Laura's Wolf (Werewolf Marines) (32 page)

“How about…” Laura trailed off, uncertain how to phrase it.

“The soap scum? It’s all over me.” Roy lowered his head to gaze into his coffee mug, as if whatever he had to say would be impossible if he looked Laura in the eyes. “I know this sounds funny, but you were a lot more honest with me than I was with you. I wasn’t deliberately trying to mislead you. It’s hard to talk about. It’s hard to
think
about. But I wanted you to know, if… if it wouldn’t make you think less of me.”

Laura put her arms around his shoulders. His body jerked as if she’d startled him, though she knew he’d seen what she intended.

“Of course it doesn’t. If you touch fire, you get burned. If…” Laura had to brace herself before she could go on. “If you’re forced to choose someone to die, you feel guilty. You can’t stop thinking about it while you’re awake. You dream about it when you sleep. What does that say about me?”

Roy tapped Laura’s chest, where he’d pinned the imaginary medal. “It says you’re an incredibly courageous, resourceful, quick-witted person who went through hell, and it left a mark on you. Like you said, if you touch fire, you get burned.”

“So what does it say about you?”

“The same, I guess.” He didn’t sound convinced.

Laura squeezed his hand. “Listen to me, Roy. I think you’re strong, and tough, and brave, and hot, and sweet, and funny, and caring, and all-over awesome. You took a bullet for me. You even cleaned my bathroom, and it’s probably harder to find a man who’ll do that.”

Roy smiled a little at that.

“I love
you
, not some imaginary superhero who can bounce bullets off his chest,” Laura went on. “You believe me, right?”

“Yeah.” He still sounded doubtful, then seemed to hear himself. “Yeah, I do. I guess the person who really needs to stop thinking I ought to be Captain America is me.”

“You’re already starting to.”

“Am I?”

“You told me about your PTSD.” Laura didn’t miss his tiny flinch at the word. “And a couple minutes ago, I asked you how you felt and you told me.”

“Okay, but how do
you
feel?” Roy asked abruptly. “How hard is this for you? Please don’t lie to make me feel better.”

“It’s not as bad as you’re probably imagining,” Laura assured him. “I hate seeing you in so much pain, but I can handle it if you tell me what’s going on instead of stonewalling me. Your stories aren’t too disturbing for me to hear; I’m not some delicate flower, and I’ve been through a lot myself. And I don’t mind taking care of you when you need it. Actually, I kind of like it. It satisfies my nurturing instincts.”

Laura hoped he’d believe her. After all, she was being completely honest.

And then she realized that she was conning him in the exact same way he’d done to her. She hadn’t done it deliberately either, but she too had told the truth while leaving out the most important part.

Misery seeped into her, bitter and cold. What she’d just done was exactly what she was afraid of doing—what she was afraid to even mention.

“And…?” Roy asked, frowning. “What are you not telling me?”

The only way Laura could force herself to say it was to remind herself that it must have been at least as difficult for Roy to tell his secrets to her. Unlike him, her eyes welled up at the thought of it, and her tears overflowed as she began to speak.

“You think your problems are
the
problem in this relationship,” she said, struggling to get the words out. “But what’s hardest for me isn’t what’s wrong with you. It’s what’s right. I’m crazy about you, Roy, and that scares me to death. I don’t know how to have a relationship. I’ve never had a serious boyfriend. I’ve never had any real friends. I lie for a living, and sometimes I don’t even notice when I’m doing it. I’m afraid I’ll screw this up, and I’ll hurt you. And then you’ll leave me. And it’ll be my fault.”

Laura sucked in a shaky breath. “I love you, and I absolutely believe that you love me. And that terrifies me.”

“Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.” Roy took his hand out from under the pillow so he could put both his arms around her. “I don’t know how to convince you I’ll stick around. Though maybe you’ve noticed I’m the loyal type.”

Laura tried to smile. “I’ve noticed.”

“But I can tell you that I’m pretty good at long-term relationships. I had the same girlfriend all the way through high school, until I enlisted and she went away to college. I’ve had three other serious girlfriends and I was with each of them for years, until they broke up with me. Leigh couldn’t take the stress of worrying about me getting killed, Holly got fed up with me being gone all the time, and Alison met someone else while I was deployed. If I’d stayed a civilian, I’d probably have gotten married years ago.” Roy caught himself, looking embarrassed. “And then I’d have met you and things would have gotten sticky. Sorry, that wasn’t where I meant to go with that.”

