Not A Hero: A Bad Boy Marine Romance Page 9

  They tipped their glasses together, creating a small clinking sound.

  “I’m sorry.” Zoe finally said, trying to let go of their weird back and forth from moments ago. “I’m being weird. I clearly don’t get out enough.”

  Miles chuckled and shook his head. “I think between the four of us at that table, you were the least weird one.”

  “They really are a strange couple. A little scary, almost.”

  “Tobin’s always had a thing for dramatic women,” Miles agreed. “Hot and heavy for a few weeks, followed by some big explosion, and then they never talk again.”

  “Let’s hope we’re not around for that part.” Zoe laughed. “Although, I’m not really loving being around the hot and heavy part either.”

  “That’s for damn sure,” Miles agreed. “He’s a good guy though. We were in the Marines together. Been through hell and back, and he’s always been loyal to a fault.”

  “He seems it.” Zoe took another sip of her wine, then several gulps. Her nervousness had only increased throughout the evening. “Tell me about being a Marine—how’s it feel to be a hero?”

  “I’m not a hero.”

  “Sure you are,” Zoe said. “The whole town talks about you guys—local heroes returning from war.” She waved her hands with emphasis, repeating the headline in the town’s newspaper their first week home.

  Miles lifted his eyes to hers, and he looked…angry? Zoe didn’t understand what she’d said to upset him, but the way he set his jaw, his nostrils ever so slightly flared—he was angry at her.

  “Seriously, Zoe,” he said through clenched teeth. “Don’t call me that again.”

  She ducked her head slightly. “Okay, okay. Grouchy, much?”

  The anger drained from his expression, replaced with a small, shy smile. “Sorry.”

  She was the one to shrug this time. “Maybe I’ll forgive you, maybe I won’t. You have to at least tell me a little about being a Marine. Was it exciting?”

  He chuckled and took a big sip from his wine. “You could say that.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sure there’s a lot more to it,” Zoe quickly added.

  He shrugged. “There is, but yeah, it’s definitely an adrenaline rush. We traveled quite a bit, but never did any touristy stuff. I was either on a military base, or in combat zones trying to restore order or get civilians out of there.”

  Zoe frowned at the cloudy look spreading over Miles’s face. His gaze was distant, his jaw tight, and it made her uneasy and sad, but she didn’t know why.

  “You don’t see people at their best,” he continued, his words slower now. “You see people on the worst day of their lives, sometimes the last. And you try to offer them a different choice, a better choice.” He sighed and took another drink. “They rarely take it, so sometimes you have to make the choice for them.”

  Zoe swallowed hard, a pain in her chest at the very idea. “Did you have to, you know, shoot people?”

  Miles’s gaze swung over to her, as if seeing her for the first time tonight. He licked his lips, as if considering her question. “I had to make choices.”

  She felt a pressure on her chest, an ache that seemed to deepen every time she looked into his eyes. They were wounded, something deep and hidden behind his gaze that made her hurt for him. She wanted to wrap him in a hug and take it all away, because if he even felt a fraction of the pain she was feeling right now for him…she couldn’t imagine. “I’m sorry, Miles.”

  He nodded, taking another swig from his glass—bigger this time. “Me, too.”

  “Is it related to what happened the other day in the kitchen?” The gateways were open and she’d been dying to ask for days, but no one would talk about it. Even Walter had refused to explain when she’d inquired later.

  Miles dropped a hand to her knee, squeezing gently. She was wearing jeans, but she still felt the searing heat of his palm. It was the most intimate contact they’d had, and she was a little surprised he’d made the first move after all his talk about keeping things friendly between them. “Sort of. I have moments where I forget where I am. When I’m back there.”

  “Back where?” She finished her glass and Miles signaled to the bartender for two new glasses.

  “Afghanistan,” he replied, his fingers caressing the inside of her knee now. “I did a few tours in the Middle East, but that’s where I saw the most active combat.”

