Treading Water (Forgotten Soldier Book 2) Read online

  Like all his stupid thoughts, Sean had no clue where this one came from. First, it wasn’t true. Shane and the physical therapist had helped him realize that he could protect himself. His instincts were still there, as was all that upper body strength they kept telling him to use, so it just came down to adapting—a word he had come to hate with every fiber of his being. Second, it was unforgivable to put this totally unfounded fear on Esme. He knew she would never do such a horrible thing to him, even if he was being a dick.

  “I’m searching for buried treasure and can’t do it alone.” The answer was ridiculous, as was the way she looked between him and the chair as if she could will him to move. “Are you going to help me or not?”

  Feeling guilty for his thoughts, he mumbled and grumbled, but did as requested even though he had no idea why she was bothering with his sorry ass. “Do you know what the definition of insanity is? It’s asking the guy in the wheelchair to help you do anything and him agreeing even though he’s useless.”

  With a grunt, he landed in the chair and took a moment to let his body settle. Before he could take a deep breath and get himself centered, she was stomping around him. “You’re an asshole.”

  Sean gaped at the harsh insult—not because it wasn’t true, but because he couldn’t believe she said it—and realized she was making a beeline for the side gate. Was she really giving up that easily? “Does that mean you don’t need me?”

  “You’re not getting off that easy, Sean Murphy,” she warned with a glare over her shoulder. “Now move it or we’ll be late.”

  “Late?” He followed, pumping his arms to catch up to her angry gait. When she continued around the side of the house, across the covered porch, and down the front walk, he was thoroughly confused. “Where are we going?”

  “This way.” Which told him nothing until she turned right onto the sidewalk, leaving him staring after her in shock.

  “Toward Duval? Are you out of your mind?” The B&B was only a couple of blocks from the main tourist strip. Lined with shops, restaurants, and bars—the party rarely stopped on Duval and he used to love the fun, eclectic vibe of the area. Keywords: used to.

  Julian and Shane had asked him repeatedly to go with them, but he refused every time. They needed time without him, at least that’s what he was telling himself. That it wasn’t totally a lie made it easy to say and he loved watching their relationship grow, especially knowing he brought them together. But that wasn’t why he wouldn’t go to Duval or any of the other places he used to love.

  The island was one big tourist area and that meant crowds imbibing on fruity cocktails and enjoying the diversity that Key West was known for. Entranced by the sights and sounds, he would be a stumbling block on the path of their good time. With the way his luck was going, he’d collide with some dickwad who wanted to get in his face and then what? He had better things to do than put his new self-defense skills to the test, especially when other people might be counting on him to have their back.

  Like Esme. Maybe he could protect himself, but how could he protect her too? No, no, they should stay home. It was safer there.

  “Are you coming?” Esme sounded far away and when he looked up, he found her already at the corner and she didn’t look like she was stopping. Logically, he knew she lived on the island most of her life and had no fear of going anywhere, anytime. If he turned back toward the house, she’d be just fine on her own. Mad, but fine. So, why was he pushing himself down the uneven sidewalk? ‘Cause, crazy.

  When he pulled even with her, she smiled in welcome. It should have been smug, but it wasn’t and he still didn’t get why. Didn’t ask either. He was committed to this reckless adventure and already knew she wasn’t going to enlighten him. All he could do was put on his game face and be vigilant of those around him. That would take his entire focus and he would have to trust that she knew what they were doing.

  The next corner was Duval and when she paused to look around, Sean had a short-lived burst of hope that she would see why this was a bad idea. A minute later, she crushed his dreams by pointing to the left. “What we’re looking for is that way. After we find it, I’ll let you buy me lunch at Half Shell’s.”

  “That’s very generous of you.” Sean savored ever drip of sarcasm that fell from his tongue and didn’t even consider pointing out that her restaurant of choice was a good seven blocks away. “And if we don’t find it?”

  Esme squared her shoulders and shook her head. “That isn’t an option. We’ll find it, then we’ll eat, and everything will be right again. Trust me?”

