My Soldier: A Miliatary Romance Read online

  A mess of chicken scratch spelled my name across the center of the envelope. And in the upper left corner, the name I had so badly wanted see light up my screen. Levi Hite.

  Did he?

  My hands started to clam up, the surface sticky and warm with sweat. Every inch of my body had gone numb, all the pain that was crusting the surface had disappeared.

  Peeling open the flap, I tugged out a poorly folded piece of paper. The white lines were creased in all directions, crumpled edges and split corners highlighted the folds.

  It looked like he had written it, then folded it, then threw it in the trash, only to dig it out and send it anyway.

  My body was buzzing, curiosity and electricity exploded across my brain. Opening the letter slowly, I was afraid it would tear in my fingers. His words lost in torn fragments of thoughts I'd have to piece back together.

  V,

  I'm not good at this. I'm not good at emotions, no better than me trying to put pen to paper.

  But this is better than me rambling on and possibly offending you and forcing you out of my life forever. I don't want that.

  I can't tell you what fills me when I'm around you, I can't explain in words the feelings that wrap my stomach and beat inside my head.

  There's something there, something I can't get rid of no matter how much I try.

  And I tried.

  The worse part... I can't tell you in print, I can't tell you in text, or over the phone.

  Do you believe in fate? Do you believe in things happening for a reason?

  I do. And I feel that now more than ever.

  Avni, for me you are the most interesting and complicated person I have had the pleasure of meeting. But I've met you before.

  And it's that feeling of fate that keeps yanking on my brain. I believe I was meant to find you, I believe I was meant to help you, and I believe this didn't happen by accident.

  I made a promise to help you, and I plan to stand by that.

  When you're ready to accept what I know you feel too, I'll be here.

  —Levi

  My heart was in my throat, ribs breaking with the intense pounding hitting each one as my heart was forced up. My face hurt, my brain was tired; my stomach twirled with sea sickness. Now this.

  He met me before? When? That wasn't possible. You don't forget a man like Levi.

  What did his cryptic letter mean? Fate?

  I never believed in fate. Fate was a way to explain away what couldn't be understood, it was a cold attempt at glorifying death.

  No one ever used the word fate unless they wanted to rationalize the sudden loss of someone close, or the swift demise of something worked for.

  Was it fate when my brother died and a family already reeling with struggles of a disabled daughter—sister— lost their only son?

  Was it fate when I unwillingly took my brother's burden and got beaten down emotionally for something my hands never touched?

  No.

  Fate was a word created by those who needed to believe things happened for a reason, for those who needed something to hold onto when they had nothing left to grasp.

  Fate was a bullshit word that meant nothing.

  I gave up on fate.

  Now everything just was.

  Some people go through life riding on an iron horse, nothing breaking down the security around them. No horrors, no wounds.

  My life was a stone skipping across the smooth surface of the water. It bounced a few times, then sank into the depths of darkness that waited below to tear it from the surface once gravity took hold.

  I was sinking.

  Chapter Twelve

  Levi

  Have you ever been so scared in your life, everything literally stopped?

  The world was paused, muted, and uncertainty hung above your head like a worm on a hook. Was the meal only a false tease that would get yanked away when you tried to take a bite?

  Sixteen Months Earlier

  Every noise turned to silence, and all that was left was my heartbeat. A thumping so uncontrollably intense, my surroundings moved in slow motion.

  My ears were ringing with the loud explosions, a buzzing so excruciating it numbed every sense in my body.

  Turning towards my troop commander, his lips were moving fiercely, but he wasn't speaking any words. None that I could hear anyway.

  His face was distorted and angry, dirt and dust had found its way across his skin. The tinted, mud-colored smears were speckled with streaks of clean flesh from the sweat pouring over his temples.

  In one blink the world around me started to spin, the ceiling was down, the floor was up. The truck jolted in one burst onto its roof, flipping and tumbling as if it was made of paper blowing in a breeze.

  Shaking my head, I was no longer in my seat. I had been tossed outside, a billow of dirt had clouded around me.

  Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, filling my limbs and mind with the need to stand and run for cover.

  Pushing my palms into the sand, the grains were hot and seeping over the top of my hand as I pressed up.

  An intense, searing burn cracked through the muscle of my left thigh, making me feel completely aware of each and every nerve ending.

  The hard sinew stung, boiled, cooled to ice, then went up in an inferno. Falling back down, I gripped the side of my leg.

  I knew I was screaming, I could feel my mouth temper and form the words, but the air filled screams wouldn't even crack the barrier of my own head.

  I laid in shock, still trying to grasp what had just happened. The warm gush of blood had started to soak through my pants, turning the tan camo to deep crimson.

  We had just hit an IED. There was no doubt in my mind, we became roadkill.

  I watched pieces of the building beside our truck crumble. Bullets ricocheted off the cement walls around me, leaving large gaping holes. The structure across from me began to crack and fall apart. Walls disintegrating and tumbling to the street.

  And the smell; the scent of fear, mixed with anger and burning rubble; had started to coat my brain.

  I wanted to kill the motherfucker who had just tried to destroy us. I had only been here for a month, but that was long enough to hollow out the evil that existed outside the safety of our barracks.