  “Have you tried to talk to anyone? Like a counselor?”

  Miles shook his head. “Nah, I’ll be okay. I can handle it.”

  “Maybe, but what you are describing sounds really traumatic, and sometimes a little extra help can go a long way. I saw a counselor for six months after Rusty.”

  Miles’s brows lifted. “You did?”

  Zoe nodded, and took a sip of the fresh glass the bartender had just dropped off for her. “I did. I needed to talk to someone, to get my head on straight because I was so confused. And I was jumpy—so jumpy—at any loud noise or sudden movement, and then I’d apologize to whatever startled me, like it was my fault for being scared. It took me a little time to see I’m not in danger anymore now that Rusty is gone, and that I have nothing to apologize for because my fear was valid.”

  Miles frowned, and it was a deep frown, as if she could see his dislike ran deep into his soul and not just as a simple conversational expression. “I hate that you’ve ever had to be afraid, Zoe.”

  She reached forward and patted the top of his hand gently. “Thank you.”

  “It’s ironic, you know?” Miles continued, not meeting her eyes. “I go to war to defend our country, and sometimes the real terrorists are already living here among us.”

  “We all have our demons to fight, Miles,” she said. “That’s why I think seeing someone might help you. It helped me to get through everything, and to be able to move on and leave that situation. Marriage is a huge thing to walk away from.”

  Miles studied her for a moment. “Do you ever regret it?”

  “Definitely not,” Zoe stated firmly. “He wasn’t the man I thought he was. He was violent and angry, and I’ll never be with a man like him again.”

  Miles hand tightened on her knee, a small squeeze of affection that made her heart dance. “You know I would never, never treat you like he did…right?”

  She nibbled on the edge of her bottom lip for a moment. She wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to say something like this, when he’d made it clear they wouldn’t be dating—ever. “Miles…”

  “No, Zoe, I’m serious.” His eyes found her, pleading and desperate. “I’m so angry at him for you—at anyone who has ever hurt you. And I don’t know why…I don’t know why it’s so important to me you know this, because this isn’t a date and it shouldn’t be a date, because you shouldn’t date me, and I’m more confused than you probably are right now.” He paused for a moment, frustration in the way his jaw was set or how his eyes frowned. “I just need you to know. I need you to know I’d never hurt you.”

  She reached one hand forward, cupping his cheek gently before trailing her fingers down to his chin and letting go. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her mind going a million miles an hour. She’d only known this man a few weeks, but the way he made her feel was different than she’d ever felt before.

  Something about him set her entire body on fire. He made her heart swell and thump against her rib cage, threatening to break through. Just the way he looked at her, piercing dark blue eyes that seemed to see so much more than she meant to show, it was more intense than she’d ever imagined possible.

  It was like someone finally saw her, understood her…wanted her.

  Except he’d been right from the start. She shouldn’t want him, because if she did, she’d want everything—his whole heart, mind, soul. And he wasn’t ready for that. He didn’t have control of his own self to be able to give those things to her. She’d seen him on the other morning in the kitchen—his eyes vacant, his movements deadly, a knife on the floor. It had been
terrifying, and she’d already been through terrifying once.

  Miles leaned in closer, both of his hands on her thighs now. He looked down at her lips, then back to her eyes.

  “I’d never hurt you,” he repeated.

  “I know you wouldn’t mean to,” she whispered, the words tumbling out of her before she could soften them.

  Miles looked startled, and he leaned back on his stool. “You think I’d accidentally hurt you?”

  “I’m not sure,” she replied, not wanting to hurt his feelings. She wasn’t one to lie or tell people what they wanted to hear, so she didn’t plan on lying to him now either. “I think you’ve got a lot going on right now, and that can be really tough on a relationship. And that’s who I am—a relationship girl.”

  Miles looked away from her, but she didn’t miss the wounded look on his face. Confusion settled in her stomach, because after all his insistence they not be involved together, it shouldn’t matter that she was essentially turning him down—even though he wasn’t actually asking. She’d already ruled out a possibility of anything with him for a plethora of reasons that were suddenly becoming very hard to remember.