  Trust her? She was talking out her ass and he was supposed to trust her? “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

  “Praise like that could really go to a girl’s head.” Hand over her heart, she sighed dramatically. “I am truly blown away by your confidence.”

  How could he not laugh? “You’re not right in the head, are you, sweetheart?”

  Smile so bright it could rival the sun, she shoveled his shit right back. “Obviously not or I wouldn’t be here with you.”

  Was it possible to fall in love with a person’s sarcasm? Or had he reached that saccharine sweet level of infatuation where it seemed like everything she did was wonderful, no matter how deranged? Either way, falling harder was out of the question. “Are we going to stand on this corner all day while you take pot shots at me or what?”

  “As much fun as that sounds….” Esme took off without waiting, again, and Sean was left to catch up. Thankfully, the sidewalks weren’t overly crowded yet and he was able to keep pace beside her. It was kind of nice now that he was doing it, but he wasn’t completely sold on the idea. This early on a Wednesday, the odds were in their favor. In a couple of hours—like right around that lunch she was angling for—it would be a stretch. By the weekend, it would be impossible. “Turn left under the arch.”

  Sean went along, grateful and annoyed when she put herself in the path of oncoming foot traffic to clear the way for him. Julian and Shane did it wherever they went, even Micah and Garrison had run interference the couple of times they chauffeured him to PT, and he never got annoyed with them. Maybe it sounded chauvinistic, but he wanted to be the one who opened her door and pulled out her chair and shielded her from harm. Not because he didn’t think she couldn’t do those things for herself, but because he never took the chance before and now it was gone forever.

  “Sean!” Startled to realize she was no longer with him, he wrangled the chair around and found her standing two storefronts back with her hands on her hips. “You passed it.”

  Stuck in the familiar cycle of being annoyed about being annoyed, he peered up at the sign and couldn’t hold back his scowl. “What the fuck? That’s a barber shop! What are you hoping to find in there?”

  When he stopped in front of her, she put her hands on the arms of the chair and leaned down until their faces were close. “I’m hoping to find you. Beneath all this…this scruffy armor is the man I might be in love with and I’m really mad at you for holding him hostage.”

  “Esme, sweetheart…” Leveled, he could barely get the words out. How could he deny that request?

  “No, I’m not ready for you to tell me why it wouldn’t be a good idea.” That stubbornness was attractive, but as close as they were, Sean couldn’t miss the emotion brimming below the surface. They were compatible on so many levels, but their ability to hide behind sarcasm wasn’t among the more positive ones. “Do this for me and then I’ll hear anything you have to say.”

  He must have nodded because the next thing Sean knew, he was being ushered inside and introduced to the barber who was obviously waiting for them. Mel was well into his sixties with weathered features, a firm handshake, and knowing eyes. Introductions done, Mel stepped back and looked him over, humming thoughtfully. “You gonna let me chop it all off?”

  Before Sean could answer, Esme cleared her throat meaningfully and Mel snorted out a knowing laugh. Whatever. He wasn’t doing this for himself anyway. “Do your worst.”<
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  Probably not the wisest thing he ever said, but he was already over this whole experience. Mel directed him to the last station which didn’t have a hydraulic chair and Sean winced when he saw that the mirror stretched above and below the small shelf holding the barber’s tools. The one in the bathroom was over the sink, so he never saw the full picture he was presenting. Slumped as he was with his shoulders hunched in, he looked small and vulnerable, beaten and afraid.

  Stunned, he could only watch as Mel secured an extra-long black cape around his neck so that it protected him and his chair at the same time. The effect was staggering. With the chair hidden from view, he should have been able to envision himself differently. The problem was, the head he was trying to imagine on his old body didn’t look like anyone he wanted to be.

  Struggling for the smallest glimpse of his former self, he realized the man in the mirror was more than a stranger— he wasn’t Sean Murphy.

