Chaos (Havoc Series Book Two) (23 page)

“I'm not cheating on you!”

“You creep into our bed five out of seven
nights smelling like that asshole! He's had more dates with my
fucking girlfriend than I have! So do not sit there and tell me you
haven't been cheating on me Haven! I deserve the truth!”

“That is the truth!” she pops up off the bed.
“We are just friends! He's never done anything like that before. I
swear. All we've ever done is hang out as friends. And Mandy is
almost always with us. I don't know why...but yesterday he kissed
me...” Her brown eyes that are blood shot try to bore into me.
Unfortunately for them, I'm empty. “And I kissed him back.” Hearing
her admit it sucks the remaining breath from me. “I didn't intend
to. I went to push him away, Clint, I really did, but I didn't.
You're the only guy I've ever kissed and part of me was curious.
Not just about what it was like to kiss someone else, but someone
who didn't see me as this helpless girl to be rescued. Someone who
didn't see my past when they looked at me. Someone who was
attracted to the sight in front of them. Who didn't feel sorry for
me.”

The truth of the situation jabs at me as
well. She has a valid point. I can't blame her for being curious.
But I can blame her for thinking that's what I see when I look at
her. Because I don't. “The only thing I've ever seen when I looked
at you, from the moment I saw you was how beautiful you are and how
I would give my last fucking breath for you take one more.”

I back up and turn around reaching for my bag
again. The familiar sound of her tears returns and I clutch the
strap tighter. “Clint, I'm sorry...I made a mistake. People make
mistakes.”

Calming back down, numb once more, I respond,
“I know.”

She doesn't say another word and I finish
packing. Once she hears the bag zip she sniffles. “Can't we talk
about this?”

My body slowly turns to face her, bag slung
over my shoulder, “What else do you wanna say?”

I listen as she stumbles a few syllables out
but actually says nothing.

“Okay.” I nod once. “You know, Haven, I get
it. I do. All this, all this was huge for you. The change. His
death. Starting school. A life. Having a family again. And you
needed someone to be there for you, and it couldn't be me. So you
looked elsewhere. Yeah, in a way, it's my fault. If I was the kinda
guy who had a normal ass job like Michele, things would be
different. Easier. But they're not. And I'm not. And being a Marine
is what I do. It's who I am. Clearly while you're it for me, I may
not be it for you.”

“Clint--”

“And that's okay.” I shrug a shoulder,
clutching the tears deep inside. “Figure out what you want. I mean
really
want. And take your time, Haven. I've got forever for
you...”

With those words tears fall to her cheeks and
I cross over to her. Using the little strength I have inside me, I
wrap my arms around her tightly, holding her for what most likely
will be the last time. Swallowing the anguish once more. I shut my
eyes. Tight. Breathe, Grim.

My lips land in the middle of her forehead as
I slip something into her hand. Once it's there I back away and
stare into the eyes of the angel who put me back together and broke
me again. “Goodbye, Haven.”

She clutches her father’s ring in her hand
bringing it to her shaky lips. I turn and head for my bedroom door.
Her voice tries to croak, “Clint...”

For the first time I can remember, I walk
away from when she calls. With determination I take the stairs,
leave my keys on the bar for her in case she needs them, and walk
with my head held high like a Marine. A Marine with a new mission
to find and complete because my mission to try to save that girl is
over. I can save her from Old Man Banks. Playboy pricks. Bitter
ex-girlfriends. Sleazy friends. But I can't save her from
herself.

Mindy puts a glass of milk down in front of
me and sits across the table. She folds her hands in her lap. Leans
back against the chair. Taps her foot impatiently. Finally she
says, “Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” I break a chocolate chip cookie in
half.

She pushes her lips together. Before I can
even take bite of the cookie she says, “I really think we should
talk about it, Slugger.”

“Which part? The part where my girlfriend
actually
wanted
another guy to kiss or the part where he
did?”

“Slugger--”

“No. I don't wanna talk about it,” the cookie
gets shoved in my mouth and I realize I'm ten years old all over
again except this time, the angel isn't dead. She's just, gone. In
a way I think that it's worse than death. Knowing the one person
you want to spend the rest of your life with is still alive but
doesn't love you. I shove the other half in my mouth.

