Written in the Scars (24 page)

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Authors: Adriana Locke

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BOOK: Written in the Scars
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He keeps his vision trained on something out the window. “You know what you said last night about finding love in tough situations?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.” He angles his head to the side and looks at me. “A lot of things happened, a lot of things I won’t forget. Like what it’s like to feel your body crunch beneath the weight of a timber trapping you underground. All the things your mind considers when you contemplate you might not make it to the surface before you die.

“I know what it’s like to crave a release from pain and I know what it’s like to suffer the humiliation of knowing you’ve let everyone around you down,” he says, swallowing hard. “But the one thing I don’t think I’ll be able to really make peace with is not being here for you.”

“I struggle with that too. Maybe it’s unfair—”

“No, it’s not,” he gruffs. “I’m the one that slammed my phone and broke it in pieces. I didn’t replace it. It was me that thought you would be fine with Jiggs, but I was wrong. It was my place, my role.”

I start to disagree, but can’t. He’s right. We both know it.

“Do you think we can fix this?” I say instead.

“We are going to find the love. We are going to love each other so fucking much that we either forget the pain or we can’t feel it anymore. That doesn’t mean we forget the baby,” he says, a shake to his head, “but it means we honor it by loving each other.”

I can’t breathe, can’t respond to his words because it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.

“Day by day,” he says, “we take it easy. We have no rush. No pressure. No calendars and stupid ass internal temperatures. It’s me and you. I want to date you all over again.”

Giggling, I press a soft kiss to his lips. “I hope you’re out of practice dating people, Coach.”

“It’s a damn good thing I have a playbook full of practice techniques then, isn’t it?”

He squeezes my ass, making me yelp as he carries me out of the room, melting me into a pile of goo with his decadent smirk.

ELIN

The music is streaming overhead, scents of oregano and tomato sauce wafting through the door as I clutch Ty’s hand as he leads me into Thoroughbreds. He glances at me over his shoulder, his eyes sparkling in the halogen lights, as the doors chime shut behind us.

I squeeze his hand; it’s met with a gentle clasping of his own.

I can’t stop smiling. I haven’t stopped since we came up for air a few hours ago. Not that he has either, nor has he stopped touching me in some way, like he’s afraid I won’t be there if he breaks contact. There have been no objections from me.

“Now that’s a sight for sore eyes!” Jiggs shouts, tipping a beer bottle our way.

Our friends are at our usual table in the corner. The looks on their faces make Ty and I laugh as they see us together, our fingers interlocked.

“All is right in the world!” Lindsay says, standing up and hugging me. I return the embrace with one hand because Ty won’t let go of my other.

“Yeah, we are getting there.”

“Excuse me,” she says, clearing her throat. “You do remember me, right? I’m Lindsay Watson, married to a man that you grew up with. You remember Jiggs?”

“Shut up,” I laugh. “I’ve been . . . busy.”

She looks at my husband and giggles. “Oh, I bet you have. How are ya, Ty?”

“Much better these days,” he winks.

A hand touches my shoulder and I jump, as does Ty. We turn to see Cord beaming behind us, one hand on each of us.

“Finally,” he laughs. “My God, I thought the two of you were gonna kill me. Hard-headed bastards.”

“Yeah, she is,” Ty says, laughing as I knock him with my shoulder.

“Come on, let’s play some pool,” Jiggs says.

Ty kisses me, letting his lips linger much longer than necessary, before joining my brother at the table in front of us. “Cord, wanna play?” he asks.

“Nope. I suck.”

“Which is why we want you to play,” Ty jokes. “So we can kick your ass.”

We watch them rack the balls and then Jiggs break. We all feel it, I know we do, the feeling of our tribe being back together. It’s the way things should be.

“I have to say,” Lindsay says, “seeing you walk in here with him made my day. Did you get everything figured out?”

“Some things just have to be shelved and hope that time heals like it’s supposed to. I’m trying to let things go.”

“You will,” Lindsay says, standing up. “I gotta pee. I’m sorry. I’m drinking all this water because I literally crave water all day. All night. But then I have to pee constantly,” she laughs, hand on her belly, and makes a beeline for the restroom.

Turning to my right, Cord is watching me. He takes a long draw of his beer and settles back in his chair with a smirk.

“What?” I ask, taking my drink from the server. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason,” he says, the dimple in his cheek settling in.

I sip my cola and watch my friend make fun of me without making fun of me. His adorableness making me roll my eyes. “Oh, there’s a reason,” I say. “You’re just scared to tell me what it is.”

“Hell, yeah, I am. You’re not known as the pit bull for nothing.”

“Oh, shut up!” I laugh, tossing a napkin at him. “That nickname is so unwarranted.”

“Whatever. I’ve seen you in action, babe.” He leans forward and peers at me. “So, you took my advice, I see.”

“Yes, I took your advice,” I say. “It was good advice. What can I say?”

“You could say, ‘Wow, Cord, you’re a genius.’ Or tell me how handsome I am or how I just saved your life. Any of those would be sufficient.”

Laughing, I watch Ty’s ass in his jeans as he bends over the table to take a shot. “Cord, I love you. And you’re handsome and you might’ve saved my marriage. But you being a genius and saving my actual life are stretching it.”

“Fair enough,” he admits, shrugging his shoulders. “You know, maybe I should’ve been a psychiatrist. I could charge big money for this shit.”

“Don’t do that. Then you’ll be all expensive and book up for a year at a time and I won’t get free help.”

“Ah, I’d never charge you. Even if I become the next big thing, you’ll still have total access to me for no charge.”