  “Ready?” Mel asked as he slipped a guard over the clipper blades and came to stand beside him.

  Was he? Suddenly, the answer was yes. The word got stuck behind tears he didn’t even know were falling, but Mel wasn’t waiting for his agreement anyway. If he was going for maximum shock, cutting a wide swath down the center of Sean’s head sent a strong message. No turning back now. And as another lock fluttered to the floor, it was all Sean could do not to grab the clippers and finish the job himself. “You got a straight razor?”

  “And a hot towel to go with it,” Mel agreed without missing a beat.

  Those were the only words they spoke for the next half hour. With Esme standing guard—her smiling growing along with the pile of hair—Mel snipped, scraped, and soothed until, with one final pass of the promised hot towel, Sean opened his eyes to a familiar face. The vision was like a nice visit from an old friend that he was so grateful to see again…if only to say goodbye.

  “What’s wrong?” Esme stepped forward, smiling faltering for the first time since they started this journey.

  “Wait.” Sean brushed aside Mel’s hands and reached for the snaps of the cape so he could toss it aside. The volumes of fabric almost ruined the unveiling, but he finally had the full visual. There were a couple of things he couldn’t change, but he didn’t have to look so beaten when he wasn’t. Hands on the arms of the chair, he repositioned himself, changed his posture, and lifted his head high.

  “There you are.” The soft whisper echoed his thoughts exactly and when Esme stepped forward again, he didn’t stop her. When she put her hands on the chair, he didn’t get annoyed. And when she leaned in close to brush a soft kiss on his mouth, he welcomed her eagerly. Hands cupping her face, he held her still and did what he’d been wanting to do since the day they met.

  “Aren’t I supposed to be telling you why we wouldn’t be a good idea?” He couldn’t resist teasing between kisses.

  “I’d really rather hear you say that we’re going to figure this out.” That sounded like the best plan he’d heard in a long time and he tugged her forward, eager for another taste. Eyes closed, lips leading the way, Sean jumped when she tumbled into his lap and his arms went around her immediately as she scrambled for purchase. “I’m so sorry, I tripped over your foot. Did I hurt you?”

  “Yes.” And it was the most glorious pain he’d ever felt. With a deep breath, he tightened the muscles in his arms and stomach, then hauled her up until she was properly seated. She wasn’t heavy, but without the leverage of his legs, he had to utilize his upper body strength to the fullest. Just like everyone had been telling him for months. If they were right about that, maybe they were right about other things.

  “Sean, let me up so I can make sure you’re okay.” Esme pushed against him, but he held firm and tried to remember what the doctors had been trying to drill into his head.

  Beyond words like adapting and accepting was the truth that every case was different and the only control he had was how he handled the result. He knew he was lucky, had witnessed it first hand at the naval hospital. What a fool he had been to waste so much time dwelling on the one thing he couldn’t do. So, he wouldn’t walk. He was alive and healthy, and perfectly capable of feeling the sweet weight of a beautiful woman in his lap. That wasn’t in his head, he hadn’t been expecting it and wasn’t prepared for the first brush or the final crash. In fact, his left leg was still smarting a bit.

  Sean didn’t know what he did to deserve the two men who stood by him when he was being the biggest jerk on the planet or the love of a stubborn woman who refused to let him wallow away. Gratitude was only the beginning of what he owed them and if he spent the rest of his life proving that he was worthy of all the effort they put into his life, it wouldn’t be long enough.

  “Thank you for finding me,” Sean whispered, hoping his tone conveyed all the feeling behind the simple words.

  Esme reared back in shock and stared at him. Instead of squirming, Sean prayed that she could see his intentions and nearly wept with relief when she threw herself back in his arms. “Damn you for making me cry in public!”

  Sean grinned at the muffled sob and met Mel’s knowing gaze in the mirror. The old man shuffled off toward the front of the shop, leaving them to weather the storm together. And if his unused legs hurt from the exertion, well, that would make it all the sweeter.