“Want my advice?”

Once I swallow I say, “No.”

She frowns. “Slugger--”

“No. I don't want your advice. I don't want
advice. I don't want anything but a place to crash tonight and a
ride to the airport in the morning.”

Mindy begins to glare when her phone rings
indicating any ass chewing she was about to do has to be
momentarily postponed. She pulls her cell phone to ear and hums,
“Hello.”

The expression on her face shifts and I
realize I know exactly who it is.

“Clint?” I shake my head slowly. She
hesitates. “Not tonight, Haven. Go ahead and call Mandy. Have her
come over; tell her to bring some ice cream, and chocolate. I
promise we'll talk tomorrow. Yes. Alright. Good night, Haven.” Once
she puts the phone down, she sighs at me, “Not gonna say
anything?”

I slow my chewing down. “Wrong number?”

“Clint Thomas Walker, I swear to God--”

“No, Mindy. I have nothing to say about it
now or the next time you ask me. I'm done.”

“But--”

“No buts. No ifs. No whens. No maybes.
Nothing. Just...nothing.” Hearing me say is seems to push her back
against the chair once more. “Now, can I have a place to crash and
a ride to the airport in the morning?”

She drums her nails against the table doing
her best to remain calm. At least it's finally not me trying to
remain calm. The one struggling for peace. I may not be happy. I
may not be pleased. I may not be content. But I'm numb. Emotionally
shut off. It's familiar. And welcomed.

“Why do you need a ride to the airport
tomorrow? You don't start school for another few days?”

“Moved up my flight. First one out
tomorrow.”

Her eyes close as if this situation pains
her. Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn't. Either way. I don't care.

“I can't stop you from leaving, but I don't
have to be the one to make it final. I won't take you in the
morning, but I know someone who will.”

Seeing where she's going with this I grumble,
“Mindy...”

“Don't worry, Slugger. It's not Haven.” She
rises to her feet, her name bringing some sort of emotion of out
her. Mindy rises to her feet, “I'm gonna make myself some tea,
would you care for some?”

“No, thank you. I'm gonna go ahead and get
some rest.”

I stand, which is when she turns around and
hugs me tightly. Without hesitating, I wrap my arms around her and
give her one good squeeze. She lifts up to her tip toes and plants
a kiss on my cheek. Not saying anything, she pulls away and returns
to the task of making herself something to drink.

Leaving her to her own thoughts, I relocate
myself to my room in her house. I pull my phone out of my pocket,
set an alarm, place the phone on the nightstand and fall onto the
bed on top of the covers, the only light seeping coming from the
hallway under the door. I stare up at the ceiling in the dark.
Staring up at it I wait. I wait for the memory to come flooding
back to me. The last time I was in this bed like this. The wait
continues for a minute. Then three. Five. Ten. And that's when I
grasp it. No more memories. No more flashbacks. That part is back
behind its wall. Or dead. Either way, I'm back to my old ways. Grim
has truly returned.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I wait by
the front door while Mindy fiddles around in the kitchen. Finally
she strolls over. Her hair is perfect. Make up perfect. And even
though she has her designer robe wrapped around barely exposing
whatever mystery is underneath, it’s safe to assume it's a well put
together outfit.

“It's not exactly a birthday cake, but...”
she shrugs as she pushes the cupcake to me.

I look down at the chocolate cupcake with red
and white frosting meant to look like a baseball. My face smiles
for her. She worked this hard. The least I can do is pretend like I
give a shit. Even if I really don't.

“Thanks, Mindy.”

She nods and touches her side of her face
fighting tears. There's the sound of a car pulling into her
driveway. My exit cue. “Promise you'll call?” I roll my eyes and
she slaps my arm hard. “Promise me, goddamn it!”

Baffled by her unexpected hit and her
language choice, I frantically nod. “Yes ma'am.”

“Good boy,” she folds her arms across her
chest. “Give 'em hell.”

Welcoming the change of attitude I nod. “Yes
ma'am.”

