All I Have Left (21 page)

And it did. I heard the crack of the bat, and then Shane holding his stomach where the hard and solid line drive had nailed his left hip.

“Just a little lower would have been nice,” I thought to myself, only to have Frankie actually say it, louder, at Grayson as he was running to second base.

We all chuckled and I smiled at Grayson as he stood on the base, dusting off his pants, watching me.

He gave me another wink, as if it was his little present for me.

The rest of the game was quiet as Shane and Grayson avoided each other.

When the game finished Grayson walked over to me with a huge grin on his face as he threw his mitt down by his bag, dust floating up. I had a feeling he was up to something by his sexy as hell smirk but I couldn’t be sure, he had that smirk on his face a lot today and now I was distracted by his sweaty body. Pulling his shirt over his head, he threw it to the ground beside his glove and came toward me.

I took in his stomach and chest, so tight and strong, flexing as he moved toward me.

My eyes went wide, wondering what it was he was going to do.

Ethan and Josh were nowhere to be seen, and could only assume they were about to play some kind of cruel joke on me. They always did.

Just as I looked over my shoulder Josh had the cooler full of ice and dumped it down my back.

“Thought I would help you cool down Evie,” Josh said, through his own laughter. “No one should look that good in a bikini next to Kelly!” he quickly ran back to Kelly when I tried to punch him.

Kelly, who was obliviously in on the joke—let him hide behind her, laughing with him. “Sorry, Evie.”

She wasn’t sorry.

Wiping water away, I turned to Grayson who was now on the ground shaking in laughter. I tried to kick him while he was on the ground but I slipped on the wet grass as I did so, falling on top of him.

With an annoyed sigh, I rolled off him and went to stand up but he stopped me by reaching for my wrist and pulling me back on top of him. Before I could move again, he kissed my wet neck.

“I had to,” Grayson said seductively, his voice low and sexy as he winked. “How else would I get you wet and in my arms?”

“Oh, come on,” I laughed. “That’s the best you got? You’re losing your touch.” I let my voice grow seductive, just like his. “The Grayson I knew could make women weak just by his stare. Not with cheesy pickup lines.”

“Oh I still can.”

“Prove it,” I hedged, seeing how he’d react.

“Fine. Go out with me tonight and I will.”

“It’s a date then.”

It’s easy to think I could do this. Be normal and forget what happened. I wanted to. I was determined to, even if that meant replacing bad memories with good ones. Especially if it meant that.

Grayson was my rock during all of this. Together we’d get us back to being the “us” that we’d been three years ago. And we’d start with a carefree date night, and leave our emotional scars and baggage at home…at least for tonight. Tomorrow is another day and I was hell bent on taking one day at a time with him by my side.

I knew I couldn’t just rip that emotional bandage off, but I could have the life that Grayson and I shared growing up, couldn’t I? Was that too much to ask?

What’s wrong with that?

When I got back from Iraq the doctors threw at me the term post-traumatic stress disorder. And immediately too. They said I had it, as did many war veterans returning from the hell that was war.

I’d argue with them because I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe that one event in your life could alter you to the point where you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t tolerate loud noises, or hell, even pick up a bat without shaking.

The half empty bottle of anxiety medication, muscle relaxers and pain medication wouldn’t argue that clinical term, would it?

I do believe you can distract yourself.

The first night I didn’t wake up screaming and crying since I’d returned from that hell hole…it was my first night back in Evie’s arms. The second, last night.

I had a distraction. A way to think about something other than my personal battles waging war in my own head.

Evie needed that too. She needed a way to relax and not have to be reminded of Shane.

A Tuesday night at The Point was my answer. Something I knew she would appreciate.

Walking back to my truck I noticed Shane and his buddies leaning up against his Mustang. I knew what he wanted.

I couldn’t believe the asshole kept starting shit with me. He didn’t know when to quit.

I had training he never had. I could, if I wanted, kill him with my bare hands.

And believe me when I say I was so fucking tempted. So tempted.

He stood a little straighter when he saw me, his shirt beside him on the hood of his car, a beer in hand, cigarette dangling from his lips. I know him. He thought that shit and his custom car daddy bought meant he was tough. He’s a fucking pussy and he knows it. This shit was an act. His distraction. The son of a bitch beat up women…what sort of real man lays a hand on a woman? One who can’t defend himself in a real fight.

