Authors: Kathryn Shay
Tags: #ptsd, #contemporary romance, #single parent dating, #firefighter romance, #parents and sons, #firemen romance, #war veteran romance
“
Your dad called me. He said you’d
asked for me.”
Had he? What could she do for him? “I changed
my mind. I’m fine.”
“
You were arrested, Len. Your dad had
to go down to the jail and bail you out.”
Holy mother of Christ. Turning over, propping
himself up on the pillow, he found her standing before him, her
hair back in a ponytail like she used to wear when they first met.
He watched her pull a chair up to the bed with the gracefulness
he’d always loved about her.
She asked, “Do you remember anything?”
“
No, I blacked out after I
drank.”
“
You probably had another PTSD attack.
Yours seem to be worse with the alcohol.”
He threw his forearm over his eyes. “What
does it matter?”
“
You don’t remember what you were going
to do?”
He shook his head.
“
Len, you had a gun in the car. It had
been fired.”
So he did try it. Fucking first-class
shit!
“
Your dad says he thinks you tried to
shoot yourself in the parking lot of a liquor store but were so
drunk you missed. A bullet was embedded in the
backseat.”
“
Jesus.” He managed to sit up
straighter and took a good look at her. She was so pretty and he
wished like hell he could have her back. Then everything would be
all right. “How much trouble am I in?”
“
You were arrested for DUI. Apparently
you have a permit for the gun.”
He felt like the biggest loser in the
world.
You are.
She fidgeted with the strap of her purse.
“Len, do you want to die?”
“
Why not? It’s better than the
alternative.”
“
What about Josh?”
“
He’d be good without me. Then you and
your guy could raise him and live happily-ever-after.”
She stiffened. “You know about…What are you
saying?”
“
I called the house. Josh said you had
a date last night with a doctor.”
“
Oh, Len, is that what brought this
on?”
“
No. I been thinking about it a
lot.”
“
You need help.”
Maybe he did. He either had to die or get out
of this emotional hellhole. “From the fire guy?”
“
We could start with Beck. But I heard
at work that the VA hospital has a special program now for soldiers
who are suicidal. It’s, um, in-house.”
“
What does that mean?”
“
You’d be admitted to a unit for six
weeks and get extensive treatment.”
Don’t do it, asshole. Just throw in the
towel.
Reaching out, she touched his arm. “Please,
Lennie, I might be able to get you in. Do it for Josh.”
Josh will be better off without you.
After a moment, Len rolled over on his side,
and away from her. Nothing was clear and he didn’t want to deal
with reality anymore today.
o0o
Beck climbed the staircase of Lela’s house
for the second time tonight. The boys had wanted to go up and watch
TV on her bed, together and without him, so he couldn’t resist
taking a look around.
It was a cute little two-story in a quiet
part of town—just a small kitchen with a dinette in the back, a
large living room and playroom in front. Upstairs were three
bedrooms. She’d decorated the whole place with earth tones,
microfiber couches and chairs, pictures of Josh all over the walls,
some with Len and some with her. He hadn’t found any of the three
of them together.
Len. How was Lela faring through all that?
His heart had gone out to her when she’d gotten the call. And
though he knew better to feel this way with a PTSD sufferer, he was
pissed as hell at the guy for putting Lela through this emotional
trauma.
As he reached the top of the stairs, he heard
a commercial about saving money with a local insurance company and
headed in that direction. Initially, he’d checked on the boys to
make sure they got settled with something appropriate on TV, then
headed downstairs without spending too much time in her bedroom.
Being in there did things to him, made him feel things he had no
right to experience.
Now, at the doorway, he saw both boys
sprawled out on the mattress—sound asleep. He glanced at his watch.
Ten. They were facing each other, and for once, Tommy looked at
peace. For some reason, Lela’s son had gotten to
his
son
with unbelievably positive results. What would happen if he told
Tommy he couldn’t see Josh again? The thought depressed him and he
vowed no matter what happened to keep the boys together.
Still at the doorway, he studied the room.
