Military Romance Navy SEAL: Dangerous Affliction (Alpha Male Bad Boy Urban Romance) (3 page)

She sat there, kicking her dangling legs and smiling at me. It seemed strange that she wasn't entirely upset about what had happened to her in the alleyway. A little upset by the situation, I drank a good portion of the beer at once and looked up at her.

“So does your husband treat you like that all the time?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ella frowned.

“He's my fiancé, and no, he doesn't,” she replied. “He only does it when he's sick.”

I raised an eyebrow as I shoved the rest of the grilled cheese into my mouth.

“Sick?”

She sighed.

“You know...
dope sick,
” she whispered.

I chuckled.

“I'm not a cop. You don't need to whisper that. And that's not an excuse. I'm a drunk and I'd never hit a woman,” I murmured. “You think he'll ever get help?”

She glared at me. Apparently, I had hit a nerve.

“Will
you
ever get help?” she snapped. “You're no better. You think I'd be living in this dump if I had a choice? He spends all our money.”

“Let me guess. You let him stay here,” I said, shaking my head and taking another sip of beer. “I know a lot of dope fiends that beat their girls and they don't get better. They're the kind of dope fiends that are beyond help. Before you know it, he's gonna be trying to get you to sell it for him.”

She averted her gaze and my face flushed.

“He's already tried,” she muttered, a tear falling down her face. “I mean, I didn't do it, but he asked me before. Beat me when I didn't do it. God, I'm an idiot!”

She began to sob and I got up to pull her into a hug. She buried her face in my chest and I cooed at her. My heart ached for her. She was far too beautiful to be asked to do such things. I was an addict, but there was no way in hell I'd ever ask a woman to do anything like that to feed my addiction. The very thought made my stomach churn.

Then, I did something I thought I would immediately regret. I pressed my lips to hers. It was a wet, messy, imperfect kiss but when she took me by surprise and kissed me back, it felt like magic. Not even alcohol could make me feel like that.

She slipped her tongue into my mouth and my eyes widened. I did not expect her to reciprocate at all, let alone take control, yet there we were. She was still crying, but she wouldn't stop kissing me. Her hand traveled down my torso and my breathing hitched. Suddenly, her fingertips were at my waist. She slipped them inside the towel and pulled the knot that I had made. I gasped as she exposed me and lightly ran her fingertips against my manhood. I tried to protest against her lips, not sure if she was in the proper emotional state to be doing what we were doing, but she wouldn't even let me talk. Instead, she bit my lip and kissed her way down my body. I was trembling, but not for the usual reason.

I felt her mouth wrap around my manhood and I groaned. She moved her tongue against me for a moment before pulling off her skirt and jumping onto the counter-top. I stared at her, confused.

“Please,” she whispered. “I need to feel you.”

Slowly, I nodded. Seizing her by the waist, I pressed my lips against hers and pushed my way inside of her. She let out a moan and I grunted. Our bodies moved together, my hips rotating against hers. I ran my hands up her shirt and under her bra, touching her perky breasts. She moaned and I thrust harder, softly kissing her lips. I felt her shiver.

“Oh Roman,” she gasped. Her eyes bulged and she added, much louder, “Right there!”

I kissed her lips and continued thrusting her as hard as I could. I felt her womanhood tighten around me and my breathing hitched. It had been a very long time since I made love, so I climaxed without warning. However, judging by her breathing and the euphoric smile on her face, she had done the same. I pulled out of her and kissed her lips once more, looking into her deep, green eyes. I ran my hand through her thick blonde hair and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. However, she pulled away and shook her head. She jumped off the counter and pulled on her skirt as I watched her, confusedly.

“What's wrong?” I asked, frowning.

She shook her head and hurriedly went into another room. I followed her.

“Hey, you can't just—”

She pulled my clothes out of the dryer and threw them at me, cutting me off as she murmured something under her breath.

“What the hell is going on? You just sleep with me and then—”

Shaking her head, she pushed me out of the laundry room and towards the front door. I was reluctant. I didn't understand what was wrong.

“You have to go!” she shouted, pushing me into the hallway. “This was a mistake. Go on! Get out of here!”

“But—”

She shut the door in my face.