  My first tour I was lucky. The gunfire was there, the explosions were loud and seemed to sit right outside my door. But that's all it remained; sounds. There had been no close calls, no true risk that presented itself as a smack in the face.

  Everything about my second tour felt different.

  The sky was speckled in a deep gray blanket, the air as I stepped off the plane held a thicker taste. Even the voices of the locals seemed to whisper through the wind with no true sound.

  A man I had met many months before had warned me of the dangers that lurked outside our protective walls.

  But the war was slowing, troops had been getting pulled out, and less were being sent in. I let my false security, and my young nature, blind me to the true threats at hand.

  There were many good people here, many people that welcomed us with smiles and thankful gestures.

  And then there were those that lived on the outskirts of society, the ones who carried true scorn and hatred. And it was those people I blindfolded myself from.

  I should have seen the signs, I should have read the aromatic scent of death. But I didn't.

  Digging my nails into the sand, I tried to drag myself out of danger. I didn't want to be sitting right in the sight of a sniper, an unaware mouse at the nest of a snake.

  But I couldn't move far, each tug sent electric snaps through my leg, causing me to stop and grab hold of the wounded area.

  Looking over my shoulders, I tried to see if any of my brothers were close by. But there was only debris, and from what I could tell—but tried to block out—mangled body parts that were unidentifiable to me.

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  I tried to gather my thoughts, think back to training and what I
needed to do to stop from bleeding out.

  I couldn't see all the damage to my thigh, but the enormous pool of blood forming and the woozy feeling that was starting to wrap around my brain was telling me it was pretty bad.

  I was bleeding, and it wasn't going to stop on its own.

  My head was beginning to feel light, the world around me growing into a hazy silent cloud. The ringing in my ears was still hitting the drums full force, silencing the sounds around me.

  I had no idea if my section had scattered to safety, or if they were all doomed to call this their final resting place.

  Jumping with surprise, a set of hands had grabbed me by the back of my collar. Twisting in a rage, I tried to fight for freedom.

  I was watching the only security I knew, the wall of a deep tread tire, fall faster and faster into the distance.

  Rounding a corner, I made a feeble attempt to latch onto the disintegrating walls. The stone broke away, turning to rubble in my fingers.

  Throwing my hands onto the wrists of my captor, I clawed and pulled, and dug my nails in deep. I didn't want to turn into a war trophy, a soldier that would be tortured and marred for information.

  The unknown hands released, then reemerged around my thigh. Slicing away the soaked and charred fabric, the hands set tight around the shredded flesh that was once my supporter.

  A stabbing pain ignited so deep it hit bone. A guttural scream tried to escape my mouth, but I bit down clenching my teeth.

  Wiping the dust from my eyes, I let out a sigh of relief. It was another soldier.

  Thank God. Oh, thank God.

  ***

  She needs to know. Has to know about my savior. If Avni could hear what I had gone through, what someone else did to keep me alive...

  Maybe then she'd understand why I needed to help her even more than before. There was no doubt in my mind, she was mine to save.

  It was fate. It had to be fate.

  There was no other explanation for me stumbling on her that night. Fate.

  My life had a second chance, another opportunity to pay it forward. A life was granted in turn for another.

  I wouldn't have been here to rescue her from the hands of a dirtbag like Vito if it wasn't my purpose. I was led to that street, led to the dark shadow of voices, led to her.

  And I was going to make sure he'd never hurt her, Avni had become the reason I lived.

  But I haven't heard a word from her in over a week.

  Had she gotten my letter? Did she read it and throw it in the trash, cursing my name to the devil?

  But what I had to share was too important to say through some impersonal text message, or faceless voice through a speaker. I had to tell her in person.

  I wanted to tell her before, but it just didn't seem to be the right time. Her mind was fucked up, she's been lost for so long. Wandering the world with a void that was eating her from the inside out.

  It was important for her to start coping, start leaving the misery in the past and hold onto the good memories.

  Only the good memories.

  If she did that, then and only then, would she be able to let herself feel joy and pleasure again.

  That girl was fucking stubborn though, and as much as her strength was beyond sexy and hot as hell, it was what held her back.

  Avni couldn't... No, she wouldn't let herself be freed.

  Free to mourn, free to laugh weightlessly, free to be happy; truly and endlessly happy.

  I wanted to give her that, take away her pain and replace it with all the happiness I could give her. Every piece of me was ready to devour her, make her mine forever.

  I was her freedom.

  She was just so damn thick headed and defiant to what she was feeling, to what she wanted, to what she knew was riding her heart like a fucking roaring monsoon.

  Tapping my chin, I debated just going to her house. If she wasn't going to come to me, then I was going to end this little stand-off.

  I didn't want to be away from her, and the time that had passed was too long already.

  She needed me to be there. I was her protection, her safety net, her rock.

  Even if she didn't want to realize it.

  Fuck that, if she won't see it on her own...

  What if something happened?

  My chest started to squeeze around my lungs, the air pressing up and out in one quick salvo.

  The idea of Vito having laid a single finger on her, on my woman; it sent my brain into the snake pit.