The walls and carpet were done in soft blues and greens with peach
accents. Pretty, white furniture. Pastel prints of seascapes. Did
she like the beach? The space suited her—feminine but strong. And
man, she was strong. She handled everything fate shot her way, and
fate had been cruel to her.
He stepped inside the room. After shutting
off the TV, he crossed to the small mirrored vanity in the corner.
Bottles and jars lined the surface. He picked up an odd-shaped one,
took off the top and sniffed. Immediately, he got hard. It smelled
so much like her, he couldn’t stop his reaction.
Quickly, he capped the jar, moved to the bed
to cover the boys with a throw and left the room hurriedly. Ten
minutes later, he was stretched out on the couch, reading a
magazine, when he heard Lela enter the kitchen through the garage
door. Soon, she appeared in the living room.
Her face was pale and her lips thinned. She
stared at him silently. He rose and went to her. She put up her
hand, palm facing out. “No, don’t. I’ll break down and I can’t
afford that.”
“
It’d make you feel better.”
She shook her head firmly.
He stepped back. “Okay, then come sit on the
couch.”
When she did, he took her hand—her
ice
cold
hand.
“
Was it bad?”
“
Oh, Beck, they think he tried to kill
himself, but he downed a pint of vodka so fast, he missed. The
bullet lodged in the backseat; its trajectory was about two inches
from his head.”
“
Jesus.”
She raised her free hand. “What do you do
about something like this?”
“
He’s got to get help.”
She described the VA program she’d learned
about at work.
“
Do you think he’d go?” Len didn’t
sound sane enough to make that decision.
“
I brought it up. He didn’t say
yes.”
“
I can talk to him.”
She nodded. “Maybe that would help.”
Studying the lines near her eyes and the
mauve smudges beneath them, he brushed his knuckles down her cheek.
“You’re exhausted. Do you think you can sleep?”
“
I don’t know.” She glanced around as
if a thought had just entered her mind. “Where are the
boys?”
“
They fell asleep on your bed, watching
TV.”
She sank back on the cushion as if fatigue
had caught up with her. “Oh.”
“
I’ll wake Tommy and take him
home.”
Silence. A long meaningful look from her.
“
What?” he asked.
She waited, and he could see she was torn
about something. “Do you think you could stay here tonight? Let the
boys sleep on my bed. I’ll go into Josh’s room and you can have the
spare room.”
“
Why?”
“
I don’t know. I just want you in the
house.” She bit her bottom lip in a rare show of
vulnerability.
“
Yeah, sure, I can do that. But I’ll
sleep down here on the couch.”
She cocked her head in question.
“
I don’t want to be upstairs with you,
Lee. I don’t trust myself to sleep that close to you.”
“
I understand. That’s probably
best.”
And probably one of the hardest things he’d
have to do concerning her. He wanted nothing more than to sleep
with her in his arms.
“
Go on up now. Get some rest. We’ll
talk more in the morning.”
“
Thanks.” Her hand trembled when he let
go and he had all he could do not to clasp her to him.
Finally, she stood, crossed the room and
disappeared up the staircase. Eventually, he lay down on the couch.
He checked his watch; it was close to eleven. He rarely went to bed
this early, but he closed his eyes and tried to block out the
images of Lela suffering alone above him in her child’s bed.
o0o
Lela bolted upright. It was pitch-black in
the room. She felt the space around her. A little bed. She sniffed
scents of Play-Doh and crayons. Why was she in Josh’s room at the
back of the house? Josh. Tommy. Beck. Oh, God. Len had tried to
kill himself!
She fell back onto the pillows and willed the
tears that threatened away. She couldn’t cry. She’d seen obscene
things most people couldn’t imagine. She wasn’t going to bawl like
a baby over the situation with her ex-husband.
But the images kept coming.
A gun.
A pint of vodka.
The city jail.
And Len, lying in the bed, telling her he
didn’t want to live anymore.
