Chapter Nine

Tanner woke with a stifled cry, panting, and sweating profusely. After sitting up, he scanned the room, allowing his eyes to adjust for a second before realizing that the horrific scene he had witnessed lived only in his memories. Scrubbing his face, he sought to shove the demons from his mind, only to have them claw deeper, refusing to budge. Images of a long-ago battle flashed through his mind, the exploding shells and rat-a-tat of bullets from both sides clear, with piercing screams and yells of the injured and dying.

“Shit.” He slipped out of bed and walked into the bathroom, flicking on the light. Splashing water from the sink on his face, he appraised himself in the mirror. “Why?” For the hundredth time he asked himself that question. Why didn’t I choose differently? Why didn’t I follow my gut instincts?

His team of Marines had tromped toward their set destination, a position determined by his commanders as valuable in the continuing war on terror. Because he had been the immediate team leader, he’d voiced those commands, pushing his men through an area they had no business being in. His gut had clamored the entire time in warning. Instead of thinking for himself and listening to the subtle premonition, he’d stayed true to his task, following strict orders that had led his team into an ambush, where several of his men had been killed. They were orders he should by all means have disregarded.

He stepped back into his bedroom, strode to the dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out a curio box. Inside, several awards and medals sparkled in the same perfect condition as the day they were minted. A Medal of Honor occupied the eye-catching center position. Fucking ridiculous. He hated it most of all, for all it symbolized. Washington and the military paraded him as a hero, rewarding him with their highest honor while still on active duty with the Marines. The truth lay in the polar opposite. He should have been court-martialed instead of honored. Because of his poor leadership skills, good men had died. Those men had deserved better. Friends. Teammates. Comrades. Fellow Marines. Some had paid the ultimate price for a meaningless patch of land declared invaluable by higher-ups, two thousand miles away. He had screwed up, let his men down. And for that, the lucky ones took shrapnel. The unlucky ones didn’t make it at all.

After walking into the kitchen, he tossed the glass-covered box on the countertop. The fridge light beamed bright in the darkness as he opened the door and pulled out a beer. Lessons from prior nights like this had taught him that sleep wouldn’t come, and the adrenaline rush the nightmares provoked would take a while to subside. Until then, he wrestled with ghosts from his past, struggling to force them back into that far corner of his mind and lock them in tight for fear they would escape again to disturb his sleep and life.

Over the years, he’d tried one thing after another to combat his memories and the issues they caused. Nothing had really worked except pushing himself hard, always on the go and living life to the fullest, before he fell into bed exhausted. Only then did he avoid dreaming. Some of the time. Other times, no matter the fatigue level, something set those memories loose, letting them replay through his mind each day.

Some men drank to escape their ghosts. He refused to go in that direction—the easy way out. Instead, he faced each day as it came, going for broke with the toughest, most dangerous jobs he could lay his hands on. It was the least he could do after his massive blunder. Every villain he wiped out, every life he saved, never came close to replacing those he’d lost. However, it made a small dent in that insurmountable mountain. He took risks others wouldn’t, putting his life on the line time after time. Death waited for him, sooner rather than later. Tanner understood and respected that. Maybe when the time came, he could finally find peace from those demons.

* * * *

Adrenaline rode him hard all morning. He couldn’t shake the revved-up sensation no matter what he did. Cleaning the condo and scrubbing dirty dishes made the place shine but didn’t help his physical state in the least. A difficult martial arts workout zapped some energy and sent sweat dripping over his body but did not bring the inner focus that usually came with the routine. Even a few rounds of computer games failed to ease the turmoil.

Tanner stepped out of the back door, intent on a long run. Since nothing else seemed to work, at least he could wear himself completely out and fall into bed from sheer exhaustion. It was worth a try.

Before he hit the park trail, he caught sight of Hercules wandering near the woods, nose to the ground, searching for the perfect place to do his business. No sooner had the dog relieved himself than he ran over to lean heavily against Tanner’s legs.

“Hey, Herc. You can knock someone over like that.”

The dog peered up at him, smiling with his pink tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. His long, spotted tail thumped from side to side, whipping Tanner’s leg now and again.

Tanner couldn’t resist a small grin as he rubbed the Dane’s ears. For the first time that morning, his tension began to ebb.

“Good morning,” Oakley called, sticking her head out of the back door.

Still petting Hercules, Tanner smiled at her. “Morning. I was just going for a run. Care to join me?”

She studied him for a moment before nodding. Within moments, she strode over and snapped the leash on Hercules’ collar. “If you promise not to run me into the ground, then I’ll gladly go with you.”

He chuckled. “No worries. Since we’re not racing, I suppose one slower workout would be okay.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

They started off toward the park, following the asphalt trail and meandering through trees, woods, and playground equipment as they went.

“Were you always a natural athlete?” Oakley asked.

