Chapter 37
Marc
Ididn’t bother putting anything on past my boxers before hauling ass downstairs.
JD was close behind me, also taking the steps two or three at a time.
At first glance, when I landed at the bottom of the stairs, nothing seemed amiss.
The walk-in fridge was intact, and it looked like the power was still on, though thanks to the storm outside, it was dark as fuck despite being only late afternoon.
Suddenly, I realized the sound of wind and rain was a hell of a lot louder than it should have been.
I raced through the curtain separating the front of the store from the back and emerged behind the counter to a scene straight out of my worst nightmare.
The front of the store was gone. Where the enormous glass windows had once been, there was now a gaping hole and the massive tree limb that had clearly made it.
“Holy shit,” JD whispered as he stepped up beside me.
All I could manage was a disbelieving grunt.
This couldn’t be happening. We’d barely been open a week.
All the work we’d done. Gone. I looked around helplessly at the ruined displays we’d put together, the broken flowers strewn across the floor, water everywhere; even the display fridge hadn’t escaped unscathed.
I moved to walk around the counter in a daze, the wind whipping my hair while rain splattered on my face.
“Wait!” JD shouted, grabbing my arm before I could take more than a couple of steps. “There’s glass everywhere. At least let me grab the shoes from the back entrance. And some brooms,” he added belatedly.
I simply stared at him, my mind feeling untethered from my body.
Everything I’d worked so hard for—everything we’d worked for—gone.
I’d have to start all over again. Fragments of flowers blew around, some landing artfully on the tree limb that would take at least three men to move, if not a truck.
It was like Mother Nature was mocking me.
“Okay, here are some shoes. Sorry, the only pairs I could find quickly were mine.” His flurry of movement paused, and he looked at me with concern. “Marc, hey, are you okay?”
“It’s over. I sank everything I had into restoring this place and getting inventory.
What am I going to do?” Panic banded around my chest as if someone were tightening the screws, and my breath came out in short bursts.
Then James was in front of me, holding my face so I had no choice but to look at him.
“You survived being taken and held for two weeks in a hostile country. You can survive this too.”
Technically true, but the only reason I’d survived that was because he’d rescued me. And this… this wasn’t that. This was my livelihood, my dream, my future, and it’d just had a giant fucking tree limb shoved through the center of it.
James dropped his hands to my shoulders and gave me a gentle shake. “We can fix this.”
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.” Admitting the defeat out loud was like a gut punch.
“We’re going to start by cleaning up this glass so we don’t get hurt while taking stock of the situation.” He glanced toward the front. “On the upside, it looks like the storm is letting up.”
“Lot of good that does me now,” I said bitterly as I stomped my feet into the too-big shoes. It was clear from James’ expression that he wanted to say something. Rather than give him the opportunity, I grabbed the broom he was holding and walked around the counter.
Thirty minutes later, the storm had officially died down, and we’d barely made a dent.
Glass filled the large bin I used for cuttings, and I could already tell the dumpster out back wouldn’t be big enough for everything that would have to be tossed.
I’d stubbornly and perhaps too optimistically hoped that cleaning would reveal that the damage wasn’t as bad as it seemed.
Except it was. The shop literally looked worse than it had when I’d arrived in Fairhope two months ago.
“Knock knock.”
I looked up at the impromptu greeting. At seeing who it was, my scowl deepened. “Officer Beechum.”
He grinned and tapped the star on his chest. “It’s Sheriff now.
” When I didn’t say anything, he went on.
“Brody told me you were back. Said you quit the army. Shoulda known you’d be at the flower shop.
You practically lived here when you’d come to visit.
” Despite the almost jovial way he said it, I didn’t miss the undercurrent of derision.
“Can we help you with something, Sheriff?” James asked as I stared blankly at Beechum Sr.
“We’re canvassing the town to see if anyone needs help,” he said, turning his gaze to James. “Make sure everyone is okay.” He gave him a once-over, taking in his state of dress and subtly flicking his gaze to me.
“We were upstairs when it happened. No damage there. But we’ll definitely need help to remove this.
” James patted the rough bark of the fat limb that had skewered my life.
