That night after they put the offer in on the house Tori lay in bed, unable to sleep with nothing but thoughts rolling around in her head.
Tori let out a nervous breath and curled to her side. Lately, she felt that Scott was far too good for her. Maybe after everything she’d lost in her life, he was her redemption. Maybe the universe finally was giving her something pure.
Scott shook and jolted next to her, flinging his arm across her torso.
“Babe?” she muttered low enough she wouldn’t wake him, but loud enough for him to register.
He mumbled something she didn’t quite understand, then his body shook again. In the past month they’d been living together, she’d once again been privy to the nightmares she’d long since forgotten about when they shared a bed for those few months in Keith’s condo.
She’d assumed they were a thing of history, but apparently not. Like her, his past still haunted him. This was the third one this month. They had started back up again when they were in Texas. Normally he’d quiet after a few minutes, so she’d taught herself to let them ride out, knowing he’d eventually calm.
“I’ll fucking kill you, motherfucker…” his body jolted again. “No…no…NO!” his shouts were agonizing, something between a scream and a cry of terror. It sounded like he was being tortured.
Enough was enough.
“Scott!” she leaned over his torso and shook his shoulder. “Baby, wake up. You’re ok. It’s just a bad dream.” She stroked his cheek.
His hand gripped her arm, his fingers digging deep into her bicep. She winced. “Scott!”
Before she knew it, she was flipped over onto her back and all two hundred twenty pounds of him had pinned her down to the mattress.
She tried to speak but struggled with his heavy weight on her, she swatted at him. Her eyes welled up as the lack of oxygen made the room spin. “Please, baby, it’s me,” she finally croaked.
The sun beat down on him as his boots dug into the desert sand. He shouldered his weapon and aimed it at the man’s head.
The man shouted something in Arabic and Scott knew enough of the language to understand that it was something about her being an adulteress, which in his experience was most likely bullshit and an excuse for being able to execute his wife.
“Let her go.” Scott ordered the man to lower the knife at the woman’s throat. He couldn’t see her face, but her steel-blue eyes bore the full fear of the muffled screams that were coming from under her Birka.
“I’ll fucking kill you, motherfucker,” Scott swore to the man.
Blue eyes were rare in this part of the world. These were the most gorgeous eyes he’d ever seen. The knife pressed deeper into her neck, a trickle of blood flowed onto it. He took the shot, but it was too late. Her blood spilled out into the sand as her husband’s lifeless body fell to the dust.
She clutched her neck, but it did nothing to stop the liquid from pouring through her fingertips at an alarming rate. Scott ran to her and pulled off the Birka. Fuck rules at this point. He rolled her over, blonde waves spilling out from underneath, those gorgeous blue eyes staring back at him, lifeless. Tori’s eyes. Her body.
“Nooooooo!” He screamed in agony.
An arm grabbed his. Swiftly, he turned around and tackled his aggressor to the ground. He pushed his arm up to his neck and pressed in, cutting off his air supply. The man writhed underneath him.
“Please, baby, it’s me…” female words poured out of the man’s mouth.
He snapped open his eyes.
It took his brain about two seconds to realize that this was his bedroom and he’d pinned Tori down. Her unseeing eyes were wide with fear—much like the eyes from the dream, but this time it was him hurting her, not some stranger.
He jerked back as Tori placed her hand on her chest, coughing and gasping for air. “Oh, baby.” He went to stroke her cheek but she instinctively jerked away from him. That one swift movement was like a knife gutting him. “I’m sorry…I didn’t…I thought…” he could barely muster words as angry, regretful tears poured out of him.
Finally, after several agonizing moments she caught her air and her expression softened.
“It’s ok…” Her arms wrapped around his torso and she pulled him in. “It’s not real. Whatever it was, it isn’t real. I know you didn’t mean to.”
His heart shattered. All the pain he’d endured in his life paled compared to how he felt in that moment. He collapsed into her embrace and sobbed, muttering useless apologies. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He could barely get the words out between the sobs. “He killed you…I thought…” he couldn’t say what was swimming in his skull.
She lay there for the next several minutes calming him; when he should be the one calming her. She had every right to be terrified of him and should be after what he just did.
Without a word, he leaned over the bed and slipped on his rubber liner over his compression sock. He pulled up onto his crutches and went to the closet. He grabbed his blade, leaned up against the wall and stuck it on.
“You didn’t hurt me, baby, just startled me,” she assured.
It didn’t matter. The look of terror on her face would haunt him forever. He’d never forgive himself. How could she? He dressed in jogging shorts and a snug tee before slipping his running shoe on his right foot.
“Babe, where are you going?” She ran her fingers through her tousled locks. “Please, say something.”
His silence was probably scaring her more than what just transpired. “Going for a run to clear my head. I’ll be back soon,” he promised.
She never slept. She knew without a doubt that man would never lay a hand on her intentionally. Scott was a hero through and through. That’s why this had to be killing him. She knew damn well that Scott would never let go of what happened. He wasn’t the type of man that forgave himself easily for mistakes.
