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“To our fallen hero, you may have departed from this world, but your legacy endures. You will forever remain in our hearts, a symbol of all that is noble and just, and a reminder of the price of freedom. Your wish will be done.” The last part is almost a hushed promise to Matthew but I heard it.
We stand as “Taps” begins playing over the loudspeaker, a hushed silence falls over the audience.
“Ready. Aim. Fire.” An officer commands as the twenty-one-gun salute commences. I knew it was coming but it’s much louder than I expected. As I stand there, the finality of the moment rushes over me, causing me to feel faint. My legs wobble but before I fall, Sam is there holding me up again. I didn’t even notice he’d moved but here he is coming to my rescue. I look up at his handsome face as tears trickle down my cheeks. I’m looking for answers. I’m looking for guidance on how I’m supposed to live without my brother, my best friend. He wipes the tears away then pulls me close. He stays by my side as the funeral comes to an end.
The casket team approaches from the side and begin to meticulously fold the American flag. It gets handed off to the Officer in Charge and he comes to present the flag to my grieving mother. She cries as she clutches the flag close to her chest. My father pulls her in close as they weep together at the loss of their son. I haven’t taken the time to see how much this affects them. I have been so caught up in my loss in all this.
Once everything is finalized, people begin to disburse as several wait their turns to extend their condolences. I can’t be here for this part. I need to get away. Samuel must sense my reticence as he takes my hand leading me from the tents. Before he can open an umbrella, I take off through the rain, loving the chill against my face. He catches up to me but instead of pulling me under an umbrella, he races into the rain with me. We arrive at the cars and I’m breathing heavy not from exertion but with everything going on in my life now.
27 years old
Samuel
In the midst of grief, I find solace in the rain, running alongside Marcy. The rain's liberating touch seems to cleanse my shattered spirit. I can’t quite explain it, but Marcy had the right idea. I had to get away from there. I sensed her exhaustion from the situation, that’s why I pulled her along with me to head to the cars. She’s grown up so much from the time we left to now. She's transformed from the little girl once in our shadows to a resplendent woman. She has so much fire in her, just like Matthew. The child I cherished has matured into a woman who evokes newfound emotions within me.
As my pulse races, I draw closer to Marcy, her back against the sleek limousine. Holding her face gently in my hands, I'm captivated by her emerald eyes, which hold a depth I long to explore. My thumbs brush away the raindrops on her cheeks, a futile effort as more droplets gather.
“Marcy,” I groan. Her warmth soaks into my body causing me to shiver but not from the temperature. Her eyes hold a fiery passion, locked onto mine. I bend toward her gradually, giving her a chance to stop me, yet she remains silent. Our lips brush as an electric pulse runs through me. It jumpstarts my heart, but in a fleeting moment, I detach myself from her. This was a mistake. I owe this much to Matthew.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” The moment hangs in the air, suspended between connection and departure. Her lips, warm and fleeting, left an imprint on mine—a promise unspoken, a question unanswered. I back away as I see the realization take over in her mind. She’s probably going to hate me but I have to get away. I vowed to take care of her, but not like this. She deserves so much better. Marcy holds her hand to her lips with fresh tears streaming down her face. I fucked everything up. With one last look at the gorgeous redhead before me, I turn and head toward my car.It takes immense willpower to avoid turning back to her, yet I grasp the importance of my decision. I can’t start something with her knowing I’ll be going back overseas. She’s already lost so much and I can’t bring myself to add to that.
With my hand on my car, I stand there, heart racing, caught between surprise and longing. Why did I kiss her? Why did I leave? The silence echoes, a void that begs for explanation. I chance a glance back but she is already disappearing, fading into the crowd, leaving me with nothing but the taste of her on my lips.
Chapter 13
Marcy
When I turn over in bed to feel for Sam, his spot is cool to the touch. I crack one eye open and see the bathroom door is wide open, he’s not in there either. Stretching my arms over my head, I feel the ache between my thighs but can only smile. Samuel fucking Knight took my virginity. If you would’ve told me that’s what was in store for me then I wouldn’t have believed it. I kick my legs in the air and squeal in excitement. Is this real life?
I need to use the restroom but I’m naked with nothing to throw on to cover me, thanks to Sam for ripping my dress to shreds. It was hot as hell at the time, but now I have a problem. Looking around the room, I don’t see any alternatives so I wrap the silky sheet tightly around my body then pad to the bathroom. I close the door and lock it behind me letting the sheet pool at my feet. Standing in front of the mirror, I see all the little love bites Sam left behind making my heart drum in my chest. Seeing how he marked me sends chills through my body. My long curls are going in all directions but I can’t bring myself to care. As I lean over the counter to look at all the bruises, I feel dried cum between my legs. It’s a foreign sensation but I can’t help but welcome the feeling. I’m finally not a virgin. You need a shower, stat.