If Alex were here, she’d probably tell me I was imagining things, that Beechum Senior’s lip didn’t curl in disgust and his look was nothing more than assessing our welfare.
But she’d be wrong. There was nothing fanciful about the cold cruelty that sharpened his gaze.
“A lot of places have damage. Sadly, it’s a matter of triage. Could be a while before we can spare the hands. But I’m sure a strong lad like yourself will manage fine. You serve too?”
James’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’ll need help.”
“Like I said, could be a bit, might even be a few days. I’ll see what I can spare.”
“Is the damage really that bad out there?” James asked, turning from the sheriff to look at me.
“You questioning me, son?” Sheriff Beechum snapped, menace shadowing the question. “Maybe you should be a little less worried about breaking a nail. From what I see, it doesn’t look like y’all need help at all.”
Surprise exploded across James’ face. “Excuse me?”
“You’re excused.” The sheriff bent down to pick up a chunk of glass that had part of the Pride sticker on it and sneered. “Funny, I thought they didn’t let your sort into the Army. Then again, they let in Weathers.”
James crossed his arms over his chest, and I bristled. “And what sort would that be?” he asked.
“Don’t go gettin’ prissy with me. All I’m sayin’ is the military’s not what it used to be, what with letting fairies in and all.”
That was the last straw. I took an angry step forward. “Shut your damn mouth. You don’t get to talk to him like that. Sergeant Gallagher is a red-blooded American hero. He has saved more people than your tiny brain can imagine.”
“What did you say to me?” Sheriff Beechum turned an ugly glower on me.
“I said you’re a fucking bigot and I want you outta my damn shop. But first, you’re going to apologize to Sergeant Gallagher.”
“Marc,” James hissed as I continued to advance on the sheriff.
“No. He doesn’t get to come in here and insult you. He doesn’t know a damn thing about you.” I turned my attention to the sheriff, who was noticeably redder in the face. “Now apologize and get the fuck out.”
“Boy, you forget yourself. Step back or—”
“Or what? Are you going to trash my shop? Make my life hell, like your son? Come on, Sheriff, what are you going to do?” Each question flew out of me like bullets, glass crunching beneath my feet as I advanced on him.
“I will arrest you for public indecency and assaulting an officer of the law,” he snarled.
“Spec. Weathers, that’s enough.” James’ words cracked out like a whip.
I froze and struggled to contain my seething anger. “He has no right talking to you like that. Whatever else he may think, you serve your country faithfully.”
“Step back, boy. I will arrest you.”
“For what? I can’t be ‘publicly indecent’. It’s my goddamn shop,” I fired back.
The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “Actually, I can. Your shop is open to the elements. This space now qualifies as outdoors and there are kids around, which makes you not just indecent but exposing yourself to minors.”
“You fucking—”
“Specialist Weathers, I said that’s enough,” James snapped, halting my renewed advance. I shot him a furious glare. “Go upstairs. I’ll take care of this.”
“But—”
“Up. Stairs. Soldier,” he said firmly, his face hard.
I seethed with fury. “Are you fucking—”
“Now,” he barked, leaving no room for argument.
Vibrating with rage, I spun on my heel, grinding glass fragments into particles, and stomped toward the back of the shop and the stairs.
Sheriff Beechum’s snickers mocked every step I took.
The grating sound continued to ring in my ears even after I slammed the apartment door behind me.
I stood in the middle of the open space, heaving for breath and fighting the urge to go back downstairs and give everyone a piece of my mind.
How could JD talk to me like that? I wasn’t enlisted anymore and I sure as fuck wasn’t his subordinate.
And military shit aside, I thought we were friends—more than friends.
The least he could do was talk to me with respect, instead of sending me to my room like a wayward child.
I yanked off his shoes, which I’d tied within an inch of their life so they didn’t fall off, and hurled them across the room.
One landed with a sharp smack near his duffel bag, while the other rebounded off the wall to knock the lamp onto its side.
It was almost disappointing that it hadn’t broken.
Fuck knew everything else in my life was.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been standing there glaring at nothing when the apartment door opened and JD walked in.
“I took care of the sheriff, but I wouldn’t count on any aid moving that limb. What the hell was that all about?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Me? You. Where do you get off talking to me like that? We’re not in the damn army,” I snarled.