He glanced over at her, noting the way her feet glided over the ground, sure in each and every step. Her breathing remained steady even as she spoke.

“Yeah. I played football and ran track in high school. Baseball when I was younger.” He found himself opening up to her bit by bit, not in the least defensive with her generalized enquiries most of the time—as if she understood the line he’d drawn and carefully stayed on the lighthearted side—although a time or two she tested the strength of the boundaries. Good thing he recognized her questions for what they were—interest in him as a man. No ulterior motive existed. He’d bet his big screen television on the fact.

And damn if that chaste kiss hadn’t stoked a fire inside him. He both chided himself and congratulated himself on the small sample. Like a craving, he had to have more and soon.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get a scholarship to college.”

He shrugged. “Wasn’t good enough. Besides, I lacked focus.”

She raked him with her gaze. “Not good enough? I don’t believe it. From what I’ve seen, you can do anything you want and then some.”

A smile tugged at his lips. Oakley sure bolstered his ego with her shy glances of appreciation and cute compliments. “I didn’t have the work ethic.”

“Looks like that’s changed.”

He nodded. “I grew up.”

For several strides silence reigned. He recalled her reaction to his staying out all night after the bar scene. Not disgust or a put-down, but she had seemed definitely put off. “Got a gaggle of girlfriends you go out with for ladies’ night?”

She glanced over at him before staring straight ahead once more. For a long moment he didn’t think she’d answer. “No. In all honesty, I’m a homebody.”

The confession rang true. Most people he knew would be bored at home all day, even if they did have work to do. The four walls would soon close in and they would be out on the town searching for entertainment. Not Oakley. From what he’d observed so far, she enjoyed her time alone, showered attention on Hercules, and lived a fairly quiet life. “Not a partying person, huh?”

She shook her head. “Never had any inclination. Sure, I’ve been to a couple of bars in my lifetime but found them more than lacking—meat markets and a place to get drunk. Neither interested me.” She sucked in air. “I never understood why some people like to get drunk. The idea flabbergasts me.”

“Maybe they want to escape from reality for a while.”

“I’m pretty sure when they sober up, their problems still remain—if not a few more, depending upon what they did while intoxicated.”

“Peer pressure deems it’s fun.” He enjoyed bantering with her like this. Taking one side of the debate and playing devil’s advocate.

“I guess I have a different definition of fun. Because throwing up and passing out with no recollection of the night before doesn’t sound like a wonderful time to me.”

He grinned at her staunch attitudes. He agreed with her, although he could speak from experience on this one. That’s one reason he didn’t dare let himself do more than sip a beer. Too many men lost themselves in a bottle and never returned. He refused to go down like that. Nightmares existed both during sleep and waking hours. Alcohol only numbed the body and sometimes let the inhibitions of the mind free.

“Good place to meet people.”

She tilted her head. “I wonder how many people actually meet their future spouse at a bar?”

He chuckled. “More than likely the odds are low.”

Oakley spared him a glance. “That’s what I thought. Meat market all around.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with pairing up with a pretty, hot woman for a night of—”

She cut him off before he could finish. “Spoken like a true man.”

“There are a lot of women who are there looking for the same thing. To scratch an itch.”

They turned for home. “Oh, I’m sure. I’m not man bashing or judging. Just saying I don’t understand it. To each their own.”

He jogged along and processed the glimpse into what made up Oakley. He’d never been around a woman quite like her. Most men and women both lived in the fast lane today, with a few notable exceptions, namely married people with kids—although that didn’t exclude all those in the category. He cringed when he thought of his long absent father. Throw impending fatherhood in the man’s face and he couldn’t run fast enough.

Tanner liked to believe he wouldn’t resemble his father in any way or fashion. He’d worked hard to follow in his mother’s steps and liked to believe that if an accident occurred, he’d step up to the plate like a man. Still, he made damn sure to wear protection and stay away from the clingy women. No sense in tempting fate if he could avoid the whole rigmarole entirely.

Once more his thoughts turned to the woman trotting at his side. An aura of innocence surrounded her, untarnished by the sometimes cruel world. She lived clean and shoveled out kindness in heaps. He commended her, even as she lured him with a golden heart—a rarity in his opinion. She soothed his raging demons and showed him the rays of sunlight. Her body both tempted and drew him like a thirsty man to an oasis.

Yet, he dared not garner more than a quick taste, for Oakley wanted commitment, love, and marriage. He knew the truth to his very bones. All exceptional ideals incompatible in his world.

That didn’t stop the hard-on from hell or make a dent in his heightened libido when Oakley came near. He wanted her. Period. More than he’d ever wanted another woman in his life. Enough to dive in head first and let the rest work itself out. If only she’d give him a chance.

* * * *

After the morning jog, Oakley stopped by her side of the condo to grab a fresh batch of strawberry muffins. With those in hand, she hurried over to Tanner’s door and let herself in.

