Chapter 11 #4
She needed to apologize to Truck. To tell him she hadn’t meant to blab about his continued headaches. “I need to talk to Truck,” she told Rayne.
Rayne’s voice gentled. “Tell him about the cancer,” Rayne urged. “It’s eating you alive, Mare.”
“I’ll think about it,” Mary told her.
Rayne leaned forward and hugged her, hard. “You do that,” she said. “Call me tonight, bitch. I’ll give you the update on Emily and the baby.”
Nodding, Mary knew she didn’t deserve a best friend like Rayne. They might fight, but they always made up and never held grudges. She loved that about their friendship.
Mary took a deep breath and walked over to where Truck was standing talking to Ghost. “Truck?”
He turned to her, and she almost flinched at the frustrated look on his face. Ghost stepped away, giving them some privacy.
“I’m sorry,” she said immediately. “It just popped out.”
Truck ran a hand over his jaw and nodded.
Mary swallowed. In the past, Truck would’ve immediately told her it was okay and let her off the hook…
thus making it easy to keep being a bitch, because she didn’t suffer any consequences from it.
But now that she had to own up to what she’d done, and he wasn’t giving her an automatic out, it hit home just how much she’d taken advantage of his easygoing nature.
Feeling uncomfortable, and knowing she needed to retreat to lick her wounds, she bit her lip. “I need to get going,” she said.
Truck simply stared down at her.
Shifting awkwardly, Mary knew she was doing what she always did—running—but couldn’t help it. “I’ll talk to you later.”
When Truck didn’t respond, just continued to look at her with that disappointed expression on his face, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Tell Annie bye for me,” she whispered, then turned and headed for the exit.
Truck watched in frustration as Mary left.
She was keeping something from him. Something big.
And he hated it. He believed her when she’d said she hadn’t meant to tell the others about his headaches, and he’d already forgiven her for that.
But he’d wanted her to explain why she’d felt the need to change the subject earlier.
He wanted to find the nurse Mary had been talking to and demand she tell him about the appointment Mary had missed, but he knew she wouldn’t talk to him. It was frustrating as hell.
“You sure you’re all right?” Ghost asked for the tenth time.
“I’m fine,” Truck said…again. “Enough.”
“It’s been three weeks,” Coach said. “The headaches should be receding.”
“The doc also said there was a chance they wouldn’t. That it would take longer for the bruises on my brain to heal,” Truck told his friend.
“Are you remembering anything more?” Beatle asked.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Blade asked. “What kind of answer is that?”
“An honest one,” Truck said with a chuckle. “I don’t remember anything specific, it’s more like feelings, as if I’ve been somewhere before or done something before.”
“Like?” Ghost asked.
“Like earlier today when I entered this waiting room, it felt as if I’d done it before.”
“You have,” Coach confirmed. “When Kassie had her baby.”
“Right. That’s what Mary said,” Truck agreed. “But it’s more too. Scents are big for me. I can smell something and get an immediate sense of déjà vu. I might hear something and get the same feeling. It’s…odd.”
“It’s good,” Ghost said.
“Yeah, I think so too. Which is why I’m not too concerned about my headaches. They’re really just a nuisance.”
“So why did Mary make such a big deal out of them then?” Blade asked.
“Because she’s worried about me,” Truck said without hesitation.
“I honestly don’t think she meant to get me in trouble with you guys, but she missed an appointment of some kind and the nurse was asking her about it.
When I asked what the appointment was for, she clammed up, which isn’t like her.
She usually has no problem answering my questions, especially when it’s something she knows I’ve forgotten. ”
He waited for someone to tell him what he wanted to know—but suddenly everyone was extremely interested in their watch. Or the floor. Or the walls.
Damn it all to hell. He was done with this shit.
“I’m out of here,” Truck told his friends.
“Truck, wait,” Ghost implored.
“I’m sick to death of being kept in the dark about things from my own fucking life. I thought we’d gotten past that shit?”
“It’s not our place to tell you,” Coach said. “It’s Mary’s.”
“It was your place to tell me about your women,” Truck fired back. “But you didn’t do that either. Mary did. Someone tell me. Right fucking now.”
He gave his friends ten uncomfortable seconds, and when no one said anything, Truck shook his head and headed for the door.
He was pissed. Beyond pissed.
A woman was about to enter the room when he stormed out the door, and she squeaked in alarm when she saw him. But Truck didn’t care. He usually did his best to not seem intimidating when he was out in public, but he was beyond caring about that at the moment.
He was sick of all the secrets.
Sick of not knowing what the hell was going on around him.
But more than that, he was worried.
About Mary.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her on his way home.
He thought about her as he went up to his apartment.
He thought about her as he made something to eat for dinner.
He thought about her as he sat on his couch and watched the news.
He thought about her as he brushed his teeth.
And he definitely thought about her as he lay in his bed.
When he closed his eyes, Truck could swear that he felt Mary’s body next to his. He actually reached for her, but when his hand encountered nothing but cool sheets, he knew he was hallucinating.
Or was he?
Could he be remembering?
Mary had stayed the night twice since they’d slept together on her couch, but both times they’d stayed out in his living room.
So why could he practically sense her here in his bedroom?
Opening his eyes and turning over, Truck flicked on the light next to his bed. His eyes slowly roamed the room, looking for something, anything, that would tell him he wasn’t making things up that he just wanted to be true.
His eyes stopped on a section of wall next to the door leading out to the hall.
He stared at the white wall for several minutes, trying to bring something into focus that was just out of reach.
Sighing in frustration, Truck flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
Mary was his. He knew it down to the marrow of his bones, but he didn’t know how to break through the barrier that was still between them. It was frustrating. He wanted to tell her that no matter what had happened with them in the past, it didn’t matter now.
But he had a feeling it did matter. A lot.
Tomorrow, he’d start getting to the bottom of things. He was a Delta Force soldier, for God’s sake. One who was currently on a forced break. It was time he tried to find out about his and Mary’s past on his own.
Feeling better now that he had some sort of plan, Truck closed his eyes once more. His imagination kicked in, and his hand moved of its own volition. He brushed it against his dick and felt himself immediately harden.
“Fuck it,” he whispered and pushed his boxers down, freeing his cock. Then, bringing the feeling of having Mary against his side to the forefront of his mind, Truck got himself off. After he’d gone to the bathroom and cleaned up and returned to his bed, he felt much more relaxed.
Mary was his.
Period.
And no one would keep him from her.
Not his friends, and certainly not Mary herself.