  Fidgeting with the stem of her glass, she cleared her throat, waiting for him to respond. Waiting for him to make any sense out of whatever was, or wasn’t, happening between them.

  “We should probably head back to the table,” he finally said.

  It was Zoe’s turn to look startled at the sudden change in tone, but she quickly recovered and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s been a little while.”

  “Done with your wine?” he asked, an unreadable expression on his face now as he finished the last of his glass.

  Zoe drank the last few sips in hers, then stood from her stool, grabbing her phone and following him back to the dining room. The knot in her stomach felt heavier and heavier with each step, knowing the pained look on his face was completely her fault.

  And yet, she still wasn’t sure why.

  13

  She thinks I’ll hurt her.

  Not only on an emotional level, like most people fear when starting a new courtship, their heart on the line. No, she was afraid he’d cause her physical harm.

  Miles’s teeth clenched at the thought. He’d never laid a hand on a woman, and he didn’t plan to start now. His protector instinct was strong—hell, he’d been trained to die to protect innocents. Zoe was innocent, of that much he was certain.

  He wasn’t sure why he connected with her so quickly, but something about her resonated in the deepest parts of his soul, like she belonged there. Like he hadn’t been truly home until she’d been in his home. When he was with her, his mind quieted. The flashbacks, the memories…gone. They didn’t enter his mind, only she did.

  It was intoxicating, and he wanted more.

  But he also knew he shouldn’t have it. He’d told Zoe from day one anything between them would be a bad idea, and apparently, she agreed. That part had surprised him a bit because rejection hurt, but he also found himself wondering if it wasn’t for the best…if she wasn’t right.

  He’d put the brakes on things between them for a reason. He was starting his life, focusing on his dad, and barely dealing with his own demons. Adding a relationship to the mix didn’t seem like the best idea, and he’d certainly never use Zoe as a friends-with-benefit type situation.

  The bottom line was she deserved more than he could give her.

  Case closed.

  Why am I even thinking about this right now? Miles wondered, knowing he had a lot more to be worrying about right now than being rejected by a woman he didn’t even want to date.

  Pushing open his car door, Miles stepped out onto the hot pavement and adjusted his suit and tie. After his brief stint in construction, he’d quickly realized it wasn’t for him. There’d also been the whole you’re fired thing after he’d gotten in a fight with the foreman, but hey, shit happens.

  In truth, though, being fired was a good thing and had made him reevaluate who he was, and who he wanted to be.

  He loved being a Marine, and it had defined him for years. He needed to be home with his father for now, but that didn’t mean he had to stop doing what he loved—protecting and serving.

  It had been a bit of a drive to get to Pittsburgh, where the private security firm he was interviewing with was located, but his contact from the service who’d set the meeting had assured him the commute was worth it.

  The outside of the building was nondescript and boring, like every other building on this street, which immediately gave Miles a good feeling. After double-checking the notepaper he’d written the interview time and location on, Miles tucked it back into his pocket and headed inside.

  The moment he stepped out of the elevator and onto the top floor, the muted look of the building disappeared. The office was all glass and steel, sleek lines and cold metals, obscure hallways and doors, and absolutely zero signage. An older gentleman quickly appeared from one of the doorways, as if knowing Miles had just walked in.

  “Miles Kydd?”

  Miles reached a hand out to the man. “That’s me.”

  “Good to meet you,” he said, shaking Miles’s hand. “I’m Agent Amaya. Follow me on back and we’ll get started.”

  He led him to a small conference room with one long dark wood table, and an entire wall of windows overlooking the heart of Pittsburgh. Four men in dark suits that looked tailor made for each of them all stood from the table and greeted him as he entered. Agent Banks, Agent Cade, Agent Drew, and Agent East—he was immediately sure these were all fake names, but he understood the need for privacy.

