Fighting Redemption (27 page)

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Authors: Kate McCarthy

BOOK: Fighting Redemption
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Ryan put a hand on Kyle’s arm. “I’ll take the shot, Brooks.”

Shifting around the table, he rapidly sank their last two balls, followed it with the black, and won the round in five minutes.

“Fuck,” Davis moaned. “Who suggested we play you two bastards?”

Kyle rubbed his thumb over his fingers with a grin. “Pay up, losers.”

They both slid notes across the table. “Let’s play again. Double or nothing.”

Davis growled at Nathan. “Are you stupid?”

“That’s likely,” he replied with a laugh.

Ryan nodded. The pool and the alcohol were busy making everything numb, and he needed that right now. “We’ll give you a head start by letting you break,” Ryan told them. “You’ll need it.”

Kyle and Ryan returned to their tall bar table by the wall as Nathan and Davis set up the next round of play.

“Four years is a long time, but like I said before, nothing worthwhile is ever easy.”

“Nothing’s ever been easy for Fin and I,” he replied, his chest burning at the admission. “I guess some things aren’t meant to be. I mean, how the fuck long is this war going to drag on for? It could be years before the Government decides to pull our troops out. That would mean what—I’d see Fin a total of eight weeks over the next four years with her living in Sydney?” He ground his jaw as he tried not to think about it. “I won’t have her putting her life on hold because I can’t be there with her and …”

Kyle downed the last of his beer and set the empty bottle on the table. “And what?”

“And I can’t ask her to stay.”

“No you can’t,” Kyle agreed, “but—”

“You’re up, Brooks,” Davis called out after breaking and dropping two balls.

Glaring at the interruption, Kyle picked up the pool cue and twisted it in his hands. “Does she want to stay?”

Ryan nodded once, the movement abrupt.

“Well then.”

“She has to go.”

Disbelief made Kyle’s eyes wide. “You can’t make the decision for her.”

“I can.” Ryan folded his arms. “This is everything she’s ever worked for. If you think I’m going to let her throw that away on me, then you’ve got more than one screw loose.”

“No talk of screwing while I’m stuck in this bar with you and those two meatheads,” he said, waving a hand over at Nathan and Davis. He took a step towards the pool table and looked at Ryan over his shoulder. “So what now?”

“Now I’m back on base for the next two weeks and after that…” Ryan swallowed down the ache in his throat “…she’ll be gone.”

 

 

 

Fin woke to sunlight streaming through her room and an empty bed. She jolted upright as the events of last night flooded through her. Turning on her side, she grabbed for her phone off the bedside table. She dialled Ryan’s number but when it went straight to message, anxiety clouded every other emotion.
He was avoiding her?

She sank into bed, rubbing gently at the tender bump on the back of her head. The fall had scared her. Fin had no clue how long she’d been out for, but when she came to, Ryan hadn’t returned. Feeling like her head was splitting open, she barely managed to tidy up the broken glass and drag herself to bed.

Picking up her phone again, she flicked through her contacts and dialled.

“Dr. Jensen’s office, Trudy speaking.”

“Trudy, it’s Fin.”

“Fin, honey!” Fin could hear the wide smile in Trudy’s voice. She’d worked reception for Fin’s family doctor for as long as she could remember. “How you doin’, girl?”

“Oh, you know.” Fin waved her hand airily before she slumped into the soft covers.

“No, I don’t know, honey, so tell me.”

“Just busy working.”

“How’s that hot man of yours?”

“You know about Ryan?”

“Of course I do. I ran into Julie down at the supermarket last week and she may have mentioned something in passing.”

Fin shook her head, knowing that Trudy would have drilled her mother for every last detail and her mother would have happily complied. “Well, anyway, I need to make an appointment.”

“Sure thing.” Fin heard tapping at the computer before Trudy spoke again. “She’s not free for another three days. How does Thursday morning suit?”

Fin sighed, rubbing at her brow. She’d have to shuffle things around at work and she had a report due. “That’s fine.”

Trudy rattled off the exact date and time, and after committing it to memory, Fin hung up the phone and tossed it carelessly across the bed.

She lifted up onto her elbow and peeked out the blinds of the front window. His car was still gone.
Did Ryan go back to base?

Sitting up, a wave of nausea rocked her and she leaned over, moaning.
Shit.
She grabbed at her phone again with a sigh and rang in at work to let them know she wouldn’t be in. Now what? Was she supposed to sit idly around in bed and wait for Ryan to call? Thumbing through her contacts, she dialled again.

“Fin,” came the breathless reply.

“What are you doing?” she asked Rachael.

“Fuck, shit, dammit,” Rachael replied, exasperation making her voice sharp.

“What?”

“I’ve just ripped a hole in my spare pair of stockings, and when I ironed my skirt this morning, it left a long brown stain down the back. I think I need a new iron. And a new skirt,” she added.

“Okay.”

“So what are you doing ringing me on a Monday morning. Been at the office for hours already and finished for the day?”

“No, I’m not working today.”

“Day off?” Fin heard stomping. “Dammit. I’m out of milk. Why did I get out of bed this morning? Remind me.”

“Because you have an obscene love of foreign tax that does wild things to your girly bits?”

Rachael snorted. “Yeah, sure.”

“Actually, I don’t feel so good. Taking a sick day today.”

Fin could almost hear Rachael’s jaw dropping open as the sound of a fridge door slamming shut came through the line. “But … you never take a sick day. Remember that time when you spent the morning vomiting in your recycling bin and they forced me to come collect you? That was gross. Don’t do that again.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

“So what’s wrong?”

“I just feel sick. I don’t know.”

