2. Elias

Chloe’s on a date.

I have no right to be mad, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not. There’s an intense urge to walk across the restaurant and lay claim to her in front of God and everyone.

It would take no time at all for word to spread through Whiskey Run, and everyone will know that she’s off limits from this point forward. I want that more than anything. I want Chloe to be mine.

My leg is shaking underneath the table as I fight the possessive rage building inside me. At one time, I could have claimed her, and I did just that. But it’s been five years since that night, and I fucked up royally. I don’t stand a chance now.

Every time I come into town, it’s with the sole mission to see her and just make sure she’s okay. That’s what I try to convince myself to believe, anyway.

I’ve followed her to work, the grocery store, the library, the gym she works at, and to her house. I rub my hand through my scruff as I think about standing outside her house last week watching her through the window. She had no clue I was there, and I could have stood there all night, but I didn’t want to freak her or her neighbors out. I felt like a damn peeping Tom.

“Can I get you anything else, Elias?”

My eyes jerk to the waitress standing beside me. I scowl at her but only because she’s blocking the view I had of Chloe. Instead of answering her, I ask, “How do you know my name?”

She smiles. “Small town.”

“No. I don’t need anything else.” I grunt, and when her eyebrows lift and she looks as if I’ve scared her or something, I soften it with “Thank you. Can I get the check please?”

She nods and pulls her notebook out of her apron. “Sure thing, honey.” She slides it across the table until it meets my hand. I pick it up, avoiding her touch and try to dismiss her, but she stays rooted to her spot.

“Uh,” she starts before clearing her throat. “Uh, I just wanted to let you know that I put my number on there. You know… in case you ever wanted to call me.”

I stare at the piece of paper in front of me. It says black coffee and the total with a big heart drawn with red marker. She wrote the name Katie with another fuckin’ heart over the i and then a phone number. I’m not going to call her, but I also don’t want to hurt her feelings. “I have a girlfriend,” I blurt out.

“A girlfriend?” She tilts her head. “Well, I hadn’t heard that in all the gossip. Who is it?”

I grit my teeth together. Fuck, I didn’t think that through at all. I was just trying to get rid of her, and now it’s going to be all over town that I have a girlfriend. What will Chloe think if it gets back to her? Will she even care?Or will she be relieved that I’m out of her hair? I pull a ten out of my wallet and push it with the check and her number on it back toward her. “Thanks. Keep the change,” I tell her, ignoring her question altogether.

I scowl at her, and it’s not on purpose, but all I can think about is getting back to what I was doing, and that’s watching Chloe.

As soon as Katie walks away, I look at Chloe again and let out a breath of relief when I find her sitting in the exact same spot. She and the man she’s sitting with are talking again, and I wish for the hundredth time I could hear what they’re saying.

I watch her closely… the way she tilts her head when he’s talking to her. Does she blush when he talks to her or does she lean toward him or away? I don’t know if I’m making shit up or not, but I want to think she’s not interested. Even though it was years ago, I remember how she was with me like it was yesterday. I can still feel her put her hand on my shoulder when she would talk to me. Or the way she reached for me. Her cheeks always turned pink when she would catch me watching her, and her eyes would stare back at me as if she didn’t want to miss a word I said. Does she feel the same for this guy?

Her cheeks are pink, but I don’t want to believe it’s because of her date. She smiles at him, but it doesn’t light up her face, and she hasn’t reached for him one time.

Fuck, if I could go back in time, I never should have left her. I should have refused the mission, but even knowing what I know now, I knew I had to go. There were so many lives saved on that mission.

We were together one night, but I fell in love that night. I like to think she felt the same. I promised her that after the mission I had to go on was over, I would come back. It took me five years to get here, but I’m not the same man I was. Hell, I don’t think I’m half the man I was.

I clench my hands together in my lap and watch Chloe with her date. She keeps looking over at me, but I don’t look away. I can’t.

I wish I could talk to her and explain that I had to leave and that I didn’t know I would almost die a few days later. Multiple gunshot wounds, a concussion, and I lost so much blood that no one thought I would pull through. I eventually did, and it was after a long hospital stay and rehab before I was even able to stand on my own two feet again.

I couldn’t do missions like I used to, and I fell apart, trying to figure out what I was going to do to survive. I couldn’t go back to Chloe then. Hell, she deserved more than I was able to give.

I threw myself into my work, and luckily, Walker just moved me to another position where I spent ninety percent of my time behind a computer. It was good… until it wasn’t.

Two years ago, I was on a mission that killed one of my best friends and injured my entire unit. Davis hurt his leg, Jason is blind, Kanan hurt his arm, Randall lost his life, and I’m covered in scars. It could have been worse, I know that, but now I’m a man with no hope for love in the future. There’s no way I’d subject Chloe to a man like me.

I force myself to relax when the people in the booth next to me are glancing at me nervously. I shake my head, trying to get the pitying thoughts out of it, and just when I think I’m going to walk out of here, Chloe’s date makes his move.

He reaches for her hand, and I want to pulverize him. I could do it. He looks like a man that has never gotten his hands dirty, and I know I could take him. I could press a finger to one pressure point in his neck and end him. It would be over in a second. It scares me how badly I want that right now.

What’s worse is that Chloe doesn’t pull away. She sits there and lets the man in the khaki pants, button-down shirt, and loafers hold her hand.

I shouldn’t have come to Whiskey Run. I should have stayed far away. I thought war was hard. It’s nothing compared to seeing Chloe with another man.