Chapter 13

Thirteen

Clara

T he nightmare and the early morning visit from my very angry brother set the tone for the rest of my morning. Even Mac's unrelenting humor didn't erase my brother's words.

Things were strained between Eeli, Dyson, and me as we cleaned up the breakfast dishes and headed off to our respective jobs. My thoughts kept going to Sawyer and his reaction. Was that what we could expect from all our families?

The thought didn't cheer me, and judging by the grim looks Dyson and Eeli wore as Mac drove off and we got into our separate vehicles, they had concerns, too.

It didn't occur to me until I was halfway through cleaning and feeding the shelter animals that we hadn't made any plans to meet up that night. Did Dyson and Eeli just assume I'd come over? Or maybe they wanted to take the night off?

My heart ached at the thought of not sleeping between my men. But I hadn't even had a chance to think more about how to handle Eeli's nightmare. The next crisis came up too fast to navigate the first one.

Plus, we hadn't addressed the huge horny elephant in the room. I wanted my men, but everything seemed to be in our way to keep that from happening.

I sighed as I finished cleaning the cat room. I bent to scratch one of the residents behind the ears before letting myself out. I glanced up at the wall clock as I made my way into the tiny office space.

Not even quite noon yet and I felt like I'd been up for three days straight. I sank into my desk chair and eyeballed the stack of paperwork waiting for me. Not my favorite thing on the best of days.

"And this is not the best of days," I informed the raccoon currently recovering from an injury in the floor to ceiling enclosure that took up half the office.

He chattered right back at me, making my lips tip up for the first time since I walked through the door. "I know, I know. I shouldn't complain. At least I get to run free. But don't worry. You'll be getting sprung any day now."

He chattered back at me again.

"What's that? You think I should ditch the paperwork and go check on my men?" I stood up and grabbed my messenger bag from its spot on the floor. "That's the best idea you've had yet."

A quick call to Trinity while I locked up told me my guys were at the Kratos offices. I headed out in my truck, and the closer I got to Wild Ridge, the more agitated I became. I hadn't paid much attention to the low hum of need under my skin as I worked all morning, but now that I concentrated on my Dyson and Eeli, I became increasingly aware of how uncomfortable it was to be away from them.

Is this how they felt about being separated? I pictured the panic attacks each of them had when I'd managed to get them apart and a sneaking suspicion started to grow that their discomfort was much worse than what I felt right now. My heart ached for my guys and I pressed my foot harder on the gas.

I waved to Trinity as I stepped into the reception area. She was on the phone, but she waved and jutted her chin in the direction of the offices. I wasted no time heading in that direction, anticipation making my breath come heavier.

"Fuck. What are we going to do? Sawyer wasn't wrong." Dyson's low voice stopped me in my tracks. I could hear the emotions roiling through his words.

"Do you think we're wrong? About Clara?" Eeli's voice was just as low and emotion-filled.

"No. We know what we feel when we are with her. That woman was meant to be ours."

The breath I didn't realize I held left me in a big huff at Dyson's fast and firm response. Unfortunately, he didn't leave things there.

"But I think Sawyer's right that we might not be the best thing for her right now. We need to figure out this thing between us. We can't drag her into this fucked up mess."

"Shit." Eeli's curse was quiet but full of anger. "I don't think I can stay away from her."

Hope filled my chest. I hated that they had any doubts and I racked my brain for ways to reassure them I was just fine with working through their problems with them. The only important thing was that the three of us were together.

"We could reenlist," Dyson said.

My blood ran cold.

"You want to go back to that?" Eeli asked, the same disbelief I felt making his voice rise.

"I don't want to go back. But if it puts enough space between us and Clara while we figure this shit out, we should at least consider it. As long as we're here, we won't be able to stay away from her."

Silence followed Dyson's words. I braced a hand against the wall to help keep me up.

"You're right, man." Eeli's voice sounded defeated and my hand flew to my mouth to keep back the cry that wanted to break from me.

I'd finally— finally —found where I belonged. Something I'd begun to fear would never happen to me. I'd been afraid something was wrong with me. Until the bond between Dyson and Eeli clicked. Something so magical it had me believing in, well, magic. Despite the uniqueness of our situation, and the fact my guys were still working through something, I felt complete for the first time in my life.

But maybe I'd been right before. Maybe there was something wrong with me. Why else would my men think running back to the horrors that left them broken was a better alternative than staying here and fighting for us?

Only when something warm and wet hit the hand covering my mouth did I realize I was crying.

"Clara?"

I looked up to see Sawyer standing outside his office at the end of the hallway.

Crap. Sawyer's questions and accusations were the last thing I needed right now. I remembered all the words Sawyer hurled at us this morning. Words that pushed my men to consider going back to hell rather than stay here with me.

The anger, the fear, and the hurt churning through me formed a giant ball in my chest, so painful I couldn't contain it another second. As it broke wide open, my eyes blurred with hot tears that came too fast for me to stop them. I didn't trust myself to speak to Sawyer right now without getting violent, and I couldn't face Dyson and Eeli with their words still ringing through my head.