She knew his heart. She loved him, flaws and all. He was the most honorable man she knew. She still felt unworthy of his love. She was ready to marry him, but now, after this, she feared he’d never ask.
She lay there listening to nothing but her own breath as the clock ticked by. Finally, after an hour, the apartment door gently shut. She waited for him to come in the bedroom, but he kept his distance.
At last, she heard the haunting melody as he strummed his guitar in the other room. His voice rang out across the apartment as he sang; calling to her with the music in his soul, using the lyrics to speak the words he couldn’t.
She stood in the doorway and listened as he poured it out.
Scott never talked much to Tori about his deployments, his injury and the things he’d gone through. He was never one to complain about the sacrifices he’d made. Even after his injury, when he spiraled out of control for a while—he never talked about it with Tori.
She was ok with that. She understood the inability to talk about the things that wounded so deeply.
Scott stopped strumming the tune.
“That was beautiful,” Tori’s voice echoed across the room. He turned to her. God, she was so gorgeous standing there in nothing but a t-shirt and panties, leaning against the door frame.
Scott didn’t say anything in response for several moments. He leaned the guitar up against the sofa. “Tori…”
Tori held her hand up. “Stop. You don’t have to explain, Scott. It’s ok, I’ve told you that already.” She inched closer to him.
“It’s not ok. It’s so fucking far from ok. I could’ve…” he choked on his words
I could’ve killed her.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, “I could’ve really hurt you,” he said, still hating himself. She couldn’t see his eyes welling up with tears, and he fought hard to hold them back. He dug his palms into them to keep from coming undone.
“But you didn’t.” Tori sat on the sofa and reached for him, pulling him toward her. “Come here.” She placed a pillow on her lap and patted it.
He did as bid, laying his head down on her lap stretching out across the sofa. She ran her fingers through his hair. “What you did just now wasn’t much worse than pitting me against Blaze in the wrestling room.” Tori chuckled.
“This was so not the same.” He grunted. “I’m supposed to protect you. I never want to hurt you. Maybe you shouldn’t try and wake me, or touch me, just let me be,” Scott’s analytical mind went for a solution to the problem.
“You think you can control everything, Scott. We’ve been through this. You can’t—”
“Says the control freak herself,” Scott groaned.
“Scott,” she sighed, “this was bound to come out with us living together. It was inevitable.”
“You sound like my dad.” Scott chuckled. That mess of shit you keep locked in your closet will come tumbling out. His dad’s words echoed in his head.
“He’s a wise man,” Tori said in acknowledgment.
“Listen, babe.” Scott rested his wrist on his forehead. “The shit that I’ve seen,” he let out a deep breath. He didn’t want to tell her all that—how he’d seen humanity at its worst. His nightmares didn’t bother him. Hell, he’d had nightmares and vivid dreams ever since he was a kid. He was used to them. He’d always slept deep and startled easily. It was his stupid, natural reflexes that took over. He was trained to act quick. “I have a mess in my head. I leave it there because it’s my demon to deal with, not yours. It’s going to come spewing out from time to time. The mess doesn’t scare me anymore.” It hadn’t for years, until his fears of losing Tori brought it all bubbling to the surface. “What scares me is my shit is now hurting you.”
“As if my mess never affects you,” Tori pointed out. “Scott, I have things buried deep that will also spew out—”
Yes, Tori had lost much that she rarely spoke of. He didn’t want to trivialize her pain, but she couldn’t begin to imagine the horrors he’d seen, and he didn’t want her to.
“Mine’s different,” he cut her off, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I willingly sacrificed parts of myself,” he looked down at the blade of the prosthetic resting on the rug. “My brothers sacrificed their lives.” He folded his hands eyeing his right forearm covered in roses with their names scrawled between. “We did that so you don’t have to deal with the shit we did. Now I’m forcing you to. I don’t like that.”
Tori crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m so damn proud of the man you are and all you’ve sacrificed, but now that we’re together you’re gonna have to be ok with me seeing the mess.” Tori rubbed his shoulder lovingly. “Or in my case, tripping over the mess.” Tori chuckled and squeezed his arm. “Here’s the deal, just like all the other messes you leave out, when I trip over it, we’ll deal and move on.”
“Damn, that’s an amazing analogy, Babe.” Scott said with a laugh as he leaned back and rubbed his eyes before resting his arms on the top of his head. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“I won’t ever try to clean up your mess—I have a hard-enough time trying to deal with my own.” A solemn frown settled on her face. For a moment she looked terrified, more fearful than he’d ever seen her before. More scared than when he’d pinned her down. “There are things I need to tell you…” Her eyes welled up with tears and she choked on her words.
He took her trembling hands into his and a tear rolled down her cheek. The phone vibrated across the coffee table. He glanced over at it. “I’m sorry, baby, it’s Tiffani, the realtor.” If it was anyone else, he’d send it straight to voicemail.
She wiped a stray tear and forced a smile across her face. “It can wait.” He sucked in a breath and grabbed the phone.