Staking Her Claim...: Book 1 in the Patricks' Brothers series (17 page)

I want to smile at that. I want to hug him and tell him I’m proud of him. But that’s not who we are anymore. I wouldn’t have hesitated in the past, but now, it’s not my place to give him encouragement or praise. So, with no other recourse, I murmur,

“Good. That’s great, Rob. Sometimes all of us need someone to talk to who won’t judge us to help us make sense of things.”

“We might not be friends right now, Aly, but I’d really like it if you’d hear me out,” he says scratching at the stubble on his jaw absently. “Please,” he adds sincerely. Damn him, I muse. I’ve never been able to resist him when he says please.

I have a choice here. Not a great one and both options have the same outcome, but a choice nonetheless. I can either hear him out, absolve him from whatever lingering guilt he has, hopefully giving him the closure he needs to move on; or I can refuse him and risk that R
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ob won’t give up until he gets what he wants. Because that’s it in a nutshell; Rob is aggravatingly persistent, determined, and employs a ‘never give up attitude’ when he makes up his mind about something. The question is; how much suffering do I want to put myself through before I accept the inevitability that this conversation is going to happen whether I like it or not.

Rob’s willingness to open up and discuss his past couldn’t have come at a worse time. Aside from the fact I’m on a case at the moment, a case which involves my best friend, my life is already complicated enough without adding this on top of it. Harper and I still need to have a serious chat about her keeping things from me – like her dating Mr. Tall, Dark, and Rich. We need to talk about what the hell is going on between her and Brookes too. But that takes a backseat to me making sure she isn’t danger because of whatever sicko has focused on her and her ex.

Second on my list of issues to tackle when I get back to the office is my brothers inability to treat me as an equal. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I prove I’m capable of taking care of myself, they can’t separate me being their sister, who they vowed to always protect, from the strong independent woman I’ve become. That doesn’t alter the facts, however. That shit has to stop. Because if something doesn’t change, and soon, I’ve decided I won’t be able to continue to work with them.

My considering leaving, EyeSee is only a very recent development. In fact, I haven’t even had the chance to consider what it will mean for me if I did decide to follow through with it. I’m not worried about finding another job, that will be the least of my problems. After I was honorably discharged from the Army for medical reasons, I was approached by almost all of the alphabet agencies with varying offers of employment. At the time, I wasn’t interested in going back to work for the United States government, I had just survived a career ending injury, lost most of my team, and was holding onto my sanity by a thread. The last thing I needed was to be jumping into the shark infested waters of the CIA, FBI, of the Secret Service before I sorted my head out. Now, though? I have to say, those offers are looking more and more appealing by the day.

That wasn’t the extent of the fuckedupedness of my life, however. No, not even close. We’ve covered Harper, my brothers, and my job, but I haven’t mentioned the phone call I made to Jonas yet.

Before I get into that, though, there’s the small matter of my readiness to deal with the man standing across the kitchen from me.
i

“If I promise to hear you out, let you get whatever it is you feel you have to off your chest, I need you understand that this will be the first and last time we’ll talk about this,” I state stiffly.

That probably comes across as harsh, but I don’t care. I got off the emotional rollercoaster that is, Rob years ago, and I have no intentions of taking that ride again. His choice to make himself emotionally unavailable and physically absent from my life when we were teenagers closed that door.

If he had wanted it to remain open a crack, then he should have been more willing to compromise. I wouldn’t have asked him to divulge all of his deepest, darkest secrets, not even half of them. I just wanted him to prove he trusted me as much as I trusted him. Choosing instead to remove himself from my life altogether, effectively sealed his fate. Mine too.

We would never get back what we had. We would never have a chance at a future. All we have between us now is the bitterness of the past hanging over our head like the proverbial hangman’s ax. And by giving him this opportunity, I’m potentially wielding the weapon that could carve me in two. Because as much as I’d like to claim his suffering doesn’t affect me in the slightest, I know that as soon as he opens this door and allows his demons to come out into the light, it will eviscerate me.

i
I need to interrupt your regular programming to lay some groundwork which will hopefully help you to understand why my tête-à-tête with Rob turned out entirely differently than I anticipated it would. Don’t worry, it won’t take long, and trust me, you need to hear this.

I’ve loved two men in my lifetime, and no, Peter isn’t one of them. You already know about, Rob, and I’ve mentioned Jonas, but I haven’t fully explained my relationship with him or that came about. So, here goes…

Jonas Philips came into my life at a time I was struggling with a set of responsibilities I hadn’t expected. As a newly promoted Unit Commander, overseeing a team of testosterone laden, alpha males who have never had the privilege of answering to a woman before, much less one, five years their junior, I was out of my depth and lost as to what I should do to fix it.

I had been on scheduled leave for ten days when I walked into, ‘Guns and Needles’, a well-known tattoo shop located one street away from the legendary, Santa Monica Pier.

