I’m across the room in a flash as soon as I see Shelby’s legs give out, my arms going around her right before she hits the floor. I should have gone to her sooner, should have held on to her as soon as I walked in the door and heard Georgia telling her how much she hated her.
When I received a phone call from Paul a few hours after Shelby left me, all he said was that I needed to get myself over to the stables immediately. That Shelby was “in her room” and her mother was heading that way.
I knew her mother wanted to talk to her and I knew Shelby was nervous, but I had no idea Georgia would say the things to her that she did. I can’t even imagine how it must feel to have your own mother tell you she never liked you, never wanted you, and was always jealous of you. My parents might not have been around much, weren’t very good at taking care of anyone but themselves, but they never hated us.
My heart breaks for her more than it does for myself. I couldn’t stand the way Shelby’s worried, tear-filled eyes looked at me when her mother admitted to killing my parents. I want her to know I wasn’t shocked, that I’d known all along. My shock only came from Georgia finally admitting the truth, but I don’t have time to do anything more than cradle Shelby in my arms and rock her back and forth as her mother continues.
“I’m sorry, Shelby. You have no idea how sorry I am,” Georgia tells her.
She wraps her arms around her own body to comfort herself, staring at her daughter as she clings to me, pressing her face into my chest.
“I spoke to Landry earlier and told him I was finished playing his games. As soon as we’re finished here, I’m turning myself in to the police for what I did to your parents, Eli.”
Running my hand soothingly down the back of Shelby’s head, she finally pulls her face away from my chest and stares at her mother. The tears are all dried up and she looks at her with absolutely no emotion.
“I think we’re finished here,” Shelby whispers.
Georgia takes a step toward us and lifts her arm to touch Shelby, but quickly thinks better of it, dropping it back down to her side when I tighten my arms around her and Shelby presses her cheek back to my chest.
“I tried. I know it was too late, but I tried,” Georgia tells us again.
I want to ask her what the hell she’s talking about, how she tried to do anything but ruin us, but I don’t want to hear anything else out of her mouth. I don’t want her to say anything else that will crush Shelby.
When Shelby doesn’t say anything to her, Georgia nods, lifting her eyes to mine. When she realizes I’m not going to give her anything either, she finally turns and walks from the room, Shelby and I standing together quietly, watching her go.
We stay like this silently for a long time, Shelby’s arms locked tightly around my waist and me continuing to rock her back and forth gently. After a while, she finally looks up at me, resting her chin on my chest.
“Tell me what you need,” I whisper down to her, hating the sorrow I see etched on her face.
“Just you,” she replies. “And maybe some music. I don’t want to think about anything right now, I just want to dance with you.”
I smile at her, running my hand down the side of her face before I pull away and quickly walk over to the sound system. Powering it up, I set it to a jazz station, walk back to Shelby, and pull her into my arms again. Neither of us says a word as I take her hand and begin to lead her. We dance in silence and I let her feel the music, knowing I’ll stay here and dance with her forever, or at least until the shock wears off and she’s ready to talk.
I should have known the peacefulness of our quiet dancing wouldn’t last long. I should have taken the time to really process Georgia’s words when she told us she’d called Landry and told him she was done. So many things I should have done, but especially the most important one—allowing that thing clawing at the back of my mind to finally be set free on my own, in my own way, in the comfort of Shelby’s arms so it didn’t wreck us both.
* * *
“Well, isn’t this just the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Shelby’s eyes dart to the door and I sigh when I hear his sarcastic voice. I thought we might have a little more time alone before this had to happen, but I should have known when Georgia said she spoke to him that he wouldn’t be smart enough to realize it was over. That he was over.
Gently moving Shelby out of my arms, I turn to face Landry, pushing her behind me to keep her safe. He looks like absolute shit. His normally slicked-back hair is standing on end as he’d held it in his fists and tried to yank it out by the roots. His face is flushed, his white dress shirt is dotted with sweat stains, and his tie is loose and hanging all askew.
“No, really, don’t stop dancing on my account. Or would you rather fuck him right in front of me, Shelby, since you’ve obviously had no trouble doing it behind my back?” he asks angrily, tilting his head to look behind me.
“Go to hell, Landry,” Shelby fires back. “My mother has already gone to the police. It’s only a matter of time before they find you and arrest your ass as well.”
He tips his head back and laughs.
“No one can touch me—haven’t you figured that out yet, Shelby? God, it was so pathetic watching you scramble around for all these years, doing whatever Mommy Dearest asked. I mean, obviously it benefited me since I finally got to fuck you after all those years I spent wanting you, but still. Pathetic.”
He laughs again when Shelby darts out from around me. The only thing stopping me from punching him in the face is wrapping my arms around Shelby and holding her back from doing the same.
“He’s not worth it, Shelby,” I say quietly in her ear as she squirms and tries to fight my hold on her.
