Ruthless: Contemporary Military Romance (9 page)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

That time arrived much too soon for Matt’s liking. They traveled the country for another three weeks before it happened. They explored New Orleans and then the rest of Louisiana, because they fell in love with it. They were dangerously close to Texas, but they didn’t mind much; the fact that they were so close also meant that no one would probably go looking for them there. Then one day, in Baton Rouge, as they were getting ready to go to the bus station and head over to Boston, Holly burst into the motel room they were sharing. She was red in the face with excitement, and her grey eyes danced.

“You’re not going to believe this!” she cried. Her voice rose of a couple of octaves.

Matt had never seen her this over the moon before. “What is it?” he asked, intrigued.

“I was taking a look at the newspapers in the motel lobby, and look what I found!” She thrust the newspaper she was clutching at him.

Matt took it awkwardly and spread it open. “What am I looking at?”

“There!” Holly all but squealed. She flipped the pages over his shoulder and pointed at one small article on a left column.

Matt looked down. He read the title. He skimmed through the article. He looked back up at her again. “What am I looking at?” he repeated.

Holly huffed. “Do you know who Katarina Prezsinova is?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious that I have no clue.”

“She’s one of the major artists of our time, probably the brightest star of her generation.”

“Oh?” It meant pretty much nothing to Matt, but he had the feeling it meant pretty much everything to Holly.

“She has just joined the staff of Boston’s most prestigious arts school, and they’re offering scholarships to celebrate the occasion. Provided that one is deserving, of course.”

Matt stared at her. He had a sinking, cold feeling in his stomach. He did his best to cover it up. “And you’re thinking of applying?”

“I couldn’t afford to get in any other way,” Holly said. “And this is
Katarina Prezsinova
. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

You’re a once in a lifetime opportunity,
Matt thought, but he didn’t voice it. Aloud, he just said, “I see.” And then, because he realized he was not being very supportive, he added, “Í’m happy for you.” He forced out a smile that would not fool a stranger, let alone Holly, who in a little over three weeks had learned to know him in ways no one else except his sister did.

Indeed, Holly wasn’t fooled. She sighed, her beautiful features darkening. “I’m sorry, Matt,” she said. “I’ve got to do this.”

“I know. It doesn’t mean I have to like it, does it?” He asked gently, placing the newspaper aside on the still unmade bed.

“I suppose not,” Holly said after a moment. “You understand leaving you won’t be easy for me either, right?” She looked at him with trepidation in her gray eyes.

Matt nodded. “I know,” he said, because he did. He knew she cared about him, but he also knew she had things she needed to do. Just like he did. “We always knew this moment would come eventually. I had just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.”

“Me too,” Holly said quietly. “Truly. You believe me, don’t you?”

Matt gave her a reassuring smile and cupped her cheek tenderly with one hand. “I believe you,” he said, leaning in to kiss her gently.

She leaned into his touch, but he stepped back. She looked quizzically at him.

“I think it’s best we say goodbye now.”

Holly’s face fell. “Now?” she asked, her voice already breaking. “You’re not coming to Boston?”

“No. Why would I? I would just have to say goodbye the minute we set foot in it. I’d rather say goodbye now.”

Holly’s features hardened. “Very well, then.”

Matt sighed. “Don’t be like that, Holly.”

“Like what?” She asked, in a cool tone of voice that chilled him to the bone.

“I’m only trying to go for some self-preservation.”

“Fine. Do it. Self-preserve.”

“You’re impossible.”

Holly shrugged. She walked over to where her duffel bag lay and picked it up, shouldering it with one smooth movement. She had gotten stronger over the past three weeks of travel. She walked to the door and then stopped. She turned around

“Are you really going to do this?” She said. “Are you really going to let me go?”

Matt let out another heavy sigh. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“You could come with me. We could take one more travel together. We could make the best of the little time we have left together.”

“Our time together is over, Holly,” Matt said, as gently as he could. “Please, don’t drag this out. Saying goodbye is hard enough.”

There it came again, that stone cold expression on Holly’s delicate features. “All right then,” she said. “Be safe, Matt.”

“You too.”

Matt watched her go. She didn’t slam the door, but he winced anyway when it clicked shut; it felt like cannon fire to his ears. He sat down slowly, his legs gradually buckling underneath him until his ass hit the mattress—that same mattress where he and Holly had made mad, passionate love to each other for the past two nights.

Matt hunched forward and took his head in his hands. His mind began to reel as the enormity of what had just happened began to really sink in. It was over. It was done. He had lost her. Holly had walked out of his life with the grace with which she had walked in—more or less silently, discreetly.

He rubbed his hands over his face. Had he just made the biggest mistake of his life? Should he have gone with her? Should he have done all he could to make every day count? Every minute, every hour? It all was precious as long as it was spent with Holly, after all. But no, he decided after a moment. He had made the right call. He couldn’t bring himself to run one more mile with her knowing that there would be a goodbye waiting at the end of the journey. He simply couldn’t.

Holly, Matt reflected, was the best thing that had ever happened to him. In the span of a little over three short weeks, she had taught him more than he had learned in twenty-five years of life and five tours in two of the hottest war zones on the planet. He had thought the time spent with her would be some sort of intermission, a breathing space before he plunged into the dark waters of the journey that lay ahead and that would ultimately—hopefully—bring him to find himself. Instead he now realized that Holly had been a crucial, vital part of that journey all along. Next to her, he had already begun to discover himself again. Little by little, while he was with Holly, he learned something new or re-learned something long forgotten about himself every day.

He had to tell her, he realized suddenly. If nothing else, he at the very least owed her to let her know just what a crucial, major role she had played in his healing process. He wished he could also tell her about his feelings for her. It had been days since he realized he was in love with her, but he had never dared to say anything, and he wouldn’t now either; they both had too much important things to do now that would require their undivided attention. There was no room for the distraction of love.