I hadn’t planned on getting a tattoo that day, I was just wandering around looking for the local Starbucks when I passed the shop. The store, Guns and Needles occupied was simply put; amazing. It was obvious it had been recently renovated, but that wasn’t what drew me to it like a moth to a flame.

Waist to ceiling glass windows with a thick, black border painted around the edges took up the majority of the shops’ frontage. Gold leaf must have been added to the paint before it was applied because flecks of shimmering gold glittered wildly as the sunlight dipped low enough to catch them.

Their logo was etched meticulously into the glass, and I knew on seeing it that it would have taken hours to complete the job. Behind the stylized calligraphy text, proclaiming the shops’ name, was a shield, inlaid with an image of a tattoo gun. Two piercing needles had been added crossed beneath it, making it look like an abstract version of a military insignia.

At the time, I can remember thinking; it was so intricately detailed I could only hope that whoever created the masterpiece worked there. My feet started moving, and before I could stop them, I was opening the door and walking inside.

Assailed with the potent smell of antiseptic, the sound of tattoo guns buzzing, and Pantera’s, Cowboys From Hell, at full blast was strangely soothing. The woman who stood behind the front desk nodded at me in greeting, saying nothing, allowing me to continue my perusal of the shop uninterrupted.

It wasn’t until a man, I can only describe as a living, breathing mountain approached me that I realized I had been staring off into space for too long. I hadn’t meant to, I had just been so lost in my own head that my surroundings had faded out, my thoughts taking over.

Placing a huge, calloused hand on my shoulder snapped me out of my musings, as the man it was attached to asked,

“You okay there, Sugar?”

His voice was deep, rough, and delicious. He had the voice of a pack a day smoker. Not in a bad way, though. It wasn’t abrasive like some I’d heard. It was comforting, which struck me as an odd thing for me to think about a stranger. But that’s how I felt; comforted. Nodding absently, I hadn’t taken in the man stand before me, but as he let loose a husky chuckle, I let my eyes eat up the handsome man casually leaning against the wall covered in the flash art to my left.

I started at his feet, noting they were huge just like the rest of him. At six-foot-five, at least, he wasn’t the tallest man I’d met, Brookes held that honor, but he was a damn sight taller than my five-foot-one.

His legs were thick trunks filling out his well-worn jeans, and his waist was narrow. I could see the hint of a belt buckle peeking out from under his tight white T-shirt, but that wasn’t what captured, and kept, my attention. No, the obvious bulge of his erection was far more interesting than a silver belt buckle.

Not wanting to appear creepier than I already had, I continued my visual feast of him by moving on to his heavily muscled arms. Covered in colorful tattoos, his arms were strong, his forearms tanned beneath the images of skulls, dragons, serpents, and script. Biceps I wouldn’t be able to circle with my hands swelled the limits of his shirt, and as I looked north, I could see that his neck sported the same ink as he wore on his arms.

But it was his face that told the story of this man’s life. His deep green eyes were rimmed with thick, black lashes, offset with heavy, dark eyebrows I could only assume would match his hair if he had any. Strong jaw, shaved clean, high cheekbones, and a full, lush mouth made him the epitome of sex on a stick.

“You here to get a tattoo, Sugar? Because I’ve gotta say while I’m flattered you’re checking me out, I’ve got work to do if you’re not,” he says grinning.

Smiling at his cocky attitude, I wink before asking,

“Do you have time, or should I make an appointment and come back another day?”

“I’ve always got time for a beautiful woman like yourself, Sugar. Now, why don’t you follow me back to my station so I can see what we’re working with.”

Three and a half hours later, I was inked, my ribs hurt from laughing harder than I had in years, and I had a date with one very sexy tattooist the next night. What was supposed to be an afternoon walk to sort through the jumble of thoughts ricocheting around inside my head turned into so much more. It led me to a man, who for all intents and purposes, would become one of my best friends, sometimes lover, and the only man other than Rob I would fall in love with.

Jonas, like me, was in the Army. He inked while he was on leave or not deployed because it was his passion. Jonas didn’t need the extra money it brought him, he told me he lived cheaply and had no need for materialistic things. Most of what he earned, he said, was sent home to his Mom, who was opening a diner in their hometown of, Furnace, Colorado. That was something that endeared him to me even more. A man who looks after his Mom is seriously sexy.

After a particularly energetic, marathon session of sex, Jonas and I hadn’t seen each other for over three months so this was to be expected, he started a discussion that would change the course of our relationship of convenience.

Jonas had made no secret of the fact that he eventually wanted to settle down with a house, a wife, and kids. He didn’t care what order that came in, he just wanted it to happen. And soon.

I hadn’t given the prospect much thought. Honestly, I was happy with what we had and wasn’t all fired up to change that any time in the foreseeable future. I was only twenty-four after all. But I knew Jonas was getting antsy. He had turned thirty a week or so ago, and believed his biological clock had kicked in at the same time.