Stepping into the shower, I revel in the hot water running over my body. The heat relaxes my sore muscles making me want to sink to the floor. I’m still tired even after the nap I had. My headache seems to have faded, though, making me wonder if it’s true what they say. Does having sex relieve headaches? Seems accurate.
I quickly soap up with Sam’s body wash loving that I will smell like him for the rest of the day. His shampoo options are severely lacking so I’m forced to use the same body wash and hope for the best. No conditioner for my mane–I imagine my hair will look like something from a horror movie once it dries. The towels are heated and it wraps around my body like a glove. My mind slips into the thought of living like this. It’s the little things but it’s so luxurious.
Since he shredded my dress like a caveman, I’ll have to take some of his clothes. His closet is larger than three of mine combined. A freaking bed could fit in here. Sam has all his clothes perfectly hanging with formal and casual separated by fancy partitions. My fingers graze over the different materials until I come to the end of his closet where I see several formal military uniforms hanging.
Matthew used to wear the same uniform. A lump forms in my throat at the sight. In an instant, the closet feels like it’s closing in around me and I can’t breathe. I run from there slamming the door behind me. I fall against it with my hand over my chest. It aches, making me think of Matthew and how he’s not here. And I just slept with his best friend. My heart sinks at the thought that he would be disappointed in me. I rush to the dresser before me and toss on an oversized t-shirt and joggers. My boots are at the foot of the bed so I grab them quickly making my way out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
I hear Samuel on the phone so hopefully I can sneak out without him noticing. Shit, where is my purse? I need my phone to call for a ride or I won’t be going anywhere.
My heart pounds in my chest as I look around for the small wristlet that I took to the party. I can’t help but check out Sam’s penthouse in my search. I love the open concept with huge floor to ceiling windows but it definitely looks like a man’s pad. One plus is it’s clean and everything seems to have its own spot. I don’t remember him being so meticulous before but I guess the military can have that effect on you. Finally I see a sparkle coming from the couch and I know it must be it. As I tiptoe around the side table, I hear a rustling behind me and someone clearing their throat. Fuck, he caught me.
“Going somewhere, sunshine?” he taunts as I whirl around. He approaches me with two piping hot coffee mugs in his hands.
“I was, uh, just looking for my purse,” I half lie. I mean I was looking for it but to get the hell out of here, I happen to leave that part out. Sam has his pajama pants hung low on his hips drawing my attention to his impeccable abs and what they lead down to. I know my face is giving me away because I can feel the heat in my cheeks. It’s the curse of a red head. My emotions play across my face like a movie. I have to bite back a moan at the Greek god in front of me. What was I doing again?
“Are you sure that’s the answer you want to go with? You know what I told you happens to bad girls that lie,” he smirks. Dammit, that stupid dimple I’ve dreamed about for years appears as he stalks over to me. I want to run and jump into his arms and let him tell me that everything is going to be okay, but is it? Matthew not being here makes me feel like I don’t deserve to be happy because I don’t have him to share it with. I feel selfish for thinking, even for a second, that Sam and I could be happy together. It was always too good to be true. Maybe if Matthew was still here things could have been different between Sam and I. Maybe then I wouldn’t have this guilt weighing on my chest.
“I, um, I took a shower.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Then I went looking for clothes and your closet…” I try to choke out the rest of the words but they won't come. Tears threaten to spill so I look away, ashamed to feel this way in his presence.
“You saw my old uniforms,” he finishes for me. I nod my head as I drop my bag to the couch and wrap my arms around myself. Sam sets the mugs down, taking a few steps closer to me until he’s towering over me. I can feel the heat from his body circling around me. He places his fingers under my chin, lifting my face to meet his. His eyes bore into mine with a deep emotion that I can’t decipher. Anger? Possession? Whatever it is, I feel like I might slip into its dark depths.
“You think I’m just going to let you run out of here after everything that’s happened between us?” he asks, still grasping my chin tightly, not allowing me to run from the situation. He knows me well. He knows I’m a runner when things get tough. I guess I haven’t grown up as much as I thought I have.
My shoulders shrug on their own accord, not really knowing how to respond.
“Words, Marcy,” he commands.
