Chapter 17 #2
It’s a sucker punch to the stomach to see her acting so guarded around me, but I can’t blame her. Especially since the last time we were alone together, I cornered her and then shouted at her for defending me. Like an asshole.
“I came here to apologise for how I acted in the barn.” I hesitate and scratch the back of my head. “And to explain why I acted the way I did.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widen, clearly not expecting me so say that. “Okay.”
I shift, mostly to get comfortable but also to hide how uneasy I am about sharing some of my most private thoughts and fears.
Things I’ve never told anyone, not even my best friends.
Ollie deserves to hear about them, not only because she’s shared some intimate things with me but because I want her to know the person I am behind the mask I wear.
Here’s hoping she doesn’t laugh in my face.
“You know I was a member of the SAS, right?”
She nods but remains quiet.
“I did most of my work overseas, specialising in intel gathering and target neutralisation. My team and I were in Russia for our last operation and were heading back to the airport to fly out.”
Ollie frowns and slides closer to me. “Russia?”
“Yeah. After the oil shortages hit five years ago, we and several other countries sent covert spec ops teams into various places to figure out what the fuck was going on.” I suck in a deep breath, steeling myself for what I have to say next.
“I was operation lead and in-charge of getting us out safely. The route I’d chosen should have been safe; the Americans had cleared it the week before. But it wasn’t.”
I swallow hard. “On the way, we got hit by an IED and it completely tore through the transport truck we were using.” My hands clench into fists in my lap as echoes of the explosion and the screams of soldiers around me reverberate in my mind. “I was the only one who survived.”
Memories assault me, dragging me back to that horrific day.
The stench of burning flesh and gunpowder thick in the air.
Metal groaning and screeching as it twisted and bent beneath the force of the explosion.
The bloodcurdling cries of my friends, the soldiers I was tasked to keep safe.
And the all-consuming pain searing across my face, neck, and chest.
A small, warm hand wraps around one of my fists. I blink back the blood-soaked images and focus on Ollie’s hand on mine.
“How were you supposed to know that the route wasn’t safe if it’d been cleared?” she asks softly.
I blow out a breath. This is the part I’m most ashamed of.
“A member of my team—Jack—had concerns about the route and how open it was. He said insurgents could have come back during the night to relay IEDs, but I dismissed it.” And for that one stupid mistake, I cost him and two other good men their lives.
My fists tighten until my nails bite into my palms, almost to the point of breaking skin. Ollie stays silent, her touch grounding me as I fight back those memories. Only then do I look up to see her regarding me with understanding.
She’s been where I have, dealing with the guilt of being the only one to survive. Of living knowing that if you’d done something different, then maybe no one would have died. My hand opens, and she threads her fingers through mine.
“You know what happened to me,” she says, not looking surprised.
I nod hesitantly. “I heard you the night you told Theo.” My body tenses as I wait for her to shout at me for eavesdropping, but she never does. Instead, she dives straight to the crux of the situation.
“So what does that have to do with you being a massive asshole to me after I punched your ex-wife?”
I suck in a sharp breath, dreading the next part.
Here goes nothing.
“The hospital stay was probably the worst part of the whole thing. Just lying in that bed, unable to do anything while replaying what happened over and over in my mind until it drove me mad. I hated it. I felt weak and useless. And then Jerri finally visited me and she…” I hesitate, hating that talking about this is bringing all those emotions to the surface.
Ollie’s small hand tightens on mine, a silent show of support.
I don’t deserve this woman or the grace she’s showing me, but I don’t dare push her away. There’s a chance that this’ll be the only time I’ll get to touch her and I don’t want to waste it.
I clear my throat. “Jerri didn’t handle the whole thing well, which only made me feel worse. Thanks to that IED, I basically lost everything; a career I loved, my wife, and parts of my sanity.” I can feel myself sinking into that familiar hopelessness and shake myself. Get it together, asshole.
“Jerri’s always been great at hitting me where it hurts, and when you defended me, it made me feel like I was back in that damn hospital bed.
Like I was too useless to care for myself.
And instead of being a mature adult and dealing with it, I lashed out at you.
You didn’t deserve my anger, and I should have apologised there and then instead of just standing there like an asshole. I’m truly sorry for all of it.”
I stare at our conjoined hands, too scared and ashamed to meet her eyes.
It’s stupid how much of a coward I am with emotional vulnerability.
I can stare down the barrel of a gun without flinching and wade into a hail of bullets without blinking, but force me to open up to someone who isn’t Alex and Theo, and I’m more terrified than a virgin on her wedding night.
It’s pathetic, but nothing in my life has prepared me for this emotional shit.
Sure, my parents loved me, but they were old-fashioned.
Hugs and casual affection weren’t common in my house, and they weren’t interested in me until I was much older.
By then I had my own life and career, and was too busy to spend any real time with them.
The only one of my family I really spent any time with was Harriet, and that was to keep her out of trouble.
Ollie sighs and squeezes my hand. “I accept your apology.”
My head jerks up in surprise, and our eyes meet.
“That doesn’t mean I completely forgive you,” she says, holding up her other hand.
“But I understand why you did what you did. Just as long as you promise me that next time, you won’t pull that shit on me.
” She gives me a stern look—or tries to.
It doesn’t really work when she’s one of the least intimidating people I’ve ever met.
Not that I’d ever tell her that. What she lacks in intimidation, she more than makes up for with bravery, determination, and a sheer lack of common sense.
“I won’t promise not to be a complete dick—I’m self-aware enough to know who I am—but I won’t lash out at you like that again.” I hold out my other hand, indicating that we should shake on it.
She takes it, her handshake surprisingly firm. “I agree to the same.”
“Friends?” I don’t know why that comes out of my mouth, especially since my feelings for her are very much not friendly. Probably my fear talking, since after the way I treated her, I doubt she wants me romantically. Especially now that she has Alex and Theo.
Ollie’s eyebrows shoot upward and her lips part in surprise. “Er, sure, we can be friends.” She removes her hands from mine.
The sense of loss is immediate, but I slam that shit down as I remind myself that this is for the best. A thick, awkward silence descends on us.
I shift and bite back a wince, my ass cheeks growing numb from sitting on the hard tiled floor and my muscles sore from the fight earlier.
Ollie averts her gaze, staring avidly at Harlow as she buries her fingers into the dog’s thick fur.
The tension in the room grows almost stifling. It seems neither of us know what to do or say to one another.
Thankfully, before I can embarrass myself further, the door to the kitchen flies open and Theo strides in. He stops dead when he sees the two of us, and a grin filled with satisfaction stretches across his lips.
“Well, what do we have here?” he asks as he saunters closer.
“Rhys was just apologising,” Ollie says.
“Fucking finally.”
I grimace. “Yeah, I know. I’m an asshole.” I shove myself to my feet, taking this as my cue to leave. “Anyways, I have shit to do. I’ll catch you guys later.” I hurry out of the room before either of them can stop me.