There was only one thing I could do. I whirled and ran as fast as my legs would carry me. Tears streamed down my face. Sawyer yelled my name out, the sound of his boots hitting the floor in a flat-out run pushing me to race out the door and slam into my truck.

I backed up without really looking, lucky I didn't hit anything as my tires sprayed up dirt and gravel. As I turned onto the road, I checked my rearview mirror to see Sawyer, Dyson, and Eeli crash out into the parking lot. Sawyer stood staring after me, but Dyson and Eeli didn't waste a moment getting to Dyson's SUV.

I ran the back of a hand over my cheeks, my movements jerky, and once again pressed my foot harder on the gas as I did my best to outrun the people who seemed determined to cause me pain.

I drove aimlessly for a little while, avoiding all my usual spots. My thoughts tumbled and turned until I thought I'd lose my mind. At the forefront of everything was the idea that Dyson and Eeli might go back into the military and leave me behind.

That thought sent such piercing pain through my chest, I struggled to catch my next breath. I might have only just realized how I felt about them, but even with only a few days together I couldn't imagine being apart. How could I survive with that empty pain inside me all the time?

I stared out the windshield and found myself driving past Pierson's, a sporting goods place on the very edge of town. The sight of it made me remember Deacon Pierson, the owner, had called me earlier in the week to let me know he had some old towels and blankets and some food he'd collected for the shelter. I might as well stop in and get them now. Nobody would be looking for me there.

If they were even looking for me instead of running off to reenlist. If they would even take them. I pulled my visor down to check how big a mess I looked, rolling my eyes at my own ridiculous, childish thoughts.

"The only one who ran anywhere was you," I told my reflection. I did my best to wipe away the tear tracks and smears of makeup under my eyes. With a sigh, I flipped the visor up. I'd done the best I could.

"Hey Deacon," I called to the tall, bearded man behind the counter as I walked in. His gaze swung my way. His only response to my greeting was a chin lift and a blank stare.

I stopped dead. I don't know how long I stood there holding Deacon's stare, but I couldn't look away. In his eyes, I suddenly saw my future.

Deacon's wife died in a car accident two years ago. She'd been one of the sweetest women I knew, petite with full-blown curves and an easy smile. Everyone loved her and she loved everyone.

When she and Deacon married, our family loved to tease the pair. Deacon was her exact opposite—big and gruff and stoic. But anyone who laid eyes on them together could see how well they fit. She softened some of Deacon's rougher edges. He protected her like she was the most precious treasure on the planet.

But you couldn't protect people from everything. She'd been driving home from her job in the local flower shop, a road she'd driven a million times before, on a clear evening. Nobody could figure out exactly what caused her car to go off the road, but she'd slammed into a tree with enough force that she'd been killed instantly.

And Deacon might as well have climbed into her grave beside her. Now he only went through the motions of living. He kept his store open, and because of the tourists and sportsmen the area attracted, he didn't have to try hard to keep it afloat. He ate his dinner at the diner in town, ordering the same thing every night. He ate mechanically, shoveling his food in steadily until his plate was cleared. He barely acknowledged the people around him, no matter the efforts they made. He treated everyone to the same blank-eyed stare.

The only thing he did that hinted at a sign of life was help collect donations for my shelter. I didn't think he cared much about my animals, though. He did it for his soulmate—a woman he loved like I loved my men. She'd been like me when it came to animals. Always had a soft spot for them, and she'd been the one who convinced him to put a donation collection in his store for the shelter animals. Continuing to do it after her death was something he did for her, keeping her memory alive long after she was gone.

And as I held his stare, I felt like I was seeing myself. My future.

Judging by the scars and marks I'd found on their bodies, Dyson and Eeli were lucky they made it home the first time. Going back in already carrying emotional wounds, topped off with severing our connection, I didn't hold out much hope either one of them would make it back to me.

My life yawned before me. A life of bleakness that never fully left my eyes. A life of going through the motions, like my body moved because of some deep-rooted muscle memory, but no real spark of life existed below the surface.

"Clara?" Deacon's gruff, little-used voice finally broke the spell.

Too bad my thoughts weren't squashed down as easily. I couldn't fight the sob climbing my throat.

"I'm sorry. I'll come back later." I barely made it back to my truck before I broke down. They wanted to leave me and with them would go everything that meant anything to me—my love of music, my passion for caring for the animals, my joy in being with my family.

I knew down to my soul that all of it would just leave the taste of sawdust and ashes on my tongue and a gnawing hollowness in my gut once they tore themselves away from me and our special bond.

After a few days of hope and a hint at a lifetime of love, I had nothing left to look forward to.

As I sat there, Deacon stepped out of his shop, staring at me in my truck. I blinked back my tears and straightened my shoulders. Time to practice going through the motions.

I gave him a wan smile and wave as I pulled out. A glance at the clock on the dash told me it was time to go back and do another round of cleaning and feeding. Without thought, I put the truck in gear and paid very little attention to how I got to the shelter.

Might as well get used to going through the motions now. I had a lot of years ahead of me of doing it.