Laura patted his shoulder, her tears already drying up. “I know what you meant.”

“And then there’s the guys in my platoon,” Roy went on. “Different type of relationship, but you mentioned not having friends. Apart from that one incident with DJ, which only happened because I was out of my mind at the time, I’m extremely good at friendship.”

“I’ve noticed,” Laura said with a sigh. “When you told me about DJ standing over you with the Pop-Tart, I couldn’t help being jealous that at your absolute worst moments, you were always with someone who cared about you and was trying to help you.”

“I sure wish I’d seen it that way at the time. But didn’t you have anyone at all, when you needed help? Friends from the bank? Your father?”

“Dad offered me the cabin, but he was gone by the time I got here.” Laura shrugged. “And that’s Dad. He loves me, but he’s not going to rearrange his life on my behalf. As for friends from the bank, I woke up one night and I desperately wanted someone to talk to. But I didn’t have anyone’s phone number.”

“You can always wake me up and talk to me,” Roy promised her. “Always.”

Laura wanted to believe him. Even his solid weight in the bed beside her, tipping the mattress toward him and her body into his, suggested an unshakable stability.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she said. “I completely trust you. I don’t trust
me
.”

“So I’m more experienced with the long-term than you are,” Roy said. “That’s okay. Relationships are all about picking up the slack for each other. If I need to be talked down, or if I need emergency backup or to have someone persuaded, I’ve got you. If you need someone to stand by you and always be there for you, or if you need something destroyed or someone shot, you’ve got me.”

Laura giggled, then put her hand over her mouth. “I don’t know what it says about me that I thought that was funny.”

“It says we have compatible senses of humor. You should hang out at a police station lunch room some time. You’ll hear way darker jokes than that.” Roy put his hand over hers. “How are you doing? Do you believe me?”

Laura nodded slowly. “It’ll take some time to sink in. But maybe you can hold up the part that makes sure we’ll have time. How about you? How are you feeling?”

“I’m better, thanks,” Roy said immediately. But his shoulders were like steel bars under her arms, and the skin around his mouth and eyes was taut with pain.

“Really, Captain America?”

“Ouch,” said Roy. “Well—I felt better while I was talking to you. We should have an in-depth discussion of our relationship every time I’m feeling bad. But no, not really. I’m exhausted and my head aches and my stomach’s upset and I feel like fucking Gregor is going to walk through the wall at any second, or maybe a bunch of suicide bombers. Where’s your ibuprofen?”

Laura reached into her purse, which was on the floor, and passed him the bottle. “Here you go.”

Roy opened it, a little clumsily; his hands were shaking. He looked down at them, then up at Laura. “I
could
get up—”

“Don’t.” Laura had never met DJ or Marco, but she completely understood how they must have felt when they’d tried to force Roy to see a doctor. “You’re sick, Roy. It doesn’t matter why. Get some rest.”

“I will. I just wanted you to know that if I have to fight, I can. Look, I’ll show you.”

“You don’t have to—” Laura began.

“Safety’s on, don’t worry.” Roy moved the pillow aside, put the pills down on the mattress, and closed his hand over the gun. Like magic, his tremor vanished.

“That’s amazing,” Laura said, fascinated. “You couldn’t stop it before, right?”

“No. I used to practice shooting with a dime balanced on the barrel, to teach my hands to keep absolutely still when I held a gun. Now it’s instinct.” Roy let go of the gun and replaced the pillow. His hands immediately began to tremble. “Well, there it goes again. But if Gregor or Donnie shows up, you won’t be on your own. Don’t worry about that.”

“I wasn’t. I’m more worried about you.” Before Roy could protest that she shouldn’t be, she added, “If either of them shows their creepy faces, I’ll say ‘freeze,’ and you can shoot them.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Roy swallowed the pills with a sip of coffee, leaning over the side table in case it spilled, and put down the cup. He’d drunk so little that if Laura hadn’t been watching him, she’d have thought he’d never even picked it up.