Matt rushed outside, forgetting everything about his rucksack still in the room and not bothering to lock the door behind him. He sprinted towards the bus station. Conveniently, they never checked in to motels that were too far away from the town or city’s station, but it still felt like an insurmountable distance to him as he ran in the streets and through the Baton Rouge traffic. Cars honked and drivers cursed at him, but he didn’t care. He sped through it all. He felt like he was in a Nicholas Sparks movie, the kind his sister always forced him to watch while he was staying at her house in Clarksonville.

In those movies, however, he would have found the heroine waiting for him at the station, having changed her mind. Or he would have caught her bus just in time, and he would have been able to yell the words at her while she leaned out the window and watched his figure get smaller and smaller as the bus pulled out of the station.

But this was no movie, and when Matt finally arrived at the Baton Rouge bus station, Holly wasn’t there. Neither was her bus.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Holly sat in the bus seat, fuming and hurting and not knowing whether she wanted to cry or scream—in an ideal world, she would be doing both. How could he let her walk away like that? How could he give up some precious extra time together? How could he not want to push the awful goodbye moment as far ahead in the future as possible?

In retrospect, Holly figured she couldn’t blame him. Matt didn’t think in the same way she did. If it were up to her, they would be sitting side by side right now, enjoying each other’s company for as long as they could. She would make the most of every second, even if she knew there was a painful conclusion lying ahead. Matt, she had learned over the weeks they had spent together, wasn’t like that. If he knew there was pain ahead, he did the best to avoid it. It was just his way. Then again, he had known enough pain to last him a lifetime, whether Holly herself had never experienced real pain.

Until now. The searing ache that had begun to torment her chest ever since she had stepped out of the motel room wouldn’t let go. Holly knew what it was. She had known for weeks now that she had fallen in love with Matt. She hadn’t said anything, because she knew neither of them needed the distraction at this point of their lives—they had too much to do now, too much urgent matters demanding their total, undivided attention. So Holly had kept quiet, knowing that the moment to say goodbye to the man she loved would come soon enough, and knowing that it would hurt like a bitch. Still, nothing she could have expected even remotely compared to the sorrow she was experiencing right now. It was gut-wrenching.

She hunched forward in her seat and took her head in her hands. Her mind was reeling from the enormity of it all—the art school, her curt goodbye to Matt. It was beginning to really sink in now that it was done. It was over. She had lost him. She had walked out of Matt’s life, and Matt had let her. Holly blew out a slow, shaky breath. Was she making a mistake? Should she go back to him? Should she try to convince him again to make every day count? Should she let him know that every hour, every second was precious as long as she spent it with him?

No, she decided after a moment. She was making the right choice. She had things to do, after all, and so did he. What were a couple more days spent together? That painful goodbye would still be waiting for them at the end of the journey. It was best to get it out of the way now.

Matt was the best thing that had ever happened to her. In the span of a little over three short weeks, he had taught her more about herself and the world than she had learned in twenty-one years of life. She used to think that the time they spent together would be an intermission, a breathing space before they plunged, separately, into the dark waters of their individual journeys to discover themselves. But Holly knew now that wasn’t the case. She knew now that Matt was meant to be a crucial, vital part of her journey all along. Next to him, Holly had already begun to discover herself. Little by little, day by day, Matt unknowingly helped her to get to know herself in a way she never did.

She had to tell him, Holly realized suddenly. If nothing else, she at the very least owed it to him to let him know just what a major role he had played in her life. Holly got up, said “Excuse me” as she all but trampled over the feet of the unfortunate woman sitting next to her, grabbed her duffel bag from the luggage compartment overhead, and all but ran out of the bus. She hoped he would still be at the motel.

Holly ran through the walls and rivers of people crowding the Baton Rouge bus station. She felt like she was in a Nicholas Sparks movie, the kind that she loved so dearly.

She managed to avoid slamming into anyone for most of the way, only to come to a full-frontal when she was nearly out of the station.

“Shit!” She cursed loudly. “I’m sorry! Please move!”

“Holly?”

Holly froze. She looked up. But this
was
a Nicholas Sparks movie after all! Matt was standing there with a bemused expression on his face that probably mirrored the one on Holly’s own features.

“Matt?” she said, astonished. “What are you doing here?”

“I came looking for you. What are
you
doing?”

“I came to find you.”

Matt blinked. “Why?

“I didn’t want to leave things like that,” she said, her heart hammering in her chest. “And I wanted to tell you…well…I love you.” Her eyes widened. That most definitely was
not
what she had intended to say.

Matt stared at her, eyes equally wide. “You what?”

Holly swallowed. The cat was out of the bag, she might as well roll with it. “I love you,” she said. “I don’t want to go to Boston without you, or anywhere else for that matter.”

“But…what about the art school? And Katarina Whatever Her Name Is?”

Holly was so taken up by the moment that she didn’t even bother to supply her favorite artist’s last name. “They’ll both still be there. For now, I want to travel with you for a little while longer. If you’ll have me, that is.”

Matt was looking at her in disbelief. “I’ll have you,” he said after moments of silence that seemed never ending. “Of course I’ll have you. I love you, too.”

Holly sighed. The relief was so strong that she almost passed out from it. “You do?”

“I do. Otherwise why would I be chasing after you?”

Holly smiled. She fisted his T-shirt with one hand and pulled him to her for another passionate kiss, which she hoped would be one of a very long string.

“So where to?” she asked when they finally pulled back, both of them breathless and deliriously happy.

Matt grinned. “I don’t know,” he said. “Let’s find a map.”