Chapter 18 Jett
Chapter Eighteen
JETT
We’d been dancing around each other for a couple of weeks.
Heated glances, simple touches, more time spent in her and Griffin’s presence.
Things had changed since she saw me at my most vulnerable, the night I’d definitely planned to never let her see. I’d been hiding not only from myself but from those I cared about.
I’d never imagined she would hear the horror I lived with every day, the nights even worse, but she had. And it had been a turning point. Did it mean it was easy, or that all the shit in my head about not being enough had disappeared?
No.
What it had been was an eye-opener. First, because when I had really opened my eyes, Patience had still been there, no pity in her eyes, just support and understanding. But also, because she’d been barely wearing anything, and her body was to die for, leaving images burned in my brain forever.
She showed me that even in one of my worst moments, I could still be loved. Patience may not have said she loved me that night, but I felt it, and while I also didn’t say the words, I returned the feeling.
I’d also managed to get a few hours of peaceful sleep, because I’d been in her arms. It felt like forever since I had a good night's sleep.
The nightmares were back with her not around, and I almost begged her to let me lay next to her at night to see if it would calm the horror that I relived when I closed my eyes.
I couldn’t ask that, though, not with Griffin in the house too. Besides, if that was a one-time thing and I lost it while she was right beside me, I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I ever hurt her—even if I hadn’t meant to.
It was time to work on myself so that we could work on us.
Trying to do just that, I’d spoken with Gyth, knowing he’d gone through some stuff himself, and already had one session with someone at a VA medical center close by.
It had been brutal, a real bitch opening up, and my wounds were wide open. If they were physical, I could handle it, but this mental stuff had me feeling so exposed. It had only lasted an hour, and we hadn’t even scratched the surface, yet I’d walked out exhausted.
There was a lot of work ahead to clean up the fucked-up shit in my head, but I had the best reasons to do it. I just hoped it was all still possible.
Doubt still lived inside of me, like the guilt I felt for the loss of my friends.
My therapist had asked me to think about ways to channel the anger, the guilt, and to find an outlet to release those feelings.
I knew how I had always done it before, but I’d stopped and denied myself something I loved because the idea of being happy felt like I was dishonoring the men that were lost.
Though, after hearing Patience’s heavenly voice—on a song she’d written for me nonetheless—I’d felt the draw to music again. I craved the process of making something of my own and collaborating with Patience too.
However, I didn’t crave anything the way I did Patience. The image of her standing in her short shorts and tight tank top with her breasts pressed against the fabric begging to be touched, the way she kissed and moaned into my mouth as her scent wrapped around me—that was what I’d call addiction.
And she was mine.
Blowing out a breath, I realized I might also need an outlet to calm the fire burning inside of me for my wife.
It would have been easy to get lost in Patience that night, a welcome distraction to take me away from my thoughts.
Her touch, her heart, and her body could soothe my battered soul, but I’d meant what I said about her deserving more.
She needed to be courted, even if I wasn’t sure exactly what that looked like.
If I got stuck, I knew there were plenty of men and women around who’d gladly help.
Dating was not something I’d done; sex as I told Patience, had been nonexistent in my life because my wife was the only one I wanted to be with.
I was getting my chance—something I needed to make sure I didn’t fuck up.
There was a lot to think about and work through. I also still had to decide about the job offer the guys had presented me with. I was going to talk to Gramps while I was there at the house. He always knew exactly what to say.
With my whole setup waiting for me in his garage—my music outlet—I grabbed my phone and keys off the counter, heading for the door just as my cell rang. Without looking at the screen, I put it to my ear and answered.
“Hello.”
There was some rustling on the other end, and then, “Hey you.” Dusty’s voice came through the line, and I froze with my hand on the knob.
Did she sound upset? That wasn’t usually her style, even when I knew she was struggling. Somehow, she always seemed to be more put together than me, even after everything she’d gone through.
Fuck, maybe I’d let her joke her way through the pain. Worry rushed through me. We’d been keeping in contact, but I probably hadn’t done as great a job as I should have since it had been at least three weeks since we spoke. More guilt attacked me, fucking with my mind.
“Everything okay, D?”
A huge sigh came through the line before she answered. “Yeah. No. Maybe.” She let out a manic laugh. “I don’t know how to do this life anymore, Jett.”
Fear gripped me. I’d never heard her so deflated and scared—not even when we were stuck in hell and she thought she was going to die.
I let go of the knob and began to pace as I tried to find the right words.
I was sure that I wasn’t the right person to help her when I was so screwed up myself, but I had to try.
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to keep my voice soft. It was a huge difference from when I’d been commanding her to fight back in that room because there was no way I could handle losing her too.
Silence greeted me, and my anxiety spiked. “Baker, talk to me.” This time I practically snapped it out like an order. It worked too.
“I’m not a farmer. I left to get away from that life and this small town.” She blew out a breath. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my parents; they are the cream of the crop type of people.” Now she chuckled at her joke. “But they hover, and I needed to find my own way. I thought I had, but then…”
She let that hang in the air. I didn’t need her to finish to know what the then was; we’d both lived through it—barely.
“Listen.” I gulped; a ball of worry stuck in my throat. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t stop—”
“Don’t you dare!” And right there was the badass Dusty I knew.
