6. Linc
As I sit in my truck watching the windows in Kennedy’s house for any sign of movement, I come to the conclusion that I’ve officially become a stalker.
Liar.
In reality, I’ve been stalking Kennedy since I got out of the Marine Corps, but I wouldn’t necessarily call it stalking. I have her six, that is it. Kennedy doesn’t deserve all the shit I have going on in my life or the nightmares that I have every single night, but I’ll watch out for her. I’ll protect her with my life, even if it means I have to protect her from myself. Which is why I’m sitting my dumb ass in my truck and not in bed with her.
I’ll ruin her, and there isn’t anything I can do to stop it.
The lights in the house are off, except for the one she always keeps on in her bedroom, a little lamp that she got in eighth grade, and the one in her living room that sits on the bookshelf that she keeps under her windows to hold some of her favorite books. I don’t even have to be inside the house to know that, either. Kennedy likes light. She always has.
I’m only going to stay for an hour.Bargaining with myself, making empty promises, none of it seems to work. I’ll sit out there, in the dark, making sure she is safe from everything and everyone that can hurt her, including me, until my eyes will barely stay open. Then I’ll drive the mile and a half that it takes to get to my house, and I’ll fall asleep on my couch. There is no use arguing with the routine. Not when it is the only thing that keeps my nightmares at bay.
My phone lights up on my lap, and I answer it with a groan.
“What do you want, Remy?” The last thing I want is to explain to him what I’m doing in the middle of the night.
He sighs. “Thanks for getting rid of the lawyer. She called me crying, and I couldn’t get there in time to do anything about it.”
I can lie and tell him that it is a pain in the ass. Or I can tell him I don’t mind. I can say a hundred different things, but I won’t. There is something in the way she looked at me at Lucy’s, staring straight through the carefully constructed wall designed specifically to keep her out, into my soul and all the feelings hidden away, something frightening. And if I say a word about it, I’ll have to face the reality that I can’t stay away from her.
“You know why I did it.” Brutal honesty, and from the sharp intake of breath on Remy’s side of the call, he isn’t prepared for it either.
I love Kennedy. I’ve always loved her.
Remy knows it, and I’ve never denied it to him even though it may mean that I lose my best friend. But there is too much there; I’ve lost too much to ever give her anything. I’m not enough, and I will never be enough.
That doesn’t stop Remy from trying to put us together every single chance he gets. At first, that’s what I thought his call had been earlier. Just another excuse to push me together with the sister that I refuse to ruin. But I still went. I’ll always go. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Kennedy. If she wants me to cut my heart out of my chest and hand it to her, I’ll do it. Without hesitation or regret. That’s how important she’ll always be to me. It’s why I’ll never been able to move on from her. Why I never bother trying.
“Did you threaten Royal?” Remy sounds almost amused at the prospect.
A shadow moves behind Kennedy’s bedroom window, and I glance down at the clock embedded in my dashboard to see that it is close to three in the morning. She works as a dispatcher from four a.m. to four p.m., and I haven’t needed to stalk her to find that out. Kennedy works at Birch County Sheriff’s Office, one of BPD’s sister agencies, so we work together frequently. Or we would, if I didn’t manipulate the shit out of my schedule so that I don’t have to work with her.
“Yeah,” Remy goes on like I answered him. “He tried to file a complaint against her, but Chief came out and Royal ran in the other direction.” I snort, but Remy ignores it. “Seems lawyer boy didn’t like the idea of complaining to Dad.” He chuckles in my ear. “You shoulda seen it. I thought for sure he was about to shit himself right there in the lobby of the police station.”
Royal Prince has been a spoiled little shit his entire life, and there is no doubt in my mind that he honestly thinks he’ll get away with treating the chief of police’s daughter like she is his property. Unfortunately for him, and for anyone who dares hurt Kennedy, Chief Townsend is protective as fuck. A fact that he takes pleasure in reminding me of on an almost daily basis.
Kennedy’s front door opens, and she steps out into the dim light of her porch, effectively stealing my breath away like she always does, even with her red hair in a sloppy braid that hangs over her shoulder and dark circles under her eyes that I can see from my car.
“How is she?” As soon as the question leaves my lips, I regret uttering it. I never ask about her. I never bring her up in conversation, even if I make it my life’s mission to make sure that Kennedy is taken care of.
Remy sighs, his demeanor changing completely. I can see him just as clearly as if he sits next to me in the truck. His brow furrows and his lips pinch together while he tries to figure out what to say to me without betraying his little sister.
“She’s tired,” he finally answers. “She won’t talk about what happened with him or what he did to her, but she’s like she was… before.” Remy coughs, clearing his throat. “The only time I see her come out of that shell is when she’s around Parker and Nox… and sometimes you.”
While he talks, Kennedy gets into her car and leaves, effectively putting an end to the need for me to be there. I wait for her taillights to vanish completely, then put my truck in gear to head home.
“I really wish you’d pull your head out of your ass already and end both of your miseries.” Remy keeps talking. “I love my sister, Linc. Just like I love you like a brother. I don’t like seeing either one of you like this.”
“She’s been over me for years.” I don’t know who the fuck I’m trying to convince more, him or me. “She was going to get married, Remy.” Admitting that hurt so much more than it should have. “She’ll be fine.”