  “Please, take a seat,” Agent Banks motioned to the chair at one end.

  “Let’s get right to the point,” Agent Amaya started as soon as Miles had sat down, his hands folded in front of him on the table. “You’ve got a great resume. Eight years in the service, especially as a Marine, makes for a great addition to our team here.”

  “Thank you,” Miles said, a hopeful feeling swelling in his gut. “I’m honored.”

  “Despite all your medals and awards and honorable discharge, there is still a problem,” Agent Cade began, seemingly taking turns with the other agents addressing him. “Your record isn’t impeccable.”

  Miles knew better than to respond to that, choosing to stare at the speaker instead. The good feeling in his gut was immediately replaced with dread and shame as his mind flashed back to the incident he knew these men were referring to.

  Agent Amaya cleared his throat. “We’re a cut-to-the-chase kind of company, Miles. And the truth is, you’re definitely qualified for a security position here. In fact, we’d like to put you on the management track with a five-year goal.”

  “That would be amazing,” Miles replied. “Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?”

  “But,” Agent Cade said with emphasis, acknowledging his prediction. “We’ve done a full work-up of your history, including reports from your time in the service. You were involved in a pretty serious investigation—accused of shooting and killing a child.”

  Because I did kill a child.

  Agent East cleared his throat, breaking the silence over the room. “We would like to hear the account from you, Miles.”

  Miles filled his lungs with air before swallowing hard. “My unit had gotten word to clear a dwelling where a known insurgent was reportedly hiding. We were ambushed on the way in, and a fellow Marine was momentarily captured. He was my friend—one of my best friends from childhood, actually. Still is.”

  Tobin’s goofy smile filled Miles’s mind, and he knew he’d do it again. He’d do anything for a fellow Marine, especially Tobin.

  “Three insurgents, hooded and covered in thick robes, had confiscated his weapon. I was around the corner when I saw them kick him to his knees, put his own gun to his head. I pulled my trigger three times, instantly killing each of them.”

  “What about the child?” Agent Drew, the man closest to him, asked.

  A chi
ll dragged across Miles’s skin, his muscles tightening at the reminder. He could see everything, feel everything, hear everything as he described it to them.

  He couldn’t forget what he’d done. He never would.

  “He was standing behind one of the insurgents. From the angle I was at, I didn’t see him. The bullet pierced right through the man in front of him, and into him.” Miles’s voice caught, but he quickly cleared his throat. “We tried to rush him to the closest medic unit, but he was dead on arrival.”

  The room was silent for a moment, until Agent Amaya flipped open a folder and scanned through a few papers. “Reports do indicate only three bullets fired.”

  Agent East crossed his arms over his chest. “Those are impressive shots, despite the unfortunate aftermath.”

  Miles swallowed, nodding slowly. He didn’t want to be congratulated for killing three men and an innocent young child. He had been the best marksman in his unit, but that was still the worst day of his life.

  “Thank you for telling us,” Agent Drew added. “You have to understand in this business, we can’t have any skeletons in our closest. Blackmail is an easy security breach and in order to be impenetrable, we must be transparent.”

  “I understand,” Miles replied.

  “Do you think you’ve dealt with those demons?” Agent Cade asked, his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s a tough thing to go through—having Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from it wouldn’t be shocking.”

  “I don’t have PTSD,” Miles said quickly, maybe a little too quickly. The man’s word choice reminded him of his conversation a few nights ago with Zoe, but he pushed it aside. “I had to go to a few required head shrinking sessions after that, and I was released with a clean bill of health.”

  It hadn’t been too hard, since he’d been mostly able to keep the memories at bay until he’d been heading home. Something about returning to his old life, about acting as though nothing had ever happened…it had made everything fresh.

  He didn’t need anyone head shrinking him to tell him he was hurting. He knew that better than anyone, but he also knew he was strong enough to handle things on his own—he just needed time. Yeah, time…that was the healer of everything.