Chapter 5 – Rehabilitation

I waited outside the mission for a whole week. Every day, I pulled one of the nuns aside and asked if they knew where she was. Every day, I got the same exasperated answer. She had been missing her shifts the entire time. It was starting to worry me.

The anxiety that I was starting to get from concerning myself with her affairs was overwhelming. Every night, I dreamed about the things I had worked so hard to push out of my head. It was exhausting, but I couldn't stop worrying about her. I didn't want that man to go back and hurt her again.

In an effort to get rid of all my stress, I had been drinking a little heavier than usual. I'm probably lying to myself when I say it was just a little heavier. In fact, it was the most I had been drinking in my entire life. I was ashamed, but I still tossed my head back and let that liquid hatred go down my throat. I drank so much that I forgot how much I drank.

I woke up to a kick in the shin. Groggily, I opened my eyes and tried to ignore my pounding headache. Christmas was towering over me. A crack addict I knew only as Pipe stood beside him and they both had equally concerned looks on their faces. There was a pool of vomit on my lap. I was a mess and I knew it. The only woman that ever could've changed me wanted nothing to do with me, and as far as I knew, she could've been in the hospital or dead.

“Yo Rome,” Christmas said, adjusting his beanie. “You a'ight?”

I rubbed my temples and nodded. Christmas looked around in a paranoid manner.

“The cops are lookin' for ya, man,” he said in a low voice. “Apparently you beat the hell outta some guy?”

I sighed. Of course they were pressing charges. The only way they knew my name was if Ella said something. I wanted to be mad at her, but I couldn't be. For all I knew, he could have beat it out of her. The very thought infuriated me.

“Yeah, he was beating his girl. I just kinda couldn't stop,” I admitted.

Christmas gulped and nodded. Then, I heard the sirens.

He had sold me out.

I was lucky that the judge just sent me to rehab. A few cops took my side, saying that they had taken him in for domestic abuse more than once and that he was a well-known heroin addict. I had hoped to see Ella in court, but she wasn't there. I wondered if she just didn't want to see me or if he controlled her even more than I thought.

After court, they sent me straight to rehab. They had a car waiting for me and everything. I had the shakes and I wanted a snort and a cigarette, but I wasn't allowed. Instead, they gave me some melatonin and I fell asleep. When I woke up, I felt like I was about to have a seizure. That was what the first three days were like, really, but it got better.

The therapists at the rehabilitation center talked to me a lot about some of the problems I had and I realized that alcohol wasn't going to fix those things. I was facing my demons, but I still couldn't get Ella out of my damn head. For whatever reason, I never brought her up to my therapist. I think it might have been because they were teaching me to cope with my issues and as I coped with them, they stopped mattering. I didn't want Ella to stop mattering. I wanted the memory of her at least. She gave me something to fight for, even if I never could have her.

I finished rehab successfully, which was more than I thought I could ever do. Sobriety felt amazing and I was lucky enough to get a sponsor to put me in a halfway house back in the south side of Boston. They even got me a job at the factory. My therapist didn't think it was a good idea for me to return, but I had one chance to be happy. I went to rehab. I got better. There was one thing that would keep me sober and that thing was right back where I came from.

Rocking back and forth on my heels, I stood in front of the mission, a cigarette hanging from the corner of my mouth. The nuns all greeted me, but none of them really seemed to remember me. I didn't bother to tell them who I was. In my eyes, I was a new person. I was reborn. Everything that I was forced to do during war wasn't my fault and I understood that.

I didn't expect to see her, honestly. The last time that I waited, she never came. Hell, she might have finally gotten fired or quit since she was missing so many shifts. I was tempted to walk away, but I didn't. Something told me not to walk away, and whatever that thing was, I'll be forever grateful, because there she was. She had a cigarette in her mouth, just like me, but she didn't look nearly as tired. She was preoccupied, fishing through her purse for something. I noticed that her cigarette wasn't lit, so I reached in my pocket and walked towards her, casually.

“Need a light?”

She looked up at me with those sparkling green eyes of hers and I melted. I always thought that kind of thing only happened in movies. She looked surprised to see me, but she nodded and accepted my offer. She took a drag and we stood next to each other, awkwardly until she finally broke the silence.