Though I didn’t want the reaction, my body tensed anticipating a fight as I approached my truck, which was parked beside his car, probably by design.

Of course, as soon as I walked past them, he started in with his bantering.

There’s ways of finding out information, classified or not. It’s all in who you know and if you dig enough, you can get that information.

“How’s that shoulder?” Shane asked, taking a slow drag from his cigarette and then blowing the smoke in the air.

I tossed my bag in the back of my truck, giving way to an amused laugh. He obviously knew which shoulder to hit, didn’t he?

I don’t fucking care that he knows. I don’t. Let me know just how fucked up I am.

“It’s fine,” I winked at him. “How’s your hip?”

I don’t care about that either. I’m just setting him up.

I see the bruise that already formed. I also see the darkness under his eye and the cracked lip. He’s gotten a taste, but he has no idea what I’m really capable of.

Shane shook his head, his buddies watching me, and it took everything in me not to kick his ass. But if I did, here, I would be putting Evie at risk, making her vulnerable.

When my chance came, and I knew it would, Evie wouldn’t be anywhere near us.

There’s a few people that get under my skin more than anything. They’re the type of people that when you’re arguing with them and it’s done, they pop off with some smart ass remark and leave you lit all over again. Shane did that shit.

“That’s right Grayson, keep walking. Not much of a tough guy without—”

I didn’t let him finish before I turned abruptly on my heel and faced him, inches from his face. He could feel my breath on his face. “I will only tell you this one time you stupid motherfucker,” I warned stepping closer. “Stay. Away. From. Evie.” I made no attempt to back off. “You will fucking regret it if you don’t. I’m not warning you again.”

Shane just stared at me with a blank expression, searching my eyes. Maybe he was trying to see if I was serious which only pissed me off more that he doubted my intentions here.

“I’m not going to regret anything,” he said, leaning casually against his car. “But you do. You regret a lot of things. And she turned to me. Does it kill you to know that she was on my dick?”

I acted like the twenty-one-year-old kid I was. “Nah,” I smiled, “it don’t. Cause she was on mine first. And I know it kills
you
to think that.”

I struck a nerve, and I loved it. Finally an angle I had, my fast ball turned on him.

“She won’t be for much longer,
soldier boy
.”

I backed up just an inch. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to threaten a man’s family? It’s a death sentence.”

Shane laughed, low and tense. “She ain’t your family man.” He stood straighter, his chest tight. “Walk away. It’s what you’re good at, remember?”

“I can’t do that,” shaking my head, I ran the back of my hand across the right side of my jaw.

“I’m not scared of you Grayson.”

“That’s your fucking problem right there. You
should
be. I
should
be your worst
fucking
nightmare because I will be if you keep fucking with us,” I said in a no nonsense tone.

I was shaking, I wanted to hit him. I wanted him in so much fucking pain that he never healed. A torture he carried forever. A scar, a reminder, he’d bare until he died.

Josh appeared before I could do anything, “Grayson, help Ethan with the chairs.”

I turned without another word and grabbed some chairs from Ethan, who had his arms full heading to Frankie’s car.

“What was that about?” Ethan questioned, raising an eyebrow at me as he handed me a couple more chairs.

“Nothing.”

Never again was I standing by and watching someone get hurt. I wouldn’t do it. I would have my chance. I would.

Ethan caught my glare. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah. Hey, you guys going out tonight?”

“Yeah. We thought about it. Evie up for it?”

I smiled, my mood improving when I saw Evie laughing next to my sisters. “I think she needs a good distraction.”

Evie did need a distraction. She needed something where she wasn’t being forced to do something and be someone she wasn’t. She needed a night of normalcy…something I could very much provide her because normal was what I needed just as much. She was my normal, my distraction.

She didn’t need a clinical term to define who she was emotionally.

Or maybe that was me?

I wouldn’t let post-traumatic stress disorder define me. My emotional state was already better simply by being back with my Evie.

One thing I knew for sure…what my heart and head told me every day for the past three years and especially during the hell that I’d endured, all we needed was each other.

A distraction. That was his answer. He wanted a date with me. I could do that. I wanted that. What I didn’t want was being fussed with.

“I really don’t understand why you guys have to dress me up just to go to The Point.” I grimaced, thinking of how much attention I would get looking like this there. Probably about as much as I did when I wore that black dress. Attention was something I didn’t want right now.