Sound of Silence(3)

A vow I had no right to make.

A promise broken.

A life lost.

I blink against her animosity and accept the accusation. I can't speak as to what happened. Putting a voice to it will bring it to life, and I won't have her carry the details of that burden. It belongs solely to me.

"Why are you here?" she asks again.

I shrug. "Felt like the only place I should be." My gaze has been on hers, but it flicks to her swollen stomach.

Piper wraps her arms under the baby, holding him up and blowing out a breath at the same time. "I don't need you, Caden Lawless. We're doing just fine on our own."

I'd like to disagree but the house does it for me. And if I'm anything other than an asshole, I am a fixer. In the field, my need manifests in me by putting the guys back together, stabilizing for the tougher legwork that happens in the hospital. It's not much different here. Twenty miles from New Castle, Colorado, I ran into a guy who'd flipped his truck and severed four fingers. I stopped the bleeding, found the lost digits, and got him and them in a medivac I called in.

Fight and fix all in the name of God, the United States of America, and to save Justin. It seemed like the only way after he ran in to some tough times post high school. And for a while we were on top of the world, elite fighting machines with a purpose. It just happened that the last mission didn't have a clean break.

"Close the door, Piper. Temperature drops fast around here. You'll catch your death, and I've seen enough of it to last a lifetime."

She leaves it ajar, gripping the edge until her knuckles whiten under the strain. "Thank you, but no. My house, remember? So turn your ass around and get back in that deathtrap of yours. I hear your sister has an open room. Enjoy the fresh linen."

"My life, remember?" I mock and enjoy the new bout of rage that rolls off her. "I like it here. The cabin may look like shit, but it smells amazing. What're you cooking?"

She raises a brow and angles the door open wider with a nod in its direction, implying I should use it.

"Close it, woman. And tell me what's for dinner." I use the tone that has men pull their rifles, but she just stares me down. Something tells me she gets her way. The refined elegance of her posture speaks to an upbringing far greater than the dregs of small-time, small-town Oregon, and I don't suppose her approach fails to do her bidding when she asserts herself. Piper may be small, but she's fierce. The sly tilt of her head and the way she looks down her nose could be intimidating for some. Not to me.

I sigh and face her with hands on my hips, staring into eyes of black magic. "I've had a long day, a longer month, and to date, the worst year of my life. Something we have in common. I don't want to fight. I want to eat and then sleep for as long as my brain will stay still. Can we do that, or should we hash some shit out before morning comes?"

"You're not listening. I don't want to talk. I don't want you here. Not today or tomorrow or next year. I'm not even really mad at you in particular; I'm pissed at the universe for a long list of reasons that can't be voiced in ten minutes. Cute dog, though-he can stay if you're looking to pawn him off."




       
         
       
        
"Not a chance," I say, peeking at the pup who's keeping my sanity intact. He settles by her feet, a guard in the making. "Gus is my responsibility, as are you."

She heaves out a breath and slams the fragile door. I expect the dull thud is a prelude to a fiercer attack by the little sprite, with her finger drawn like a weapon. "Let's get something straight, Caden Lawless. I am no one's responsibility, especially yours. Now get the fuck out of my house."

The smile that breaks on my face is easy, surprising me, and if her wide eyes are an indication, it appears to catch her off-guard as well. "Sunshine, you keep calling me by my full name and I'm going to get a god complex. Like Jesus Christ, I change lives, but it's just Caden. Or sir, if you're so inclined. Now about dinner?"

Her mouth tugs at the corner in the first hint of a grin I've seen, but it falls before materializing. She stands frozen for a moment before bursting past me to a makeshift kitchen island big enough that it juts into the living room. "What's for dinner? I'll give you food, you towering mountain of stubborn man. Here." Piper grabs a bowl, tucking it under her arm and snatching a fist full of ammunition.

The first muffin catches me off-guard, and is a direct hit to my chest. I duck as the next whizzes so close to my cheek it stirs up air in a rush. Good arm. I catch number three and take a bite. Apple cinnamon. It's fucking delicious, and such a waste to have them land in a heap on the cracked floor. Gus rasps out a bark and scurries after what's become a convenient snack, but I have no time to stop him from indulging as Piper grunts through another throw.