“Good to know,” I laugh, placing my drink on a napkin and look at him. I toss him a grin and he blanches.

“That look on your face scares me,” he says, pointing his finger at me.

“Let’s talk about you,” I say sweetly, buttering him up.

He groans, rolling his eyes. “Let’s not.”

My excitement is all over my face. I know this because of Cord’s reaction, which makes me laugh. “We need to get you a girl.”

“Nah.”

“Come on, McCurry. It’s time you step out of this bachelor role and settle down.”

He leans back in his chair, his eyes darkening. His fingers lace together, planted on his lap. “I have no intentions of settling down.”

“And why not?”

“Pushy much?” he laughs.

“You know this about me,” I giggle. “We need you to get a girl and be happy.”

“Maybe I’m happy the way I am.”

“How could you be?” I sigh. “Everyone needs someone to love, someone to relax with and have fun with.”

“I have Yogi.”

“Cord . . .”

Leaning forward, his eyes peer into mine. “Look, Elin. I appreciate you trying to do what you think is best for me. I do. But not everyone is built the way you are.”

“Not everyone is built . . . awesome?”

“Try . . . built to settle down.” He releases a heavy breath. “I don’t have the capacity to love like you do, Elin.”

I blanch, my brows pulling together. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve never felt love like you have with Ty or like you had with your parents. It’s always just been . . . me.”

“You saying you don’t love me?” I tease.

“You know what I mean,” he chuckles. “I don’t know how to give that kind of love or feel it, even, I guess. It’s not something I know.”

He smiles, tries to play it off for me, but my heart cracks at the idea. How can this man, one of the sweetest men I know, feel this way?

“Cord, buddy, you love all of us. Think about it.” I bite my tongue, trying to choose my words carefully. I know this is all because his mother didn’t want him and I hate her for that. But I’m not sure saying that will help right now. “You just haven’t met the right girl yet, maybe.”

“Maybe. I’ll just keep the friends-with-benefits thing going awhile. But that motherfucker,” he says, looking over my shoulder, “isn’t one of my friends.”

I turn to see what he’s referring to. Pettis is approaching our table, his cousin, Sharp, by his side.

“Oh, shit,” I mutter, looking up at Ty. He’s leaned against the table, not missing a thing.

“How are you fine folks this evening?” Pettis asks, his grin that of a movie villain.

Before we can respond, Becca walks up beside Pettis. “Can I get you guys anything else?” She scans the group, picking up on the awkwardness, before her gaze lands on Cord.

Without thinking, she brushes her hair off her shoulder and smiles wide. “Need anything, Cord?”

“I think I’m good, Becca. Thank you,” he drawls, a kind smile flashing her way while holding on to the fury aimed at Pettis.

Pettis laughs. “I could use a beer.”

“I’ll grab it,” Becca says, tearing her eyes away from Cord. “Anything in particular?”

Pettis scans her up and down and grins. “Wanna do something after you get off?”

Cord stands, shocking everyone with his quick movement. “Nah, she doesn’t.”

“I’m pretty sure she can answer for herself,” Pettis says.

Becca’s eyes go wide, as do mine, as she watches Cord’s reaction. His All-American look just took a turn to the dark side and it’s intriguing. His jaw sets tight as he peers down at Pettis.

“Tell him, Becca. We’re going out tonight.”

“Um,” she stumbles, her cheeks heating as she obviously scrambles to stay on top of whatever it is Cord’s playing. “Yeah. Um, Cord asked me to go out later. Sorry.”

Jumping to my feet to take the attention off Becca, I flash Pettis a cheesy smile as Sharp laughs from his side.

“You’re Whitt’s old lady, aren’t ya?” he asks, taking a step to me.

“Fuck off, Sharp,” I say, holding my ground. There’s a twist of anxiety in my gut, but I override it. “No one wants you here.” I can feel Ty behind me, his energy bouncing off me.

“You might not, but what about you, Whitt?” Sharp asks, his words as piercing as his name. “Since we’re taking orders here tonight, you need anything?”

“Get out of here, Sharp,” Ty growls, moving me to the side. “This isn’t the time or the place for this.”

“What?” Pettis laughs. “You don’t want your wifey here to know you and Sharp are buds. That you were buying a little something-something off him while she was taking care of the kids at school?”

“That’s enough,” Cord rumbles, making Becca take a step back towards Jiggs.

Sharp and Pettis laugh, their voices as dirty as the fibers of the shirts covering their needle-pricked skin. “It’s hard to tell the wives sometimes, especially when you have that pretty boy image you got going on, that you are just like the rest of us.”

“Fuck you, Sharp. I never bought a fucking thing from you.”

He shrugs, a dopey grin on his face. “But you were going to. You called me. Remember that? Or is that wiped out now that princess here took you back?”

Pettis laughs again, his voice rolling through the pub. “You always thought you were better than the rest of us. The Golden Boy from Jackson, can do no wrong. I’m telling ya, kids, the golden boy has fallen from grace. Does she know about you and that redhead in Rockville, Ty?”

“What?” I gasp, looking at Ty. My attention isn’t there for long because Cord lurches forward.

“Well, I never had grace to start with,” Cord says as his fist flies through the air between them.

The sound of Cord’s hand smashing against Pettis’ face ricochets through the room. His head flops back, blood trickling from his nose, as he stumbles to stay on his feet. Sharp grabs his shoulder and steadies him.

“I warned you,” Cord says, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Hey!” Bob Gurley, the owner of the pub, says as he rushes our way. “What’s happening over here?”

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