Then the recriminations began…if she hadn’t
left him…if she hadn’t dated…if she was stronger and could make him
get help…
Though she knew none of those were the root
cause of his depression, her inadequacies plagued her until her
thoughts became too much to bear. Throwing off the light sheet, she
slid out of bed; the floor was cold against her bare feet as she
walked out of the room. She was halfway downstairs when she
realized she was braless, in a white T-shirt and navy pajama
bottoms. Damn it, she didn’t care. Beck was here and she was drawn
to him.
The living room was cast in shadows, but
light from the street lamps seeped in through the blinds. Tiptoeing
across the carpet, she found him sound asleep on the couch—he was
on his back, one arm thrown over his head. He’d unbuttoned the
checked shirt he wore with jeans—which were also unsnapped—and Lela
imagined a sprinkling of hair on his chest that was just a shade or
two darker than his hair.
As she stood beside the couch, she was
overcome with need—not lust—to be close to him. To have him shield
her, for a little while, from the pain she felt over what had
happened with Len.
The couch was wide but not wide enough to lie
down next to him. So she perched on the very edge of a cushion and
he came awake fast.
“
What?” He didn’t bolt up, though his
body tensed.
“
I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to startle
you, but…” she shrugged her shoulders. “I just…I wanted to lie next
to you. I feel so bad.” Her voice cracked on the last
word.
“
Aw, baby.” Turning on his side, he
slid farther into the pillows, making room for her. “Come
here.”
She stretched out on her side, too, so they
were spoon fashion. His arms went around her and settled at her
waist. She felt the brush of his lips on her hair, then a soft,
“Better?”
Settling into his embrace, she nodded. “A
lot.”
“
Go to sleep, then.”
“
Okay. You, too.”
“
You kidding? I’m gonna stay awake and
enjoy this.”
She chuckled. He laughed and then they
quieted. Heavy, her eyes closed. But she felt safe for the first
time all night and her last thought was,
Now, I can make
it.
o0o
From Beck’s perspective, Hale’s Haven ranked
right up there in his Best Things column, and had ever since he’d
heard Jenn Malvaso talk about it at the firehouse. Gabe had
encouraged Beck to come to this informational meeting for Junior
Hale’s Haven.
It’s a good cause. We all work at one of the
camps on our shift off plus furlough time. I think you’d like it,
Beck.
That was Gabe, always trying to pull him into
something. But how did he say no to a program so worthwhile?
Besides, the meeting would keep his mind off sleeping with Lela in
his arms last night.
“
Hi, everybody,” Jenn said to the
volunteers. If we haven’t met before, I’m Jenn Malvaso.”
“
O’Connor, woman!” someone yelled out
from the group. Beck turned to see Grady O’Connor wink at his wife.
Beck had worked with him a few times and found him to be one of the
nicest guys in the whole department. But here it was again—that
mile-wide-grin happiness that had infected the HCFD.
“
Can it, O’Connor. You know the rules
at work.” She faced the group. “In any case, thanks to all of you
for coming. As you know, we’re going to put on an additional week
this year for kids under seven. They can’t attend the overnight
camp because they’re too little, but once again, we’re modeling
this program on the upstate New York Camp and calling it Junior
Hale’s Haven.”
“
You know all about kiddies these
days,” someone else said. Zach, Jenny’s brother. “How are the
twins, sis?”
Instead of putting him in his place, she
smiled. “That I do, so listen up. We’ve identified ten kids in the
area who qualify for this program and hope they’ll all come. So
we’ll need ten volunteers at least: one for each camper, since an
adult has to accompany the child everywhere. And I mean everywhere.
They’re little and they run away.”
“
Guess that lets Mitch out,” Zach
added. “He’s too old to chase after babies.”
“
Watch your mouth.” The comment came
from a woman off to the side. She was pretty, with dark blond hair
and blue eyes. This was Megan Hale, the founder of the camp. She’d
come once to the firehouse to visit her brother-in-law, and Beck
had seen her at a few social events. “Mitch can run circles around
you any day, Zaccaria.”