Laura touched her finger to her own mug. It had gone cold. “Want me to fix you some more coffee? Or tea?”

“No, thanks.”

“Or some toast? It might make you feel better.”

“It’d make me throw up. Sorry. I’ll be able to eat something by tonight, probably. Tomorrow, for sure.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Laura felt completely helpless.

“No. I just have to ride it out…” Roy took a deep breath, his fists clenching, as if he was gearing up to lift some enormous weight. “Yes, there is something. I’d like you to stay with me. Could you lie down beside me? Just for a little while?”

Laura slid under the covers and pulled Roy close to her, knowing how hard it must have been for him to ask. “As long as you need.”

“Thanks. See, that was being a good friend. You do know how to do it.” Roy lay quietly, his hair mingling with hers. Laura wondered what he was thinking. She only knew he had fallen asleep when his hands stilled.

Laura had been upset and jittery the day after she’d had nightmares, but she’d never felt too sick to get out of bed. She’d skipped meals because she’d lost her appetite, but if she made herself eat, she felt better. Roy had said he wasn’t physically ill, but in the state he was in, that didn’t seem like a meaningful distinction.

She wondered if he’d ever truly heal. He’d said he’d never been the same after the ambush, but she suspected that it had only pushed him over an edge he’d already been standing on. All those years of stress and fear, of fighting and killing and watching people die. If it had taken twelve years to break him, would it take another twelve for him to mend?

If Laura had spent her entire adult life without ever getting truly close to anyone, would it take her another lifetime to learn to love and be loved?

Roy pulled her tighter into his body, his eyes fluttering half-open.

“I love you,” he mumbled, sounding two-thirds still asleep. “I won’t leave you. On my honor, I swear I won’t.”

Laura kissed him, blinking back tears.

Roy immediately fell back asleep, making her wonder if he’d ever really woken up. He reminded her of a man in a fever, drifting from fitful sleep to confused waking. But it comforted her to know that no matter how tired he was or how much he was suffering himself, he was still looking out for her.

Maybe it didn’t matter if they both needed years more to heal. They didn’t have to wait till they had perfected themselves to live their lives and be together. They could start now, as they were. They had already started.

Chapter Eighteen: Laura

Rescue Mission

“Okay, I’ve found the problem,” said Roy. “Give me fifteen minutes, and we’ll have our hot water back.”

“You’re so handy,” Laura said admiringly to Roy’s back. Or, more accurately, to Roy’s butt. The rest of him was wedged behind the water heater, which had stopped working that morning. They’d discovered that the hard way when they’d tried to take a shower together. Roy hadn’t so much as twitched, but Laura had practically levitated out of the stall.

She was glad he was perfectly happy to crawl behind the water heater and mess around with pipes and stuff, because not only did she have no idea how to fix it, she wasn’t remotely dressed for home repairs. She’d meant to do laundry and was wearing her last remaining clean outfit, the bank teller skirt and blouse she’d driven up in.

“It’s nothing complicated,” Roy replied, his voice muffled. “Like I said: fifteen minutes, and then we can shower. And then maybe go hunting?”

“Sure.”

Laura was glad to hear him sound so energetic and cheerful. He’d been sick all day after his nightmare, but by the next morning, he seemed to have recovered completely. Three days and nights had passed since, and he’d had no more problems. Laura didn’t fool herself into thinking that would be the end of it, but she hoped he’d at least have a nice long break before the next attack.

“Pass me the wrench.” He reached back with a dusty hand.

As she put it in his palm, he froze. The wrench started to slide, and his fingers closed over it just before it would have fallen.

Roy extracted himself from behind the water heater and turned to Laura, still holding the wrench. She immediately knew that something important and dangerous was about to happen; he was poised and ready like a wolf ready to pounce on its prey.

“I hear a Harley,” he said. “I think it’s DJ.”

Adrenaline flooded Laura’s veins, setting her heart pounding and her skin prickling. Once DJ arrived, they’d brief him on the situation, and go rescue Gregor’s hostages that night.

That night, Laura would face Gregor again. She’d rescue Keisha and the others. People would die. Roy was going to kill someone on her behalf. Roy
might die on her behalf. Laura herself could die.

That night, she and Roy would risk their lives together.