If I was in her presence and not holding the phone, I’d throw my hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay.”
“That’s better. I don’t blame you,” she said, but I still couldn’t help but blame myself, and she knew it. “You will believe me one day. I guess I just needed to hear your sparkling voice and wallow in my pity party for a moment.”
“D, I’m here anytime you need to talk,” I told her just as an idea started to form in my head. “Wait, why don’t you come for a visit and meet Patience and my family?”
Dusty had been shot in the leg along with breaking her ankle, both on the same side. Infection had set in, making her stick, and it scared the daylights out of me. Saving her leg had been a miracle, as was the fact she’d made it out alive.
“W-what?” She sounded perplexed that I would even ask.
I ran my free hand down my face, trying to scrub away the irritation I had felt with myself. She shouldn’t question why I’d offer such a thing when we were friends.
“Patience would love to meet you,” I let her know.
They’d briefly seen each other on FaceTime once but had definitely heard of one another. Shit, I’d forgotten Patience had seen all my friends at one point. I hated to think that their faces lingered in her mind at all like they did in mine, knowing they were gone.
“I’d like to meet her too.”
A true smile lifted the corner of my lips. I knew the two of them would enjoy each other. In fact, all my family and friends would adore Dusty.
“There is a whole shitload of women and men here, along with a ton of kids that would like to see you.” It was a good plan. “So when are you coming?”
“Well, I can’t drive yet. Not that far, it’s still too hard.” Her tone was deflated some but then perked up. “Let me check flights and get back to you, okay?”
I started walking to the door again. “You bet. You’re welcome any time, D. Just let me know what works for you. It will be amazing to see you.”
“Are you sure?” she asked but chuckled. “I can hear that damn guilt in your tone, Jett. Get rid of it before I come, or else. I’ll be in touch.” Then before I could respond, she hung up.
She was a tough one. While she was upset at the start, she had bounced back some. I knew when she came that everyone would take to her right away. Gyth would understand the most; maybe he’d talk to her?
Dusty was right, though, I wasn’t sure the guilt would disappear as fast as she had demanded. But I’d start trying.
So, with that, I walked out and headed to make music.
The music settled deep and freed my soul.
After talking with Gramps, I had a clearer picture of what I wanted to do, and then spending time with my guitar while belting out lyrics helped even further.
When I was younger, I thought all I wanted to do was be a rockstar, go on the road, and jam.
Then my sister, Ruby, met Lyric—crazy how fitting that name was for him and how well it resonated with me—and once I got to know him, as well as the other men of No Surrender who’d all served in the military, my view on life changed.
At eighteen, I looked up to them so much, and I knew soon after they came into my life that I wanted to serve as they had. Shortly after enlisting and leaving, I realized a few things.
One, I wasn’t a lifer and wanted to eventually work with the guys, something they were offering now.
Two, I missed Patience and Griffin, along with my family, and the need to be with them was strong.
And third, I would always have music but it was a hobby and passion that made me feel good, it wasn’t the career I wanted.
The capture made me feel like I couldn’t have any of the things I wanted. Losing my buddies, and Dusty being hurt had crushed me into believing I didn’t deserve anything. And then Patience was there when I needed her most, still my friend, wanting me to be her husband, and hope sparked.
I belted out the lyrics to a song she and I wrote long ago and let myself believe.
I’d been so wrapped up in the music, I hadn’t heard my phone ring. Gramps came into the garage, and with just one look at his face, I knew something was not right. Dread lodged in the pit of my stomach, and I stopped playing as he approached.
“Patience is trying to reach you. She said she called a couple of times, but you haven’t answered.” He didn’t sound accusing, just worried. Gramps knew I’d needed time with my music but fuck if my wife didn’t come first.
“What’s happening?”
It was Friday, and she was set to be off work soon. Normally I’d grab Griffin, but Ruby had picked him and Autumn up from school to go hang out with some of the other kids. Did something happen to her or the kids?
“She’s okay. Nobody’s hurt.” He let out a gruff huff. “The paternity test came back. We all knew what it would say since our girl told us, but the family is pushing for a court date as soon as possible.”
A growl erupted from deep inside me.
“I feel the same way,” Gramps said. “But I know you, Landon, and everyone will do whatever they can so that dirtbag doesn’t see a day with our boy.”
I admired Gramps, but his next words really took my admiration to a whole new level.
“If they try any crap or come around here, they’ll find out what a good shot I am.” He gave me a no-bullshit look, and I had to choke back a chuckle. “And they have you at the condos. Now you should probably call your wife.”
When we got married, a marriage set up for her and Griffin’s sake, I’d thrown the word around without feeling. I wasn’t about to let myself think it was real. Over the last few weeks, the word wife had taken on its true meaning.
Hearing Gramps saying it solidified it even more.
I snatched up my phone and headed for the door. “I’ll call her from the car; I need to get to her.”
As I walked by Gramps, he patted me on the back. “Proud of you, son.”
Stopping in my tracks, I turned back toward him, closed the distance, and pulled him into a hug. Fuck, his words meant so much to me.
“I wouldn’t be where I am without you,” I mumbled. Then I pulled away before I got too emotional.
Keep it together.
My wife needed me to be clear-headed.