“I have to give that woman credit, though,” Landry muses, shoving his hands in his front pockets. “As weak as she was, she sure turned into quite the firecracker. I wanted to kill you and get you out of the picture permanently, but she convinced me sending you on deployment was a better idea. And it worked, too, until your deployment was almost up and I knew you’d come running back home to her. A few phone calls to the right people and voilà! Your unit heads off into the most dangerous, IED-infested area there is. Boom. No more Eli. You couldn’t just stay dead, could you?”
It’s Shelby’s turn to clutch at my arms and try to hold me in place, but it’s no use. As soon as he says those words, as soon as he mentions the explosion that killed my brothers, I’m charging across the room.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I can hear Shelby shouting my name, but all I can hear are the sounds of explosions and screams, all I can see is red, and all I can feel is rage. My hand wraps around his neck and I slam him into the wall at his back, getting right in his face.
“You killed my men,” I growl. “Did you have me taken hostage, too? Was my five years in hell the result of another phone call to the right people, you sick son of a bitch?”
I tighten my fingers around his neck and he reaches up to claw at my hand, choking out his words with a cocky smile on his face.
“That was just luck. But I did make sure to send them a nice hefty bonus to finish the job I started.”
Yanking him toward me, I shove as hard as I can and slam his back into the wall once more. I feel Shelby’s hands clutching to the back of my shirt, trying to pull me away, but I ignore her as I squeeze and squeeze and squeeze. The memories slowly start to flash through my mind—the scorching heat from the blast, the shrapnel and pieces of my brothers raining down on me, the ringing in my ears, the punches to the face, being dragged across the sand, blindfolded, kicked…the sounds, the smells, the pain, it surrounds me until it’s all I can do not to kill this man for being the one responsible for everything.
“Eli! He’s not worth it, Eli. Please, he’s not worth it.”
Shelby’s voice finally penetrates, repeating the words I’d said to her just a few seconds ago, and I slowly start to loosen my hold around Landry’s neck, his red face and bulging eyes still holding an air of satisfaction and arrogance even as he coughs and sputters and tries to drag in breaths.
“I’m not worth it?” he croaks, his hands rubbing the skin of his throat when I finally let go. “What about him? You’re actually going to choose him over me? A man who couldn’t even keep his best friend alive?”
Blood rushes through my ears and pain explodes behind my eyes. Images try to push their way to the front of my mind but I won’t let them. Not here. Not now. I’m not ready for this.
“He couldn’t even save his brother and you think he’s going to save you?” Landry shouts at Shelby, his eyes narrowing as he leans toward me. “Tell me, did Sergeant Edwards beg for you to help him right before they put a bullet in his brain?”
I stumble backward, shaking my head frantically back and forth. It sounds like Shelby is screaming from somewhere down a tunnel. I want to go to her, I need her to make this all better, but I can’t get to her. I can’t move. I can’t stop his words from penetrating and I can’t stop everything from hitting me all at once.
Rylan joking with Kat, but her never acknowledging him.
Kat asking me if I’d taken my meds anytime I spoke to him.
Rylan asking Paul a question and Paul not even looking in his direction.
Kat looking like she wanted to cry when I told her Rylan was moving in with me.
Rylan aiming the remote at the TV but never getting it to turn on.
Rylan with the same shaggy hair and beard.
Rylan never changing, never finding anything to do, never moving on.
“You need to tell Shelby what happened over there and let go. Just…let go.”
“I’ll leave when you don’t need me anymore.”
I squeeze my head in my hands and close my eyes, trying to make it go away. Go away, go away, go away. I’m not ready.
Shouting, the pounding of footsteps and gunfire sound from outside the room and I wonder just how many people they need to bring in here to kill two weak men who can barely move.
My hands are quickly shackled to a wall above my head right next to Rylan, my broken body groaning in protest. No matter what happens next, I will not give in. I was born a Marine and I will die a Marine.
“Ooh Rah,” we both whisper to each other, not breaking eye contact as a loud explosion shakes the walls, rattles our chests, and rains dirt and rocks down on us from the ceiling.
How much can a man take before he breaks?
I see one of our captors rush over to stand in front of Rylan, lifting his arm and aiming the gun right at his head.
I hear myself screaming, screaming, screaming, tugging as hard as I can on the chains, kicking my legs, doing whatever I can to make this asshole point his gun at me instead.
Rylan’s eyes never leave mine. He tells me it’s okay. He makes a joke that we all have to die sometime. He tells me never to stop fighting. He tells me to get my girl back and live a good life for both of us.
He stops telling me anything else when the gun explodes.
I can’t breathe. I try to scream, I try to fight, I try to kick and claw away from the nightmare that I don’t want to believe is real. I drop to the floor and curl into a ball, trying to make it all go away. It’s not real, it can’t be real.
I didn’t save him.
I couldn’t save him.
I can’t do this. I can’t handle this. I just want it all to go away.
Closing my eyes even tighter, I do what I can to make it all go away, but it’s no use.
I finally know how much a man can take before he breaks.