“Well tell Ryan to make you a nice cup of umm … what tea is good for when you feel sick?”

“He’s not here.”

“Training exercise again? Christ, they do a lot of those.”

“No,” she mumbled. “We had a fight last night and he left.”

“What do you mean
he left
? Is he coming back?”

“I’m not sure.” Fin tried to be pissed off, but it wasn’t happening. She just felt tired. “Go to work, Rachael. I’ll talk to you a bit later, okay?”

“Ring me later,” she demanded.

Fin hung up the phone with another sigh and dragged herself out of bed to feed Crookshanks.

 

 

Ryan groaned as the alarm beside the bed screamed wildly. He was going to smash the bloody thing and bury it in the backyard behind Fin’s veggie patch. Only half awake, he rolled over and planted his fist in it hard. The shrieking increased, bringing him fully awake. He took in the small room at the barracks and remembered why he was here and not in bed with Fin, running his hands over her smooth, bare skin, letting the warmth of it seep into his bones and take the chill of his nightmares away.

Yesterday morning seemed like a lifetime ago.

 

“What’s the time?”
Fin whispered, her voice husky as her eyes fluttered open, the bright green glimmering in the morning light.

Ryan grinned sleepily.
“Mr. Wolf.”

She chuckled softly and his heart tugged at the sound.

He reached out and ran the tip of his finger slowly down her nose, his eyes following the gentle touch before he met her eyes.
“It’s not quite dinnertime, but I can still have you for breakfast.”

Ryan rolled her over, pinning her arms to the bed, loving how she squirmed beneath him.

 

Getting to his feet, he ripped the cord from the socket and threw the clock across the room with a growl. Fists clenched and chest heaving, he watched it smash apart against the wall.

“Hey!” someone shouted and pounded back on the other side of the wall.

“Fuck,” he moaned and rubbed a hand over his eyes as a brisk knock came at his door.

“Enter.”

The door swung open and Monty appeared, his eyes taking in the shattered clock without a flicker of emotion. “Brooks said you were here.”

Ryan rolled his shoulders, wincing at all the knots that lived there. “He been flapping his mouth off?”

Monty’s brows drew together as he folded his arms. “You know he wouldn’t do that.”

“Shit,” Ryan muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “I need some clothes.”

“I’ll have some sent in, so get yourself organised. It’s Monday morning PT then we’re off to the rifle range.”

Monty disappeared and Ryan searched the room for his phone, having no idea when he last saw it. He was on his hands and knees, peering under the bed when he heard a thump from above. He looked up and saw Kyle dumping a set of clothes on his bed.

He smirked at Ryan. “You can look all you like, but you’ll never find your balls under there.”

“Har har.” Ryan got to his feet. “Have you seen my phone? I can’t find the fucker.”

“Nope.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “I need to ring Fin.”

“What for? You need to remind her you’re a stubborn asshole in case she forgot?”

Ryan scratched at the back of his pounding head. “No, I need to tell her where …”

“Where you are?” Kyle’s hands fisted by his sides. “Sonofabitch. I could fucking punch you right now.”

“You don’t get it.”

Just hearing her voice would set off that uncontrollable urge to ask her not to leave. If Ryan let that slip out, he would never forgive himself.

“I don’t need to get it. Fin does.” Kyle tugged his phone out of his pocket and slapped it hard into Ryan’s palm. “Here. And hurry the fuck up. We’re leaving in five and I want to start off hard. I’ve got money on today’s session, so I need to show those lazy cunts I mean business. I’ll wait outside.”

Christ.
How was he supposed to say everything in five minutes? Ryan sank onto the bed and held his head in his hand as he dialled her number. He put the phone to his ear and waited but it went to message. He cleared his throat.

“Ba—Fin. I’m sorry. I’m on Kyle’s phone because I can’t find mine. I’m … I stayed on base last night. I just … I can’t …” Ryan closed his eyes, feeling like a pathetic asshole. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

After hanging up the phone, he got dressed for their eight kilometre soft-sand run and headed out into the bright light of the morning.

“Did you ring Fin?” Kyle puffed softly as they jogged slowly towards the range sentry gate.

“Yeah,” he muttered. Today was the first day of the rest of his life without her. He was off to a shitty start because he already ached to hear her voice and feel her warm body rubbing against his own. The feeling was almost desperate and downright unbearable, like he wanted to claw his way out of his own skin.

“And?”

Frustrated, Ryan clenched his jaw. He was hoping the jog would help him switch his mind off, and Kyle was making damn sure that wasn’t happening. “And I left a message because she didn’t answer.” A dumbass message that made him sound like an idiot rather than assertive and cool so she would understand where he stood.

Where do you stand, idiot?

Ryan swiped a hand across his face.
All he knew was that Fin was willing to throw her dreams away to be with him and he couldn’t do the same. How could he expect of her what he couldn’t of himself? He owed Jake to see this through, and there was no seeing past that.

They reached the gate and started stretching, the fifteen odd soldiers quiet as they focused on the strenuous and challenging run ahead.

Later that afternoon, the loud clamour of magazines, sliding bolts, and the loud shout of Monty yelling to commence fire wiped everything else from his mind. Fixated on his target, sweat rolled down Ryan’s back and chest in the heat as he squeezed the trigger. The mass sound of rifles firing cracked along the range like a fast approaching thunderstorm as he carefully adjusted his sights and shot round after round, finding his target again and again. Adrenaline pumped through his body and satisfaction curled his lips at the familiarity of holding a rifle in his hands—the smell of gunfire, like charred wood, clung to his clothes, creating a soothing balm on his raw and aching heart.

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