His scowl deepened. “Excuse the fuck out of me for making sure you didn’t get arrested.”
I gave a derisive snort. “Beechum Senior isn’t any braver than his shitty son. It was an empty threat.”
“Well, it didn’t look empty to me. It looked like you were going to spend the night in jail.”
“Even if the bigoted asshole arrested me, it wouldn’t have stuck. It wouldn’t matter how he twisted it. He didn’t have a leg to stand on,” I argued.
“I disagree. That man was ready to drag you out of here in handcuffs. I’ve met people like him—hell I’ve served under them. He’d find something to stick and it would have been real fucking easy with the way you were going at him.”
I clenched my fists at my sides as another wave of anger rolled over me. “I had it under control.”
“Didn’t look that way to me.”
I threw my hands out. “I don’t give a shit what it looked like. You had no right to interfere.”
“So I should have stood there while you dug yourself deeper with each word? Someone had to save you from yourself,” he clapped back, his voice rising to match mine.
“I didn’t ask you to save me!”
“Well, maybe you should stop doing stupid shit that requires you to be saved!” he shouted right back.
I’d gotten stabbed once while deployed. I could still remember the feel of cold steel sliding into me, the sharp pain as my flesh separated from the unforgiving blade.
This hurt more. My anger peaked, and I immediately shut down before I could say something I couldn’t take back.
I spun on my heel and stalked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
Only now I was trapped in a room where he’d held me close, where we’d whispered the truth of our lives to each other, where we’d made love.
I grunted as another sharp pain lanced through my heart.
Tears pricked at my eyes as emotion threatened to drown me.
I wasn’t a stranger to feeling overwhelmed—far from it—but this was so much more.
How blind I’d been to believe we could be something, that he could actually love me the way I loved him.
But love required mutual respect. I would never be anything more to Sergeant Gallagher than the soldier who’d gotten his unit captured.
Someone who couldn’t be trusted. Someone who would always need to be saved.
Suddenly I couldn’t bear to be within twenty feet of him.
I had to get out of here. I grabbed a shirt off the floor and yanked it on, quickly followed by a pair of loose shorts, and slipped my bare feet into flip-flops.
Then I grabbed my duffel from under the bed.
I snarled at seeing the familiar camo pattern and threw it across the room to slam against the wall.
Apparently, I was a person who threw things now, because I had the overwhelming urge to pick up more things and hurl them as hard as I could.
Instead, I stomped over to the closet, shoving things out of my way until I found an old backpack.
I shoved clothes into it, not bothering to make them fit properly before zipping it up, slung the strap over my shoulder, and yanked the bedroom door open again.
JD looked up at my abrupt reappearance. He was still wearing his black boxer briefs and tennis shoes.
“What are you doing?” Normally, the concern in his voice would give me pause. Not now, though. Not now that I knew what he really thought of me. “Marc, talk to me. I shouldn’t have—”
I whirled to glare at him. “No, you fucking shouldn’t.
Enjoy your reenlistment. At least there you won’t have to worry about constantly rescuing me.
” His mouth was hanging open when I turned back to the door and threw it open.
“You can stay here until your leave is up, or you can go. I don’t fucking give a shit.
Either way, I won’t be.” I stepped through the doorway, trying like hell to keep it together long enough to get far away from here and far away from the man who’d shredded my heart into mulch.
I was halfway down the stairs when I heard the apartment door hit the wall.
At the sound of heavy footfalls coming fast, I quickened my pace, all but flying the rest of the way.
“Marc! Marc, wait! I didn’t mean it like that!”
I was a fool about a lot of things, but I refused to be one for him any longer.
However he meant it, he’d said it, given voice to the truth, and thrown it in my face.
I had a moment of panic when his thundering steps increased in speed and I couldn’t find my car keys.
Finally, I spotted them hanging on a hook by the back door.
I hadn’t put them there, which meant he had.
Just another example of him saving me from myself, because I couldn’t be trusted to handle my life.
Then I was out the door, simultaneously unlocking and yanking the car door open. I tossed my bag into the passenger seat and cranked the engine. I stubbornly fought the urge to check the rearview to see if he was standing there and pulled out of the alley onto the main road.