  “Esme?” Sean whispered a few minutes later. He took the watery sound as acknowledgement and asked, “Wanna help me build a boat?”

  “Asshole.” The quiet wail was just as good as any declaration of love he’d ever heard.

  Paying It Forward

  Epilogue

  May 20, 2017 – Jared

  “You sure this is okay?” Jared looked at the young man in the passenger’s seat and offered him a reassuring smile. Word of the foundation had spread like wildfire and the requests piled in every day, each more heartbreaking than the last. Some days it felt like they’d been at it forever, other days they wondered if they were doing enough, and then there was today. “They’re expecting us, right?”

  “They are definitely expecting us.” It wasn’t the first time Nathan Walker asked those questions in the last four hours and Jared knew there were no words that would convince him it would be okay. At twenty-three, the former infantryman had seen too much not to be cautious and he had the battle scars to prove it. In Jared’s opinion, when you were forced to leave limbs behind, you had the right to be wary.

  Nathan nodded and Jared glanced in the rearview mirror. Aiden met his gaze and gave a reassuring nod. They couldn’t let Nathan’s nerves stop them from doing the right thing for him. Unlike the men they were coming to see, Nathan had a family that helped him through every step of his physical recovery. Unfortunately, they had no idea what to do with his PTSD and their need to believe he was getting better made it easier for him to lie to them. Right up until he tried to kill himself.

  When his mother called, frantic and ashamed, Jared knew they had to step up. It was Aiden who suggested taking him to Key West and Jared thought it was a perfect idea. Nathan needed a safe place to work through the trauma with people who understood. Not only would he be able to get more individualized professional help, he would have a support system that knew what to do and a haven in which to grow. Even if he only ever learned to function within the confines of a four-mile stretch of paradise, it was better than never functioning at all.

  “The Sandy Feet Inn?” Nathan whispered doubtfully as he leaned forward to peer out the windshield when Jared turned into the unpaved lot. “This doesn’t look like any facility I’ve ever seen.”

  “It’s definitely not a facility,” Aiden huffed, barely managing to keep the derision out of his voice.

  Nathan reared back, panic written all over his face. “Mom said you were taking me some place where I couldn’t hurt myself.”

  Jared wanted to groan. He understood the well-meaning intentions behind the lie, but that was an impossible promise. The only way to make sure Nathan didn’t hurt himself was to make his brain
a safe place again and all anyone could do was help him get there, they couldn’t do it for him.

  “Who’s that?” Instead of fear, the question was curious and Jared followed his gaze to see Sean Murphy—former frogman and soon to be first time father—ride his new tricked out electric scooter onto the front porch and wave. As always, Shane and Julian were right behind him, but Nathan’s attention had stopped at someone he thought he could relate to. “What happened to him?”

  “Would you believe he got crushed by a storage container on the deck of an aircraft carrier?”

  Nathan swung a disbelieving look his way and shook his head. “No fucking way. That’s the guy?”

  “Yeah, you want to meet him? Cause he’s been waiting all day for you to show up.” Nathan was fumbling with his seat belt before Jared finished speaking and when he stepped out of the car, his prosthetic sinking ever so slightly in the sand, Jared knew they made the right decision.

  “You guys are coming in, right?” Nathan stuck his head back in the car and Jared could see the excitement brewing beneath the normal wariness.

  “Definitely.” From the backseat, he felt Aiden touch his shoulder briefly in support and Jared let that quiet strength seep into his pores. He helped a lot of people since retiring from the service, but this was the first time he could see it being paid forward.

  It was exactly the legacy he wanted to leave.

  About the Charity

  10% of all royalties earned from Treading Water will be donated to the Gary Sinise Foundation. If you enjoyed the book, please help me spread the word by leaving a review on the retailer’s website.

  About Jessie G

  I am a firm believer in marriage equality, love at first sight, power dynamics, and happily ever after. I'm a lover of strong secondary characters and series filled with families—biological or chosen. All are themes you'll find throughout my books.