  I couldn't shake it, couldn't stop the fear and anger from filling my muscles. If he did anything to hurt her...

  I'll kill him.

  I wasn't waiting anymore, I had to make sure she was okay, and I was holding back something from her.

  Something she needed to know.

  Taking the short walk to her apartment, I stood at the bottom of her steps for much longer than I wanted to.

  My plan had been to storm up her steps, slam my fist on her door and make her finally accept what was being thrown right in her face.

  Me.

  But as I stood there, a nervous twitch broke across my hand. My muscle started to spasm, finger working a tight beat across my jeans.

  How is she going to take what I have to tell her?

  Will she even believe me?

  Pacing back and forth at the base of the steps, I kept glancing between her door and the ground. I wasn't sure exactly how I was going to drop the bombshell on her.

  There was a strange fear resting in my stomach like a ball of knots. Twisting and turning and colliding with my insides, the massive ball turned my gut into hot soup.

  What if this forces her away forever?

  Shaking my head, I gripped my temples trying to force the feelings away. I was never nervous, or scared, or frightened about anything anymore.

  After almost having my leg blown off and my head used as target practice by a terrorist sniper, what in the real world at home could compare?

  But this, for some odd unknown reason, forced my nerves into overdrive, made my head rock with questions and uncertainty.

  Telling her about what happened to me, how I was saved, it scared the shit out of me. And I didn't know why.

  What is there to be afraid of? Don't be a pussy!

  Deep down I knew, knew what was frightening me into being a statue at her doorstep.

  It was fear of her thinking I only wanted to help her because of what happened to me. That I felt it was owed and that was the only reason why, the only thing holding me to my promise.

  But it wasn't.

  I wanted to help her from the first moment I laid eyes on her. Frozen, terrified, trapped by three men threatening her with violence. I wasn't lying when I promised her I'd keep her safe.

  After seeing her in the cemetery, it was then and only then, I knew fate had a hand in this. It was then I realized I was alive for her.

  But I meant what I said, and I didn't do it just because I felt I needed to.

  My life had been saved so I could be here to save her when she needed it. I couldn't deny the parallel, this was meant to be.

  “What are you doing here?” The soft voice stroked my ears like a sweet song. A song I hadn't heard in what felt like ages.

  Instantly I was calm, cooled.

  Happy to finally hear her voice again after what seemed like eternity.

  Never again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Avni

  Did I really just answer the door so coldly?

  I had spent days thinking about this man, and here he was. Then I go and answer the door with a dark and icy greeting. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  His face jerked up to meet mine, a wordless glare met my eyes. He didn't looked pissed or angry, he looked relieved.

  Levi's shoulders tugged a hair higher, raising as if whatever weight had carried him down, suddenly rolled off his back.

  Was he worried? Did he miss me too?

  Stop it, Avni. You're thinking like a teenage girl awes
truck by her admirer.

  That's what this had to be, we slept together, but that didn't mean anything. We weren't suddenly chained together by ball and hitch.

  Lust didn't mean love, sex didn't mean forever.

  Clearing my throat, I opened the door wider. “You want to come in?”

  Nodding, he shrugged his shoulders. “You sure?” His hand brushed the hair from his eyes, his bold blues hit me like sapphire spotlights.

  My body shivered, heart skipping several beats as I stood there like a voiceless fool. Shoving my sudden heart attack to the side, I smiled. “Yes, come in.”

  Waving him forward, I stepped back into the shade of my living room. Swallowing the peach sized lump growing in my throat, I wanted to yell I was sorry.

  It had been so hard since losing my brother, and the littlest things seemed to throw me for a loop. I couldn't control it. I never knew when it was going to happen, or what would set it off.

  But when it hit, it hit hard.

  I was only trying to protect myself from all the evil that feeling for others possesses. I wasn't ready for it, and I honestly didn't know if I ever would be.

  I knew he wanted more from this, and I knew I couldn't give it. But I also knew I didn't have to react the way I did. I had lost it... Again. I just really needed him to understand and respect where I was coming from.

  Shutting the door behind him, T scrambled to his feet, readily rolling into position for a tummy scratch.

  “Hey little man, I mean big dude.” Dropping to his haunches, Levi rubbed his belly. Lifting to his feet, he said the last thing I expected he would. “I'm sorry.”

  I was shocked, dumbfounded, and aching instantly inside. He hadn't done anything wrong, I did.

  Throwing my hand up, I stopped his apology immediately. “No, you don't need to be sorry. I'm the one who should apologize. I went off the deep end, I'm sorry. You had just protected me—”

  Cutting me off, he snickered under his breath. “For a third time.”

  “I thought we weren't going to keep tabs?” Snapping a hand to my hip, my lips couldn't stop from arching up.

  For the first time in six days, I smiled.

  “We're not, I just thought I'd make note of it is all.” Pushing out his lower lip, he waved his hand to brush the comment away. “But I'm sorry too, I shouldn't ask you for more than you're ready to give. You need time, I get that. I promised you I'd be here to help with Vito, and I'm a man who stands by his word.” Bridging the gap between us, he scooped my wrists in his hands, thumbs caressing my knuckles.