I hang up without waiting for him to say anything else, because there isn’t anything to say. Kennedy deserves to be happy. She deserves to have a life that I can’t give her. I condemned myself to a life sitting outside her window the day I walked away. The day Danny died. It doesn’t matter that I bought a ring I’ll never be able to give her. Nothing matters except the possibility that she’ll be able to have a family. One filled with a future that I can’t give her.
The only light on at my house is the dim blue bulb my little sister Emma insists on putting up to show support of law enforcement. No matter how much I try to convince her it is stupid, she still does it anyway, and I leave it because I love her.
I just won’t ever tell her that. I can’t. Not when telling her will bring our past back with a force I can’t face.
Silence wraps around me like an old friend once I step into the empty house that I should call home. My boots get put in their place, and I hang the keys on the rack where they belong as well, making sure that nothing is out of order.
The door to my bedroom sits open, and for a minute I think about trying to sleep. But the familiar scent of ash and dirt already starts to fill my mind, and I know sleep won’t be coming anytime soon.
Instead, I make it to the couch before the onslaught of memories push their way into my bones, and gunpowder fills my mouth as I’m taken back to the worst day of my life.
Fire rained down in the blistering heat, and I started running through the desert before the first piece of metal debris hit the dirt just up ahead.
“Danny!”
I had to be dying. My heart fucking hurt. Shards of glass pierced through my lungs, making it impossible to breathe as I pushed myself harder than should be possible. Even weighed down with gear, the heat, and the distance between us, I made it to the downed chopper in just a few seconds.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but run to my brother’s side. Gunfire erupted next to my head, filling the silence left by the chopper’s dying engine.
Flames roared, vehicles approached, and none of it mattered. The war didn’t matter. Only Danny mattered.
Numb, I didn’t even feel the blood seeping from my mouth when I ruptured something in my throat while screaming for my brother.
Hands tried to grab me, but I shoved them away while I searched for Danny. I called his name over and over again, shoving through the tattered remains of the chopper. Someone grabbed the pilot, pulling him from the wreckage, but I couldn’t find Danny.
Voices called out, screaming for me to leave the wreckage. I wasn’t going anywhere, though. Not until I found my brother.
I felt him there, in the destruction. I felt him reaching out for me, through the undeniable bond between twins. Agony, the likes of which no one could ever imagine, mixed with fear and death.
There. Under a piece of propeller, I found him.
His broken body. His blue eyes staring up at me as his chest rattled. His K-9 partner, Daisy, whimpering at his side, blood soaking into her fur. Danny.
“I got you. I got you. Come on, Danny.” I grabbed him, pulling as hard as I could to get him out of the flames. Away from the gunfire. Away from reality.
His mouth moved when I started to drag him, but no words came out. So much blood. There was so much blood. Danny smiled at me, his hand clutching mine, until it dropped.
“Please look at me. Danny. Please.”
He stared back, his eyes dull and lifeless, and I knew.
“No, Danny. No.”
Remy was there, grabbing Danny’s feet, and we lifted him from the carnage without saying a word. Danny’s lifeless body hung between us, blood pouring from a cut on the side of his neck.
We laid out on the ground, using the charred remains of the chopper as shelter from any attack.
Danny didn’t move.
He didn’t breathe.
He didn’t blink.
“Danny,” I cried out in grief, my voice nothing more than a broken whisper, a prayer of his name.
The medic shoved at me, trying to get to him, but I refused to let go. I refused to leave his side. I couldn’t leave him. I’d never leave him behind.
The unmistakable sound of incoming combatants filled the air. Screams, gunfire in the distance, and bombs exploding caused everyone to move.
Danny was gone, taken by a war he’d followed me into.
With the taste of death and metal in my mouth, I grabbed the rifle I didn’t remember slinging over my shoulder. Ringing in my ears was the only indication that I’d pulled the trigger. I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t feel anything anymore. And as the bodies of our enemies dropped, all I saw was the smile on my brother’s face as he died in my arms.
I scream, ready to go to war with my rage, but I’m not in the desert anymore. The white walls of my living room surround me, and I stare at the ceiling, wondering how I got out of the desert. Wanting to know why I’m not covered in my brother’s blood. Trying to figure out how I can still feel the sand under my nails if I’m sitting in Maine.
“You’re home,” I tell myself. “You’re home, and you’re alive.”
Saying it doesn’t make it real, though, and I force my eyes to stay open until they are so dry I think they’ll fall out of my skull. If I close my eyes, I’ll be back in the desert again. I’ll be there, with Danny’s body behind me. I’ll be there, trying to die so I don’t have to tell my mother that Danny died. I clutch the dog tag I still wear around my neck, but it is the small ring on the chain next to it that I need. The one Kennedy sent during my first week overseas, the promise she gave me that we’d have forever to figure us out. The reason I made it home.
Kennedy.
Sweat dots my brow, and tears streak down my cheeks when I finally come back to myself. When reality finally beats back the terror and trauma from being overseas. Rolling to the side, I clamber for the bathroom and barely make it before I throw up everything I’ve eaten and then continue to retch until there is nothing left. Once I finish, I flush the toilet and lean my head against the wall behind me.
“Fuck my life.”
I would rather die a thousand deaths than drag Kennedy into the hell that has become my life. No matter how much I crave her touch or the fact that my heart stutters every single time I see her smile. I came back from overseas beyond damaged. Broken.
I may love her more than my next breath, but Kennedy should never be mine.