lady unsure of who the father is?” he asked withconcern.
“I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t know. We didn’t get to talk much. I ran into her at the Science Center; she was there for her son’s field trip. She had to get going, but I told her I’d like to take her out sometime and sheagreed.”
“Oh, I don’t think you’re ready for a relationship, August,” he interrupted me. “You’re doing well, but that might put too much stress on you. I know I’ve cautioned you about your business dealings being too much for you, and for the most part they haven’t been. But a woman and a child, too? I’m afraid of what might happen. A grown woman might be able to handle one of your episodes, but a child…well, you’d scare a child if you had one in front of the poorthing.”
Even he thought I wasn’t ready. But why did everyone keep saying shit about a relationship? It was one damn date! “Okay, so a relationship is out for me right now. But how about one date,Doc?”
“You knew this girl from back home. You think you might be the father of her child, and you think this is about one date?” he asked me with a hard tone. “This isn’t about one date and you know it, or else you wouldn’t have called me. This is about getting involved with two people, her and her son. And that’s a thing you’re not ready for. Perhaps if you’d stayed on either of the medications I’ve prescribed for you, then you’d be ready for something like this. You’re the one who refuses to take medication to help yourcondition.”
“I didn’t like the way they made me feel. I don’t like to go through life feeling numb, Doc. And therapy is working for me. If you’ll recall, I’ve only had three episodes in the last four months. I’m getting a hell of a lot better.” Someone besides me had to see the fact that I was whipping this PTSD shit’s ass without the use ofpills.
“Wait until after our usual appointment to ask this young woman out. That’s my opinion—the thing you called me to get, I’ll remind you. Goodbye, August, see you nextThursday.”
The call over, my doctor’s orders given, I put my phone down and dropped myhead.
If I could do anything over again, it would be to make sure I didn’t lose my Glock on that raid that night. If I had never lost it, then I would’ve never been issued a new one. A faulty one. It wouldn’t have misfired, and it wouldn’t have left one of my good friends and fellow marines dead. Then I wouldn’t have this PTSD shit—or not quite as bad as I had it,anyway.
John Black, a good man and a friend, is the reason I received the millions of dollars that I then turned into billions. I’d won a lawsuit against the manufacturer of the gun that killed John, and walked the payout into an investment firm owned by my now partner, Gannon Forester. Gannon took the money and invested it in the same things he’d investedin.
All I wanted the money for in the first place was to keep John Black’s name alive. I might’ve accidentally killed the man, but by the Grace of God, I was able to make generous donations to charities around the world, helping people in hisname.
I’d achieved my goal in that regard, but I had yet to reach my goal of being able to live a normal life as a civilian—to reach my goal of not being tortured by what happened that awful day. The attacks would always start out of nowhere; I’d be living my life as usual, and then I’d see John, clear as day. My heart would pound, thinking the same damn thing every time: he’salive!
I’d smile at the man who looked healthy as a horse, the way he always had. I’d call out his name then something would flash, and the sound of a bullet ripping through the air would sizzle in my head. John’s face would become distorted, and then he’d get hit in the side of the head with the bullet that had exited my Glock all on itsown.
Blood would pool around him as he lay on the floor, his blue eyes open still, looking at me, silently asking what I had done to him. And that’s when I’d begin screaming. Over and over, I’d scream his name and then I’d just scream until someone managed to drag me back toreality.
I wouldn’t wish that life on anyone. But I sure as hell wish it would just go the fuck away and leave mealone.
John Black couldn’t come back. The money I’d made went to helping others. I’d made sure that some positives would come out of that terrible moment. But my brain refused to let it go. My mind held that horrible memory in a steel cage. And when I least expected it, the cage would open, replaying the scene for me to experience in its entirety oncemore.
When would the painend?
ChapterSix
Tawny
A week and a half passed with no call from August. Maybe he’d been too busy, or too involved with someone else to make the call. I had no idea, but I knew one thing for sure—I didn’t ever want to be a burden to the man, especially not after he’d served ourcountry.
If he didn’t want to see me, then so be it. I’d dealt with worse scenarios before—I’d already handled the idea that I’d never get to lay eyes on him again, or that he’d never come back alive. I could learn to handle the fact that we lived in the same town, and that he knew that, but just didn’t wantme.
That night we’d shared, the things we’d said to each other, it was all just a fantasy. Our emotions were heightened, and we were both living a dream, afraid of the future. None of it was real. Well, none of it on his partanyway.
The fact remained that I’d felt as if I belonged to August Harlow for a long time. A big piece of my heart had become his with our first touch. I wouldn’t say I’d pined for him after he left—not exactly—but a part of me had changed that night. He’d filled my dreams for years, and even in the more recent years, he’d sneak into them every now andthen.
Lately, ever since I’d seen him again, he’d become all I could think about: about the scent of his hair and how it’d feel if I could run my hands through it again; about how his body would look now with nothing coveringit.
I bet he’s got tatsnow.
What kinds of tattoos would I find covering his tanned flesh? What new and interesting things did he have to talk about or show me? Would that old chemistry still ignite the passion it had seven yearsago?
I wanted nothing more than to get answers to all those questions and the many others that filled my mind. But I wasn’t going to get any answers because, for whatever reason, August chose not to call me. He chose not to take me out the way he’d said he wanted to at the Science Center. He chose to ignoreme.
And I was going to let him. Because he didn’t owe me athing.
After dropping Calum off at school, I headed to do a little shopping—window shopping, that is. I couldn’t afford a thing on Rodeo Drive, but it didn’t stop me from walking up and down the sidewalks to look at all the hip and trendy things displayed in the manywindows.