Something had nagged at her during their exercise, something she couldn’t put her finger on. He seemed much more tense and distracted than she recalled in the past. Perhaps his work called or something had happened with his family. Any number of events could cause such a reaction, but she refused to press him about it. If he wanted to share, he would. Otherwise, she could only hang out in a supportive role.

“Muffins!” she called from just inside the door. “And I didn’t let Hercules eat yours this time.” As if hearing his name, the dog trotted in beside her to immediately make himself at home by lying down on the floor.

“Good thing. I’m hungry.” He walked from his bedroom, having changed from running attire to jeans and a shirt. A few long strides placed him in the kitchen.

She grabbed paper towels and plates after setting the platter of muffins between them. Tanner pulled the milk from the fridge, gathered a couple of glasses then sat down beside her.

He dug in with gusto. “Spoon’s right. These are great.”

Crumbs clung to his lips and chin, reminding her of a young boy really getting into his food. “Thanks.” She took a small bite, watching Tanner devour one after another before taking a gulp of milk.

She gestured toward his clothes. “Plans for today?”

“Somewhat.”

Quickly, she stifled the sigh threatening to escape at his answer. Patience took practice and boy, did she need it. “Need a buddy? You can take Hercules with you.”

He snorted. “He would throw a fit being away from you.”

“Good point. And, if you run errands, he thinks you should stop by and get him a few hamburgers as a treat.”

Tanner looked at the dog sprawled across his living room floor. “More than a few.”

She noticed the last muffin then nudged it toward Tanner. “Might as well eat the last one.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Not saving it for the dog?”

She grinned. “Nope. Last time he ate muffins, the fiber gave him diarrhea.”

Upon reaching out, he snagged the last treat. “Let’s hope I don’t suffer the same thing.”

“I hope not. I would hate for the neighbors to report a half-naked man squatting in the woods every ten minutes. Might be embarrassing and hard to explain to a judge.”

He snorted.

She stood up to clear the table. “If it happens, I’ll donate some of that toilet paper with aloe in it.”

“Gee, thanks.” Tanner followed suit, screwing the cap back on the milk.

“Don’t mention it.” She carried the empty glasses and set them gently in his kitchen sink.

A small, wooden box with a glass lid caught her attention. After stepping over, she plucked it off the kitchen counter to gaze at the many medals and read each inscription. She peered up at Tanner with a sense of amazement and disbelief. “Medal of Honor. They only give this medal to the bravest acts of courage under combat.”

He shrugged, busily stashing the remnants of their meal in the fridge.

“You’re a true hero, Tanner.”

Instantly, his laid-back demeanor changed, replaced with extreme agitation. His arms waved while long strides swept him into the living room. “Some fucking hero.”

Hercules startled, stood up, and headed toward the back door.

Stunned by the animosity in his tone and the surly language, Oakley bit her lip. Watching closely, she took in his rapid breathing, stiff movements, and expression of fury. She saw enough of herself in his actions to recognize some of the issue. Guilt.

“I can see it with everything you do.”

“Then you must be blind.”

Refusing to rise to the bait of his anger, Oakley tried to redirect the conversation. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” A fox trapped by a pack of hounds could have worn the same expression as Tanner. She immediately wished her words back. “Have you seen a counselor?”

He snorted derisively. “A Marine seeing a shrink? Now that’s a laugh a minute.”

“Maybe you could see a psychologist outside the military. One in private practice. I’m sure—”

He cut her off with a wild look, his eyes wide and flashing. “What in the hell do they know?”

She retreated, unsure when faced with such fiery fury. This wasn’t the man she knew these past few days. “I just…”

For a moment, he appeared to relax a fraction. “Don’t set those soft eyes on me, baby. I won’t live long enough to give you what you deserve.”

“What do you mean?” His words lanced her heart, making her gasp. Fear crept in.

“One day, I’ll screw up. Sooner or later.” He took a deep breath. “Don’t get any illusions about me. I live by the sword and I’ll die by the sword.”

With those prophetic words, he stuffed his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans, grabbed his car keys, and stormed out.

Oakley released a long sigh. A few years of therapy had allowed her to read between the lines. Something bad had happened to Tanner, something that he could never forgive himself for. Instead of dealing with the issue, he ran, pushing his luck and life to the fullest in order to escape the memories. She understood and felt all the more saddened. Experience had taught her she couldn’t run from what had happened and she couldn’t change it. All she could do was face her demons, work each day to conquer them, and move forward.

Until Tanner realized those facts for himself and received some help, she truly worried he would push too hard one time and pay the hard consequences of his actions.

With sudden inspiration, she returned to her side of the condo after carefully locking Tanner’s front door behind her. Once there, she dug through her phone number book, finally finding what she needed. One finger punched in familiar numbers. “Hello. Can I speak to Dr Miller, please?”