You're Not Broken(28)
Chapter Twelve
Jason leaned his head against the door. He could hear Kat’s steps fading into the distance outside.
You fucking moron.
How could he have kissed her? Because you’re a goddamn moron.
Jason closed his eyes and sighed.
He was. He was a Grade A moron.
He shouldn’t have kissed her. He knew that. But no power in the universe could’ve stopped him in that moment.
Kat. His beautiful Kat. He had carried her memory through hell and high water. He had remembered those sweet almond eyes through scorching hot desert rides. He had remembered her soft sweet lips and her warm smile through fierce and bloody battles. He had remembered her satiny skin and her shining hair through every chilly night, sweat inducing nightmare, and every horrible, lonely day of his deployment.
And then seeing her in the flesh. Holding her so tightly against him. Seeing those clear and open eyes look up at him.
He knew he had to have her. He had to taste that sweetness. He had to hold that softness.
Her body seemed meant for him. Every curve fit perfectly against him. He had barely been able to restrain himself once his lips had met hers.
But thank god he had.
It had killed him to tell her that their kiss had been a mistake. That kiss had been the culmination of two years of waiting and dreaming. But Jason knew what the right thing to do was.
And that was to tell her the kiss had been a mistake.
He had immediately seen the pain in her eyes. He had seen her body shrink away from his, wounded and confused. God, if she only knew how much he wanted her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and lose himself in her. He wanted to feel himself sink deep into her warmth and to never let go.
Jason shook his head as he headed back to his bedroom.
But that wasn’t possible anymore. He still remembered the first day out of Iraq.
He had been taken to a base in Germany to receive treatment for a leg injury and concussion he had received on his truck ride on the way out. A little parting gift from the terrorists for his last day.
He had woken up confused and angry. Nightmares had been floating through his head the entire journey. Bloody comrades, dead friends, hidden insurgents, IEDs.
As soon as his eyes had opened, his body was tensed for action. He felt a surge of adrenaline as soon as he realized he had no weapons. He immediately tried to assess the surrounding area, despite a splitting headache and double vision.
A hand had gently touched his shoulder out of nowhere and Jason had immediately sprung into action. He had shot up, completely disregarding his injured leg and had thrown the hand off his shoulders and reached out, gripping the attacker by his throat, slamming him against a wall.
It had taken five male attendants to push Jason back onto the bed. By then, his vision had cleared and his senses had returned to him. He had just enough time to see a nurse crying and clutching her neck before she was ushered away by a doctor.
Jason felt guilt wrack his body before a nurse gave him a tranquilizer.
And that had been the start of it.
He had always had nightmares. He had seen too much death. He had been apart of too much death. And it followed him wherever he went.
He had sleepwalked and even sleepfought because of his nightmares. His old friend Al had that faded scar running down the side of right temple where Jason had punched him in his sleep, mistaking the old man for an insurgent.
Jason was tainted.
He knew it.
He was death incarnate.
As a sniper for the Special Forces, he had personally shaken hands with death on more occasions than he cared to count. And that had permanently altered who he was.
Through it all, he had carried the memory of that one brave girl who had taken a chance on an unknown soldier. He remembered her sweet smile and her loving words. He remembered the warmth he had felt as their two hearts had connected.
But now, he also knew, she would be no more than a memory.
There was no way he would taint her with his dangerous darkness. Of all people, she was the last person he wanted to see again. He had no control over his nightmares. Sometimes they even came during the day, when he was awake.
No, he would never endanger Kat Ryans with his demons.
He would stay far the fuck away and keep her in his memories to warm his heart when he felt the chilly of dark loneliness.
That was until she barged into Reggie’s that night in Fayetteville.
Of all the places he could’ve seen her, that was the absolute last place he expected to see Kat.
Two years later and she looked just as good as he remembered. But even still, he could see her thinner cheeks and the dark smudges around her eyes that spoke of sleepless nights.
He had known even two years ago that Kat was clearly the glue of her family. Although Uncle Doughy was the undisputed leader, Kat was what made them an actual family. He had seen her tireless love spilling out of her that day at the diner.