Mindy opens the door to usher me out. The
immediate bite of the cold morning air reminds me I forgot to grab
my coat. Fuck it. I'll buy a new one if I need it. My feet carry me
quickly to my father's truck where I climb in. As soon as I'm
buckled he pulls out of her driveway and heads for the airport.

Not a word is said as I watch the passing
city lights. The goodbye actually a relief. I've missed the field.
The freedom. And even if I'm not putting myself in the same amount
of danger, I am returning to something that preps me for my next
deal with death.

“Wanna talk about it?”

I turn my attention towards him. “About
what?”

“You. Haven. The incident.”

“No.”

He raises his eyebrows as he switches lanes.
“You sure? I mean--”

“I'm fine.”

“Not this again--”

“No. Not this again. I'll admit. I wasn't
fine before. But I am now.”

His eyes fine mine and he nods that he
understands. Good. Because this conversation was over before it
started.

I look back out the window. My feet move
against the duffel bag.

“You ready for this?”

“School?”

“The career change.”

“You're assuming I'm going to pass.”

“I
know
you're going to pass, Clint.
Just curious if you're prepared for what happens after.”

“Explain.”

Doing his best to fight the obvious annoyance
by my tone he says, “After school comes the hard part. Do you take
more training? Do you wait to go back to your unit? And that's
assuming they aren't sending you to school with the intent for you
on something in particular when you're done. I know the military,
Clint. Every move like this has a purpose.”

Those words revolve around in my mind. What
could they have in mind for me? Am I headed for a mission right
after? Are they grooming for me something I have no idea about? Do
I even care? As all they help me court death again does it
matter?

Finally I respond, “I'll keep that in
mind.”

We pull into the airport drop off area and a
bit of relief fills me. He parks and before I can get out he places
an arm out to stop me. I slam backwards into the seat. Without
saying anything I impatiently wait for whatever it is he's so
desperate to say.

When I turn to look at him, he moves his arm
and uses his other hand to hand me a package. “Happy Birthday,
Son.”

“You know how much I hate my birthday.”

“I do. But this was the most important day in
your mother and mine's life, so you're going to swallow your pride
and take the gift. If not for my sake, at least hers.”

I take the gift and push back my own
displeasure. Ripping the paper off I'm revealed a brown journal
with a sunflower in the corner. Really? I don't even use fucking
journals. Before Haven I barely had enough emotions to register as
human. Post Haven is only going to be worse.

Seeing the puzzled look he says, “It was your
mothers.” I blink long and hard at it. I don't move an inch. “It
was...one of the only things that didn't make it to the giveaway
boxes. It was the last one she kept. She used to keep it between
the mattress and headboard. When I found it, I couldn't even read
an entry. I just put it back.” Somehow I drag my head up and over
to look at him. “You asked me...what was she like?” Dad points to
the journal “Get to know her yourself.”

My hand is now gripping the journal tighter
than before. It's clear to me that he doesn't want me going back to
the old me. I don't blame him. This is the first time in eleven
years he's had a real son. And that I've had a real dad. That we've
had anything more than a shell of a memory between us. I know I owe
him that much. To not shut him out again. To not shut out Mindy
again. To let Slugger keep breathing. Fine. Slugger can live here
for Dad and Mindy. Grim on the field. But that's it. I draw the
line there.

“Thanks, Dad,” I tuck the journal into my
bag.

He unlocks the door. “You'll remember to
call?”

“Yes sir.”

For the first time I can recall, he leans
over and gives me a hug. A long one. A hard one. And I let him. I
hug back. I give that reassurance that even though Clint is long
gone, I won't bury Slugger back in the ground just yet.

Pulling away he clears his throat. An obvious
nervous trait. I should know. I inherit it. “Be a damn a good
Marine. Understand?”

With a small solute, I state firmly, “Yes
sir.”

I climb out of the truck and head towards the
building more than ready to get the fuck out of this city. This
state. This warped reality that I lived in. I'm desperate to get
back to work. Ready to be pushed to each of the physical limits
school promises to deliver. I need this. Even if I couldn't save
her, it doesn't mean I can't save me. Someone needs to. And if it
isn't me, who the hell else would it be?