Don’t doubt for a minute that what I felt for Jonas wasn’t love, because it most assuredly was. The thing was; it wasn’t the all-consuming, butterflies in your belly, the fierce love I had felt for Rob. That was why I found myself at an impasse, a crossroads so to speak.

Jonas openly admitted he felt that way about me. Over and over he told me that he missed me to the point of distraction when he was gone, that he couldn’t wait until he could have me in his arms again where I belonged. Jonas had even started telling me he loved me about six months ago, words I couldn’t return at the time.

It took me weeks to give him the words he’d been so desperately and patiently waiting to hear, but even then they felt like a lie. I did love him, just not the way he wanted me to. I couldn’t. I had given my heart to another man long before meeting Jonas and he hadn’t thought to give it back when he tore it out and so carelessly threw it aside. I couldn’t force myself to feel for Jonas what he needed to make his dreams of home and family come true, and it was at that moment that I had an epiphany of sorts.

I had always been curious as to why Rob had pushed me away. I knew he had feelings for me, that much was clear, however, either because of them or in spite of them he cast me off with what appeared to be surprising ease.

Now, though, I questioned whether he did it for some of the same reasons I was about to break Jonas’s heart. Knowing what point Jonas was at in his life, what he wanted for himself, and where he saw himself in a year or two, I had to be honest with him. Even when I knew it would destroy him.

Curled into his side, Jonas was stroking down the length of my back occasionally rubbing the ends of my hair with his fingers.

“We should get a place together, Babe. A home-base for when we’re both stateside,” he mumbled. “You’re either wasting time having to come to me or I’m heading your direction which means more time on the road for me than inside you. And I’ve gotta tell you, that shit sucks, Babe. It sucks the big one.”

Hearing him mention the possibility of us living together so nonchalantly like it was the next obvious step in our relationship shocked me. Not because I didn’t think he’d eventually want more than I was giving him now, I just hadn’t expected it so soon.

Pulling my head from his chest, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, I gasped at the seriousness they held. Jonas wasn’t kidding. He wanted that to happen. He wanted that with me. Not knowing how to respond, I replied,

“Ah, don’t you think that’s a bit soon?”

“Soon?” He questioned laughingly. “No, Babe, I don’t. We’ve been together two years, and while we haven’t spent a lot of that time in the same place, we’ve been exclusive. You’re the only woman I’m fucking, and I know I’m the only man that’s been inside your beautiful pussy since the day we met. To me that’s pretty serious without the additional fact that I love you. That I love spending time with you kicking back with a few beers, pizza, and talking as much as I love fucking you six ways from Sunday. We click, Aly. We work, so why wouldn’t I want to take the next step with the woman I love?”

This was it. I could feel it in my bones, deep in the pit of my gut that I had to come clean and tell him we would never last. We would never be where he pictured us; married, living in a home we chose together raising a tribe of children with his piercing eyes and my dark hair. As beautiful and touching as his words were, talk of fucking aside, I just couldn’t see it.

What we had at the moment was great. We met up. We fucked. We hung out. We said goodbye. We didn’t write letters to each other or call when we were apart. We didn’t meet each other’s family or friends. We were just us. Jonas and Alysia. Lovers when it was geographically convenient, and friends when we weren’t. The fact that I was happy with that arrangement and had almost broken out in a cold sweat when he mentioned living together proved one crucial thing to me; I had to let him go.

I had to let Jonas go so he could meet someone who would love him the way he deserved to be loved; with their whole heart. Mind, body, and soul. I needed to hurt him to help him. He wouldn’t see it as such now. No, that would take time and space. But I hoped that when he’d had enough of it, he would see it for what it was. That I was setting him free to find his one.

“Oh, Jonas,” I whisper. “Jonas, no. That’s not what I want. It’s not what we agreed to when we started this.”

“Yeah, well shit’s a bit different now don’t you think, Babe? You love me and you know I love you, so I’d say our agreement is null and void if you ask me,” he replies curtly.

Needing to put some distance between us to have this conversation, I shuffle up the bed until I’m seated with my back to his padded headboard.

“No, I don’t think anything is different. Nothing’s changed for me, Jonas. Yes, I love you, you make it hard for a woman not too, but that doesn’t mean I want more. I’m happy the way we are. As you said yourself, it works, so why change something that isn’t broken?”

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Jonas sits facing the wall with his back to me, his bulky frame vibrating with irritation.

“You know what, Aly? I should’ve known you’d pull this shit on me. It took you fucking weeks to tell me you loved me back, and when you eventually could say the words, it was pretty damn obvious they didn’t mean the same to you as they did me. I just didn’t want to believe it then. I didn’t want to face up to the fact you were using me as a place to crash when you didn’t want to go home to your family and all the shit that came with that, or as a dick to land on when you needed your pussy filled. But that’s what I was, wasn’t I? A bed and a sex toy.”

“Fuck you, Jonas. That’s not fair and you know it,” I exclaim moving from the bed gathering my clothes. I understand why he would think that, but it isn’t remotely true.