“So where have you been?” she asked, smoke billowing out of her mouth.

I blew smoke out of the corner of my mouth and replied, “Rehab. I got help.”

She raised her eyebrows and nodded.

“Wow, that's impressive,” she said. “Are you staying anywhere?”

I nodded.

“Yeah, I've been at a halfway house. You still, uh, livin' with your fiancé?” I asked.

She cleared her throat and shook her head. I bit my lip, trying not to smile. That was really the answer that I wanted to hear.

“No, I'm still in the same apartment. I'm trying to move. He, uh, he went to prison,” she said. She took another drag from her cigarette and added, “He hurt me pretty bad and I just had enough, y'know. I was gonna die or somethin'. I wasn't going to work. I wasn't cleaning the house because I was hurt all the time. He just got a lot worse. I should've listened to you. So, you know, I'm sorry I was kind of a...you know.”

I shook my head and stamped my cigarette butt out on the ground.

“Nah, don't worry about it. I know how it goes. I've seen it happen a lot on the streets,” I replied. “Maybe we could have a grilled cheese together sometime? You know, without the beer.”

She chewed on her lip in thought for a minute and took another long drag on her cigarette. I waited eagerly for her answer. She was a broken woman and I knew it, but I was a broken guy and I healed. I wanted to heal her too. I so desperately wanted to do everything I could to make her feel whole again. It felt like my only purpose in life.

“I'm off at eight. Do you, uh, have cab fare?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

I grinned. It was like everything was falling into place for me and I never thought the world could be beautiful again, but looking into those green eyes and hearing her say those words just made my heart feel warm. It was even warmer than it felt when I drank. I didn't need booze. I wanted her to be my substance of choice.

“I do,” I said. “I—I got a job at the factory. I'm a workin' guy.”

She smiled.

“Well, if you wanna catch me after work, I'll uh, I'll meet you here. I mean, if a nice, cleaned up guy like you
really
wants to have grilled cheese with a girl like me,” she said, looking down at the ground.

“I wouldn't wanna have a grilled cheese with any girl if she wasn't a girl like you.”

Chapter 6 – Déjà Vu

Ella drove us to her apartment and I was really happy to see that she had cleaned the place up a lot. It looked like a beautiful woman should live there rather than a junkie. She deserved to live in a mansion, in my eyes, but it was an improvement. It was nicer than my halfway house and that was a start. I hoped that I could work at the factory long enough to maybe take care of her someday, if she would let me, of course.

“It looks nice,” I said, looking around the apartment. “You cleaned it up a lot.”

She nodded, tossing her keys on the counter-top.

“Yeah, my fingers ain't broke all the time anymore so I can kinda keep the place clean,” she said, wringing her hands. “I think I'm doin' a lot better now. Maybe someday I can get the hell outta here, but it's progress, y'know. Uhh, how about that grilled cheese, then?”

I gave her a crooked smile and nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good. You want any help?”

She chuckled and shook her head.

“I think I got it, but thanks. If you wanna get us some glasses they're in the right-hand cupboard next to the sink. Maybe get us some water? I just have tap, so I hope that's okay,” she replied, walking over to the fridge and fetching some bread and cheese.

I opened the cupboard that she was talking about and filled two glasses with water. I sat down at the counter and watched her cook. I was just fixated on her. I couldn't look away, even if I tried. We didn't say anything as she made the grilled cheese. We were silent, but it wasn't awkward like usual. It was just nice and peaceful. It was almost like we were a married couple. I liked the idea of that.

She finished cooking the grilled cheese sandwiches and put them on paper plates, just like she had several months before. She slide it across the counter-top and it was in front of me. Once I saw it, I realized how hungry I really was, and I started eating it. She sat down next to me and I felt the warmth radiating from her body. It just reminded me of being intimate with her and it was hard to focus on eating.

Then, she laughed and pointed at my face and I wondered if I was ugly or if she noticed my wandering eye or something. I frowned, but then she pointed at the corner of her mouth and then pointed at mine. Confused, I touched the spot she was referring to and felt a glob of cheese. Embarrassed, I wiped it away and cleared my throat, trying not to look too much like an idiot.